Never Let You Go (a modern fairytale) (34 page)

“That’s right,” said Mrs. McClellan, picking up a cup with a straw. “Water? You want some?”

“Yes, please.”

Mrs. McClellan helped her sit up, plumping several pillows behind her back. As Griselda sipped the water, she had a sudden, blinding flashback.
You like that, you fucking slut?

“No!” she yelped, some of the water dribbling down her chin.

“Zelda?”

“He slammed . . . he slammed my face . . . into the . . .” It hurt so much to breathe, she needed air, but she couldn’t seem to take a deep breath.

“Yes,” said Mrs. McClellan, taking the cup away. She wiped Griselda’s mouth and took her hand. “He hurt you. But he’s in jail. They’re going to put him away for a long time, Zelda. A long, long time. Roy’ll see to it. Jonah will
not
bother you again, you hear me?”

“I . . . I . . . Okay,” she panted, letting her shoulder relax.

She didn’t want to think about Jonah. She never wanted to think about Jonah again. She stared at Mrs. McClellan, but she wanted Holden. She needed Holden. He loved her. He’d take care of—

I’ll go!

Suddenly she heard her voice yell the words in her head.

Holden’s devastated face.

Her tears.

“Me leaving is the right choice,” she said, some of her memories returning, others still foggy.

“What’s that, honey?” Mrs. McClellan asked, squeezing Griselda’s hand.

“I came home,” she said, looking up at her boss, breathless and frightened. “What happened?”

“Maya drove you home. Jonah broke into your apartment and attacked you. Your neighbors heard the noise and called the police. By the time they got there, he had broken your ribs, and you’d passed out from several blows to the head.”

“Did he . . .?”

“What?” asked Mrs. McClellan, searching Griselda’s face. “Did he what?”

Griselda looked down at her thighs, then back up.

“No!” Mrs. McClellan shook her head emphatically. “No, Zelda. No, honey. He didn’t do that. He didn’t . . . rape you. The police got there in time. I promise.”

“Okay,” she murmured, in shock, tears coursing down her face. She wished she could breathe deeper but settled for shallow pants as she wept, repeating, “Okay, okay. I’m okay. Okay.”

Mrs. McClellan held her hand, patting it gently as the door to her room opened. Holden moved quickly to her bedside, his gray eyes focused on hers, and Mrs. McClellan stood up to give him room. She slipped out of the room as Holden sat down on the bed beside Griselda. He placed his hands on her shoulders and pulled her gently into his arms.

Her tears streamed endlessly down her face. She’d left Holden and come home. Jonah had broken into her apartment and beaten her. God only knew how long she’d been in the hospital. And Holden . . . Oh, Holden . . .

“You’re not . . . supposed . . . to be . . . here,” she managed through sobs, clutching him to her, her fingers curled into the fabric of his T-shirt.

“Angel, I
need
to be here.”

“But your baby!”

He’d checked his phone in the elevator and found a message from Clinton:
She’s buying it for now, but she’s pissed you ran out. Won’t let her do anything stupid. You gotta understand. She was really mad at you. I don’t actually think she would’ve gone through with it.

Holden’s eyes had narrowed, rage bubbling up as he considered this. By threatening him, Gemma had driven Gris out of his life, into harm’s way, into danger. Damn her, but if it was all a ruse for his attention? He’d never forgive Gemma for it. Never.

“It’s fine. Clinton’s covering for me.”

“Oh. Okay. Okay,” she said, burying her nose in Holden’s neck, wetting his skin with her tears. “Thank . . . thank you for coming.”

“Gris, I love you. Hellfire couldn’t have k-kept me away.”

She sobbed again, then laughed softly, thinking his words came perilously close to Caleb Foster’s rants. “Or my wickedness?”

“Or your idle hands.”

“Or my heathen ways.”

“Or your evil spring tits.” He leaned back, and his eyes were glassy, but he managed a small grin. “I fucking love your tits.”

She laughed, then sobbed again, unable to stop the next deluge of tears from falling.

And though she knew it couldn’t last forever, she savored every moment that he stayed and held her.

And stayed.

And held her.

Griselda was moved to a room on the fourth floor first thing in the morning, and while she still had an IV port in her hand, she was finally allowed to eat solid food for the first time in days. Maya stopped by before work and, opening the licorice Sabrina had thoughtfully left for her, smiled at Griselda from the foot of her bed.

Maya gave Holden her apartment keys and address, and urged him to get away for a little while and go take a shower. He stared at Griselda with hesitation, but she encouraged him to go. After he promised to return in an hour and spend the rest of the day with her, she’d watched him leave, knowing she’d never get used to it. It would never get any easier to watch him walk away.

Maya’s eyes tracked his departure before shuttling back to Griselda’s face, and then she sat down in Holden’s vacated seat.

“Zelda, that man is done and gone for you.”

“And I’m done and gone for him,” sighed Griselda as she finished off the last of her eggs.

“Any chance you can get him to stick around?”

Undoubtedly she could. She saw his eyes. She knew his heart. If she asked, she had no doubt he would stay. But the life of his unborn child still hung in the balance, so she couldn’t. As much as she wanted him, as much as she needed him, she wouldn’t ask him to make that choice or sacrifice for her.

“No,” she said. “He has somewhere he needs to be more than here.”

“He’s a good man, Z.”

“The best.”

“I don’t know how you can stand it. To let him go.”

“You’re gonna make me cry, Maya. Talk about something else.”
Something that I can actually have. Something that won’t be walking out of my life again in a matter of hours and taking my heart far away.

“Okay.” Maya took her hand and squeezed it. “As it turns out, I do have something to discuss with you.”

“Something good, I hope.”

“Mm-hm. It is.” Maya cocked her head to the side. “You know Sabrina McClellan’s been here every day, right?”

“She was here last night. I have to admit, I’m surprised. I’ve always—I don’t know, thought of myself as the help, not a personal friend or anything. Honestly, I feel funny every time you and Holden call her Sabrina. I’ve been so careful to, you know, be appropriate, be a good employee.”

“Well, I think she’s amazing, Z. She cares for you a lot. She has your best interests at heart.”

“I believe that.”

“She asked me to run something by you.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Thought you might be more open to the idea coming from me.”

“What idea?”

“Did you know they have an apartment in their house? The McClellans?”

“You mean the mother-in-law’s garden apartment? On the lower level of the townhouse?”

Maya nodded. “That sounds right.”

“I’ve only been down there once or twice, when Prudence wanted to go visit Granny’s room. What about it?”

“Well, it seems that the elder Mrs. McClellan has no immediate plans to move in or visit.” She squeezed Griselda’s hand again. “They want you to consider using it.”

“For what?”

“For living, girl.”

“You mean, move in? With the McClellans?”

Maya shrugged. “Why not?”

“Well, for one, I
have
an apartment.” Griselda chuckled softly in disbelief. “And two, I work for them, Maya. I keep my personal life separate from my professional life. We’re not . . . friends.”

“First of all, you’re not going back to that place—your apartment—after what happened there. Second of all, plenty of nannies live with their families. And third of all, would an employer come to the hospital and sit by your bedside for four straight days? You ask me, that’s the action of a friend. A good one.”

Griselda considered this. She knew Sabrina McClellan’s friends. They were other society women with perfect hair and designer clothing. They drank wine together and talked politics. She and Mrs. McClellan never socialized like that.

And yet they chatted now and then. Sabrina had always taken an interest in Griselda, trying to get her to talk about her experiences in the foster care system and encouraging her to go to college. She raved about the way Griselda tended to Prudence and told her how much storytelling talent she had.

Hmm. Had Griselda misinterpreted the signs? Had Sabrina McClellan been reaching out to Griselda not just as an employer—but in friendship as well?

“You’re quiet,” said Maya. “Does that mean you’re thinking about it?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know if I’d be comfortable living there. I don’t know why she’d suggest it.”

“Because she likes you. Because she wants to help you,” said Maya. She took a deep breath and tsked, sitting back with her arms crossed over her bosom. “Damn, Z. You got people who
want
to help you. You can live there—in a gorgeous apartment—rent free and go to college. You can
get
somewhere in the world. You can
be
something. It’s being offered to you on a silver freaking platter. You’re so damn suspicious! Why can’t you just say yes?”

Griselda stared at Maya, surprised she was getting so upset.

“I’m suspicious because life doesn’t just hand you great opportunities on silver platters, Maya. You know that; I know that. Those kinds of things don’t happen to people like us.”

Maya’s eyes flashed, and she looked genuinely angry as she stood up and put her hands on her hips.

“Bullshit. A good thing like that
is
happening to you, and you’re too bullheaded to see it, or too scared to just let it happen.” She looked down for a moment, as though figuring out what to say, then caught Griselda’s eyes, holding on tightly and speaking earnestly. “I’ve been your friend for almost ten years, Z. Ten years, and I didn’t know your real name until five days ago. You never told me about Holden and everything you two went through. You never told me you were looking for him. Listen, I get it—junkie mom, in the system early, kidnapped. You had some bad times. Real bad. Worse’n most. Believe me, I know. I understand. But you’re all closed up. And you’re stubborn. And suspicious. And you’re not doing yourself any favors, girl.”

“Maya—”

“I ain’t finished,” said Maya, brown eyes wide with sass and attitude. “Quit pushing away the people who want to help you, who care about you. I’m here for you. Sabrina’s here for you. So I’ma tell you what you’re going to do: You’re gonna move into that apartment and care for little Miss Pru every day this summer because you love that child and she’ll help with the sadness when Holden goes home. And at night you’re gonna read through those college brochures Sabrina got you, and use that money you saved to get yourself enrolled. And then when September rolls around and Pru’s in kindergarten every day? You’re going back to school too. Yes, ma’am. Don’t shake your head at me, because that’s what you’re going to do. You are strong and you are smart, Zelda, but you gotta start letting people in. You gotta trust that they’re not all gonna let you down.
I’m
not gonna let you down.
Sabrina
’s not gonna let you down. Just say yes.”

Looking up at the friend who’d stood by her despite her secrets, despite her suspicious, stubborn nature, despite her fears, Griselda felt tears flood her eyes and a grin overtake her face. Maybe Maya was right. She could say yes. She could jump at the chance she was being given and hold on tight in the hope that there was something better out there than the life she’d been living.

Maybe it was possible. Maybe, just maybe, she could find the strength and courage to move forward instead of standing still, frozen in time on the banks of the Shenandoah, where her life ended ten years ago.

Her grin faltered, but her tears doubled.

Holden.

What good was any of this without him?

Maya sat back down on the side of the bed, tilting Griselda’s face back up with a gentle finger under her chin.

“And I promise you, girl,” she said, “you’ll figure
that
out eventually too.”

“How?” sobbed Griselda.

“Because you and him were meant to be together,” said Maya, with a tender, confident smile. “Just not quite yet.”

***

As Holden pulled his jeans back on after a shower at Maya’s apartment, the card from Lieutenant Jones fell from his back pocket. He picked it up off the floor and sat down on the toilet to look at it.

He’d climbed into bed with Gris last night, sitting against the headboard as she slept with her head against his heart and her body curled around his legs. And while she slept, Holden had taken out his phone and spent some time online looking into the Marine Corps.

Words like
pride
,
leadership
, and
vision
had jumped out at him from the official website, making him feel the sort of hopefulness that his life had only found before with Griselda. He looked at the different units, concentrated in California, North Carolina, and Hawaii, that appeared to be organized by function, which led him to seek out training options. He felt a pull toward the combat-ready units, like artillery and infantry, since they’d been mentioned specifically to him by Lieutenant Jones.

At one point, he stumbled onto a Marine chat room, and he had to keep his laughter soft as he read a thread wherein a new recruit asked about Marine training that wouldn’t lead to deployment. The Marines responding had been pretty frank, advising the recruit that if he didn’t want to fight, he wasn’t Marine material. And Holden felt pride rise up in him as he considered that he’d
want
to fight for his country, for Gris and his baby, for a better life. In fact, it would be a goddamned honor.

I
am
Marine material
, said the voice in his head, brimming with hope and pride.

Taking his cell phone off Maya’s sink, he dialed the number on Lieutenant Jones’s business card.

“U.S. Marine recruitment office. Jones speaking.”

“Sir, it’s Holden Croft. We met—”

“How’s your woman, Croft?”

“Better side of okay, sir.”

“Well, oo-rah! What’s on your mind?”

“I don’t want to wait. I did a lot of reading last night, sir, and I want to be one of the few and the proud. I’d like to come see you tomorrow morning before I head back to West Virginia.”

“You sure about this, son?”

“Sure as I can be, sir.”

“Oh-nine-hundred tomorrow, Croft. Recruiting Station Baltimore. We’ll see what we can do to make a Marine out of a fistfighter.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“See you tomorrow, Croft.”

Holden hung up, slipped the phone into his pocket, and looked at himself in the mirror. For the first time in his life, he didn’t see a foster child or an abducted kid or a fucked-up teenager or a pissed-off man. He still saw a fighter, yes, but he saw the potential to be a
good
fighter, an organized fighter, a useful means to a necessary end. Someone who could use his deep well of rage to procure something positive for the world. Holden knew firsthand about fear, pain, and injustice, but he also knew how to stand his ground and push back. And he was going to take those natural skills, those visceral inclinations, and he was going to make something of himself. Someone he could be proud of. Someone Griselda could be proud of. He couldn’t wait to tell her.

***

Maya had left for work a little while ago, leaving Griselda to consider the McClellans’ offer in peace, without hands-on-hips attitude.

At her core, Griselda was not a very trusting person. She trusted Maya—and Holden—as much as it was possible for her to trust other people, but that was a short list, and one of those people wouldn’t be a fixture in her life for the foreseeable future. As Maya had pointed out, Griselda had been cagey even with her best friend about her past, and, if Griselda were honest, her future with Holden. She’d kept herself in a sort of emotional solitary confinement that made it difficult to move forward with her life.

But maybe Maya was right: maybe it was time for Griselda to stop seeing herself as an abandoned child, guilty teenager, or worthless adult. Holden had forgiven her, even telling her that her actions had inadvertently saved his life. Maybe it was time for her to start seeing herself as Holden and Maya saw her—smart and strong.
Smart and strong
. The words felt so good, so right in her head, they almost made her cry, because if she had the will to aspire to any two qualities in her life, it would be those.

If she accepted the McClellans’ offer and lived rent free in their apartment for a while, she could still repay them by making herself useful: preparing Pru’s lunch every morning and babysitting for free on weekend evenings. She could offer to answer the phones at Nannies on Ninth when she wasn’t at class or studying, or mentor new girls looking for a job in child care. And by keeping busy, she wouldn’t have as much time to miss Holden.

She winced, and her heart dipped because, while she was planning an exciting and hopeful new life with a gorgeous, rent-free apartment and college, Holden was heading back to West Virginia to work at a glass factory he hated and care for the mother of his child, whom he didn’t love. Didn’t love . . .
now
, which led her to a terrible thought: What if just being together every day brought them closer? What if he and Gemma looked at that little baby they’d made together and fell in love again? What if Holden decided that he wanted to be a family with Gemma and the baby, and that there wasn’t space for Griselda in his life after all? What if he never came looking for her?