Fostering Love (The Soul Sisters Series Book 1) (18 page)

Sheriff Roberts and Neely told me on the quiet that I should dismiss this and that he had to be seen to act fairly even if he was pissed that he had just wasted time writing up someone for a supermarket bitch slapping, but I still couldn’t get past the fact that I was a criminal.  It upset me and that made Neely livid, I think we were both still shocked that she’d done this. 

I was officially a criminal.  Me. 

Once again I found myself asking how I got here.  Looking for the silver lining, I was thankful that I had a packed bag at home, I was really going to get out of here for a bit now.  I could also extend my trip, I had a bit of time until I needed to come back and cover the Mayor’s Day Festival and finish the tourist brochure for the deadline.

I also just happen to walk out of the interview room just in time to hear Tits shout “What do you mean that’s it? She attacked a pregnant woman.”

“Miss Brunel, as I’ve already explained, a witness confirmed your part in provoking Miss Frobisher and it’s her first offense. I suggest you let the matter rest,” warns the sheriff.

“Outrageous,” she hisses as she stomps her foot.

I’m still heading out the door when Jonas strolls up the front steps.  “Dalton, what are you doing here?”   

I’m not even going to answer him.

“Are you fucking kidding me, are you really fucking seriously asking that Jonas?  Maybe you should march in there and ask that pregnant fucking tramp of yours the same question.  Come on Dolly.”  Neely is mad and makes to lead me around him as Tits comes out of the station door behind us.  It’s then that he realizes what she’s done.

“Tell me you didn’t Letitia.  You’d better have not done what I think you’ve done.”  He’s looking at her and he’s starting to shake with rage.

“Jonas, I’m within my rights to press charges for assault, she could have harmed our baby.”

“For FUCK’S SAKE.  You had her arrested, what is the matter with you?”  He’s talking slowly and directly to her and even I can tell she will not waiver in her resolve. I wonder why I am the only one who is scared of his potential reaction when he gets like this.

“Jonas, I want things to go back to how they were, let’s just put this behind us.  I need this on record in case there are any problems with the health of the baby and you should be supporting me.”  Jonas leans into her, he’s towering over her when he speaks in a quiet and threatening manner “Let’s fuckin’ clear this up.  I don’t want you, you were a convenient fuck and you filled some gaps in a few lonely nights when I didn’t want the bother of cleaning up after a hand job.  I have no idea how I managed to knock you up but thank fuck this child will have one normal parent, me.  I dread to think what would happen if it was relying on you for the next eighteen years.  Keep this jealous shit up and I’ll be demanding that paternity test I hinted about in my office.  You better hope your dates add up when I see that ultrasound, which I’ve now decided I’m gonna be at.”  Her face is paling in color, she definitely wasn’t expecting that reaction from him. 

“I also don’t appreciate a random phone call from the sheriff’s office from you asking for a lift home; clearly this is a game to you, so I will remind you, games and manipulation, Letitia, are not on and that’s what this is to you, a game.  So let’s get another thing straight, keep trying to play me and I will bite back.  You have been warned.  For the last time, there is no us.  There’ll be you and our child and me and our child, there will be no us and our child.”

I can’t remember the last time I heard him say so many words, as much as I can’t believe I’ve been dragged into this shit and now have a criminal record because of it, I almost feel slightly sorry for her.  The way he is giving her this military debrief is harsh and publicly humiliating but then I remember who she is, what she’s capable of and what she has that I don’t and my sympathy dissipates.

I turn and walk towards Neely’s car to make it clear I am ready to leave.  I need out and it’s going to happen as soon I lay my hands on the packed bag at my apartment.  Neely comes into my apartment with me, but I make an excuse about having some work to do and needing to catch up and prepare for my Mig meeting.  I know she doesn’t believe me, but I also know she won’t push me unless it’s absolutely necessary. 

After she leaves I call the Griggs to let them know of my plans.

“Harrison, hi, I just wanted to call and let you know I’m going to be out of town for a bit.”

“A bit?  How long? Everything OK?”  Jesus, he’s just as suspicious as Barbara.

“Yep, a couple of meetings about a job with that mag in city and then I’m going to get in a bit of shopping.  Nothing too exciting.” 

“OK Dolly, but listen we’re here if you need anything,” he says and his hidden message is implied.

“OK thanks, the plants will be fine, so all good on the need anything front,” I reply.

“I didn’t mean your plants,” he continues to get his point across and I need to shut this down.

“I know, listen just tell Barbara not to panic if she can’t get hold of me for a few days, I’m going to be busy.”

“Sure, stay safe pretty girl,” he says softly.

“Bye Harrison.” I hang up the phone, grab the bag and my keys and head out.  I need distance before people find out about my felony and start to make house calls that will delay my escape.

I drive for a while and pull in at a hotel.  It looks clean, says it has a spa but all I really need is a bed and running water and it’s only going to be for one night.  Tomorrow I’ll be at the hotel where I made a reservation on Mig’s recommendation.  I’ve been hearing beeps and noises from my cell phone in my purse, so as soon as I’ve checked in I grab the phone, I know I won’t be able to settle until I’ve got rid of them.

Jonas:
Call me.

Neely:
Hey, you can be Thelma and I’ll be Louise.  Love you soul sister.

Chris:
Jesus Dolly, your life is like a soap opera at the moment. Here if you need me.  I can bake a pie with a iron file in it!

Tommy:
Hi beautiful, Hope you’re OK and missing m
y
, charm and wit.  Call me and let me know you’re OK.

Flo: Are you OK?

Lottie: Death to the skank incubator!

Mig:
Looking forward to our meeting.  Meet you at our offices at 1130
.

Great! An 1130am start gives me a lie in and time to primp and get there without being flustered.  Fortunately my alcohol medicated evening and random sleepover at Jonas’s has left me tired; add that to the drama of today and I feel wiped out.  I’m hoping this means sleep isn’t far away.

The next couple of days go great.  Mig and I agree which shots to use for the football article and the terms of use, payment, article credits and such like.  Overall I’m pleased and happy with our working arrangement and what we’ve agreed.  I can’t wait to see them in the final print version, that’s definitely something I will add to my portfolio and wrap up for Wally’s Christmas present!

We take some long lunches and have dinner where I find out more about him and the job he loves.  He really is a nice guy.  I’m constantly surrounded by them, but the timing as ever is shit.  He’s not pushing anything and although I’m focused on work, we agree that it would be nice to get to know one another as friend’s first.  I like the idea but then feel a bit stressed that this is someone else that I’m dangling tempting carrots for.

I also have a fabulous meeting with the Art Director, Pamela Cooke.  We review my portfolio of shots and as a way of sensing my creativity she gives me some articles as examples and asks me to describe what and how I’d support the article with photographic material.  I let my passion flow and at one point think I’m talking too much until I look at Mig, who is also in the meeting and he’s smiling.  Both are listening intently to my ideas.  When I finally stop speaking she’s thrilled with my vision and suggestions and is going to come up with a test job to see if I’m a good freelance fit for the magazine and vice versa.  Payment for this job will be dependent on the shots I get, once I’ve nailed that we’ll talk about contracts and being formally detailed as one of the associated freelance photographers.   It doesn’t mean I’ll work for them as an employee.  If they understand my style, they can be more specific with the jobs they ask me to do and because I will be on the books I won’t have to prove myself or my skills, I will be a trusted photographic source.  This route also gives me the opportunity and freedom to pursue my own projects and local work and during times when I’m quiet on the work front I can call up and volunteer for work assignments at the magazine.  Pamela advises that as this process progresses it is likely that they’ll match my photo eye to a writing style and I’ll be offered regular work supporting just a few article authors first rather than all of them. 

This is great news and I’m thankful to Mig for helping to make it possible but I want to keep things real until my head is in better shape.  He’s asked me out to dinner but I decline saying that I’m heading back home.  It’s a little white lie because I’m just going to get in my car and drive somewhere else, further away for a bit and stop when it feels right.

I’m getting repeated text messages which I’m still ignoring.  Jonas and the tone of his messages don’t change, he just expects me to obey his command and call him.  Neely’s messages go from loving then change to concerned and finally angry and threatening as the days go on.  Tommy hasn’t text again but that’s probably because I didn’t return his last message and Chris continues to try and engage me with the odd joke.  Either way it’s obvious that they’ve figured out I’ve upped and left with no word of where I am.  This behavior is a first for me; I’ve never been inclined to do something so selfish before and the one thing I am certain of is that when I do get back Neely will go mental.  It won’t be pretty and although I feel a little guilty about worrying her, I need this space more, so I keep driving.

After what must be hours in the car I hit a really small country place called Adams Grove.  I pull over to get some gas, drinks and snacks from the gas station and as I finish putting in the fuel I notice the forecourt of a beautiful looking motel across the road.  I’ve never really seen a motel I could describe as pretty before, they’re normally dingy little dives in need of a coat of paint and termite removal guy, but this one looks quaint.  It has the standard look and set up of rooms in an outbuilding fashion facing a parking lot, but each door is painted a brightly different color and next to the door is a matching hanging basket filled with the same color flowers.  Someone nurtures this place and has taken the time to make it look and feel special.  It’s making me want to capture the moment, so I grab my camera and take a few shots.  The colorful doors and the hanging baskets full of flowers make me smile.  I need to smile more so I’m going to check it out and I hope that the rooms are just as charming on the inside.

The owner who was at the reception desk is a lovely old lady who resembles a typical grandma.  She has grey hair woven in tight curls, glasses hanging on a string around her neck and she’s a slightly round shape that screams ‘Cuddle me’. She beams as I enter the reception and says “Welcome to our home, are you looking for a room?”

“Yes, but not at your home, one of the motel rooms will be perfect thanks,” I clarify.

“Oh dear, of course, the motel isn’t our home but we call it home because we want you to feel at home here, you can sleep anywhere if you’re tired enough, but you relax and rest in a home,” she explains.

“That’s nice, I like the sound of that, could I see a room please?”

“Certainly, we have Magenta, Sunshine Yellow, Egg Shell Blue, Spring Green or Lilac available, what sort of color are you feeling like?”

“Egg Shell Blue I think but I have no idea why,” I say confident in my choice.

“Fine choice, I’m Jessie, follow me please.”  The rooms are beautiful and look so inviting that they make me smile again, they’ve got the touch of someone who wants you to relax and enjoy your stay.

“How many nights, Miss...”

“Frobisher, but you can call me Dolly and can we start with a week please?”

“Of course here’s your key, I’ll just pop and get the registration forms.”  Jessie comes back and is armed with forms and an old fashioned credit card swipe machine and tourist leaflets.  I pay her the money and she tells me about the town food spots and places of local interest.

Over the next few days I gradually unwind and continue to ignore my phone.  The text messages have increased and now Barbara has joined in.  I consider returning Barbara’s because I don’t want her to worry, but then Harrison knew I was going off the grid for a bit so I put my phone back in my purse and ignore it again.

I spend my days lazing around and taking pictures on the small trips that I make, but I also enjoy just sitting around on a patio chair outside my door watching the world go by.  Jessie has become a friend and we share a coffee at some point during each day; it’s nice having someone to talk to who doesn’t judge.  She’s also told me that the answers to my problems will present themselves, either that or I will get sick of waiting for the great presentation and get off my butt and do something about it.   I really like that theory, it helps me close down my angry and disappointed mind and I feel more rested while I wait and test out her theory.

After a particularly lazy morning I head out for a wander and find myself in a book store, it’s not like I haven’t got time so I select a few books and one of their comfy armchairs and take up residence for a while.  After a few hours of mind indulgence I pay for my purchases and amble back to my room.  I walk through the door and sitting on my bed is Jonas.