Running From Mercy (9 page)

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Authors: Terra Little

BOOK: Running From Mercy
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Pam's mouth dropped open. “Oh, now see that was just wrong. If he was the police I'd be going to jail right about now, thank you very much. In my day kids knew how to keep a secret.”
“They sure did,” Chad seconded, catching Pam's eye. “What is the world coming to?”
Pam snatched her eyes from his and put them back on Nikki, where they were safe. “Well, since we're telling on each other. Nikki went over her limit on your charge card today, Chad.” The gasp Nikki uttered was comical and Pam smiled wickedly. “By a hundred dollars, too.”
Nikki dropped her head in her hand as if to say,
no she didn't just go there
. “Aunt Pam let me drive ninety miles an hour on the interstate.”
Pam nodded that everything was fine. She pushed her bowl away and downed the rest of her wine. “You got me there, Nikki. I'm so ashamed about that, it almost makes me forget I paid the three speeding tickets you already had and got them changed to non-moving violations, so your dad would never find out that you drive like a bat out of hell with or without me. God, I'm so absentminded.” She smacked her forehead dramatically.
This time Nikki's shocked gasp stole her breath and made her cough. Chad took it upon himself to pat her on her back none too gently. “Three tickets?” he asked softly. Too softly.
Pam recognized the look and the tone instantly. A little clean up was definitely in order. “Actually, Chad, it was more like one ticket. Something about parking too close to a fire hydrant, I think.”
“Thanks a lot, Aunt Pam. You probably just got me grounded.”
“No probably to it,” Chad told her. He glanced at the shopping bags stacked next to her chair. “Why don't you take your bags out to the car and wait for me? I'll be out in a minute. I want to yell at your aunt a little bit.”
Pam and Nikki got to their feet slowly, staring at each other across the table.
Are we in trouble
, Nikki's eyes asked?
Hell if I know
, Pam's responded. Pam shrugged and leaned in to kiss Nikki's lips. While she was close enough, she whispered to her that she'd work on Chad and for Nikki not to worry.
“I'll see you later,” she said, hefting her bag and squinting meaningfully at Nikki.
Chad watched Nikki until she was out of sight, then he turned on Pam. “You paid her tickets?” He was incredulous.
“Only one,” she lied smoothly. “And she only drove for a split second. You know she's exaggerating about the speed, right?” She waved a hand distractedly, on purpose. “And like, one sip of wine, just to take the edge off. I gave her Paris's diary and we were both worked up and . . .”
He cut in. “Pam?”
“What?”
“Are these your bags?” He pointed to the two bags she had as a result of her shopping excursion to Atlanta.
“Yeah, but you don't have to . . .”
“I'll carry them upstairs for you.” When she didn't move, Chad motioned for her to start walking. “Lead the way.”
Left with no choice, Pam led him up two flights of stairs to her room. Hers was the only room on the top floor, a converted attic that resembled an efficiency apartment. It was normally billed as the honeymoon suite and it had come equipped with its own bathroom, a sitting area with a modest entertainment center, and a table and chairs. The sturdy lock on the door was the main draw, though. She used her key to let them in and gestured for him to set the bags by the door.
“This is nice,” Chad said, looking around leisurely.
“It serves the purpose. You won't be too hard on Nikki, will you?”
“Oh yeah, I plan on beating her to within an inch of her life. She knows I could never stay mad at her for more than two minutes, and it's been longer than that now, so I would say she's safe.” He pushed his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels, considering her. “I wanted to thank you for helping me out the other day. I appreciate it.”
“I would've regretted it if I hadn't helped you. I needed to do it.” She dropped her bag on the table and stepped out of her shoes. Her height was significantly decreased and she tilted her head back to catch his eyes.
“I know. How are you doing otherwise?”
“Okay. You?”
“Okay. I better give you this before I forget. I've been carrying it in my pocket since I found it.” Chad pulled something from his pocket and held it out to her. She looked down at the earring blankly, unable to place it. “It must've fallen out of your ear when you ran from the house.” Ten silent seconds passed. “Not long after you came to my room.”
“Oh.” She reached out for the earring, fisted her hand around it in the palm of his hand and felt his fingers close around hers. The contact had her eyes sliding closed and her head shaking slowly.
Chad tugged once, then again on her hand and she came forward one, then two steps. He tugged again and dipped his head in search of her lips. His tongue shot out and licked her lips lightly, then he reached up and palmed the back of her head. She gasped and it was all the invitation he needed.
His tongue was inside Pam's mouth like the past eighteen years had never happened. He took her head back on her neck and pressed into her as far as his lips would allow, hungry for the feel and taste of her after going without them for so long. She kissed him back just as greedily and opened her mouth wider with each passing second.
“Stop, Chad,” she eventually whispered. She pressed cold fingers to his lips to stop their progress when they would've come at her again.
“I got you out of the habit of saying that a long time ago,” he murmured. His arms snaked around her waist and pulled her against him. He dropped soft kisses on her neck and teased the skin there with the tip of his tongue. “Ask me how long I've been sleeping in that room, Pam.”
“I don't want to know that.” Her own hands slid up his back and flattened against his shoulder blades. She rested her forehead on his chest and breathed deeply.
“Don't you want to know why?”
She shook her head and fit her body to his. A groan rumbled in Chad's throat as he scooped her up in his arms and squeezed her tightly. She squeezed him back just as tightly and made him curse viciously.
“This is why,” he whispered close to her face. “This is why, Pam. Damn, I missed you.”
EIGHT
Nikki took the diary with her to her room and closed the door. She hadn't known that her mom kept a diary and now, actually holding the heavy book in her hands, she felt like she had a piece of her mother that no one else had ever had. Her mom's private thoughts and feelings were inside, her secret hopes and dreams, and just thinking about it made Nikki want to cry.
She laid the book inside her nightstand drawer, where she kept her own diary, and flopped back on her bed. She could pretty much guess what was inside her mom's diary. Paris Greene was probably the most predictable person in the whole world. Growing up, Nikki found comfort in the routines her mother had kept to. Dinner at six-thirty, always, unless there was an emergency, which there never was, and laundry on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Meatloaf with red sauce on Thursdays and pot-roast on Sundays after church. She'd always known what to expect from her mom; what she could get away with and what she shouldn't even bother trying to get away with.
Nikki guessed that the book was filled with Paris's thoughts and feelings about her work and about their home life. There were probably a hundred pages about the stunts she'd pulled and the gray hair she'd caused. Just thinking about a few of those stunts brought tears to Nikki's eyes. She'd give anything to have her mom standing over her, shouting at the top of her lungs right now. To walk into the kitchen and see her mom standing at the stove, making dinner.
Whatever her mom had written about, Nikki wasn't sure she could ever bring herself to open the diary and look. If she had a question about something she read, she couldn't go to her mom and ask her about it. She'd never be able to talk with anyone about what she read, and that would only magnify the loss she felt. It was enough that she had the book. She could press her nose to the cover and smell her mom's perfume, rub her hands across the cover and know that her mom's hands had done the same thing. It was a way to connect, just like Aunt Pam said it would be.
Nikki rolled to her stomach and stacked her hands under her head, deep in thought. Almost three weeks had passed since Pam had arrived and Nikki was holding her breath, waiting on the day her aunt announced that she was leaving. She didn't know what she'd do when the day came. It didn't even bear thinking about. Her dad was great, but having him around wasn't the same as having another woman around to talk to.
Aunt Pam was the complete opposite of her mom in a lot of ways, and Nikki didn't feel shy about bringing up certain things to her. They had talked about sex a few days ago and Pam hadn't started talking in riddles and turning red in the face as she answered questions.
Nikki remembered that her mom had had trouble getting past talking about the purpose of menstruation, let alone discussing the actual mechanics of sex, and in the end, her dad was the one who'd explained everything to her. But Pam talked freely and openly about it, and even Nikki had blushed at some of the things she'd said. That was Aunt Pam for you, though.
She'd made Nikki promise not to have sex until she was absolutely sure she was ready to handle the consequences, whatever they were. And there were always consequences, she said. The only time she'd clammed up was when Nikki had asked her how old she was when she'd had sex for the first time. That question, Nikki suddenly realized, was never answered.
Nikki was sure that her Aunt Pam had a lot of knowledge to pass on. Her mom had been there every day in boring Mercy, Georgia, but Aunt Pam had traveled all over the world, done a lot of things and she knew a lot of people. She'd seen her in magazines, looking glamorous and with super fine men. She kept up with all the gossip and she knew that her aunt had had a few high-powered boyfriends. And she listened to the songs she sang about being in love and how great it was. You couldn't go through all that and not know some things.
Nikki hadn't yet mentioned it to anyone, but her future was all planned out. As soon as she graduated from high school she was planning to get the hell out of Mercy. She wanted to go to college, but she wanted to do it in California, where Pam lived. She'd never broached the subject with her parents, but she knew she would have to bring it up to her dad soon because it was getting close to time to start talking about college and applying to schools. Her mom had always said that Aunt Pam had itchy feet and that's why she left Mercy all those years ago. Well, Nikki guessed she had the same itchy feet, because she was waiting on the day she could do the same thing.
Mercy wasn't so bad that she'd stay away forever, though. Unlike Pam, she wouldn't let a death be the only reason she came back. She'd come back to visit her dad and her friends, and to visit her mom, so she wouldn't get lonely out there in the cemetery by herself, but she was leaving. That part wasn't up for negotiation. She hoped her dad didn't blow a gasket when she told him.
She looked up at the knock on her door. “Come in.”
Chad opened the door wide enough to stick his head inside the room. “You coming down for dinner?” He looked around the cluttered room like he thought something might jump out and bite him. Discarded clothing covered almost every available surface. “This room gives me a migraine every time I see it.”
“Yours doesn't look much better.”
“I pay the bills, so mine doesn't have to look better. Come on down and help me eat some of the casserole Ms. Harrison forced on me,” he said. “I don't want to have to look her in the face and lie about eating it the next time I see her in the grocery store.”
Nikki's face wrinkled knowingly. “Mom always brought Ms. Harrison's cakes in the house and put them straight in the trash. You should work on being a better liar, dad.”
“It's either the casserole or sandwiches and at least the casserole is hot. And lying isn't the best habit to be perfecting, I don't think. Tell you what, help me eat some of it and we'll go out tomorrow.”
She pushed off the bed and straightened her shirt on her way to the door. She was a tall girl, but her dad was even taller. She looked up at him and smiled. “Can we invite Aunt Pam to go with us?”
Caught off guard, Chad looked at Nikki for more seconds than were necessary for such a simple question. “She might have other plans,” he finally said.
“She might not. Why don't you want to ask her?”
“I didn't say I didn't want to ask her. I just said she might be busy.” He released the door so she could move past him into the hallway.
Nikki turned to study his face shrewdly. “You don't like Aunt Pam very much, do you, Dad? That's why you hardly talk to her and why you guys argue all the time.”
Surprised, Chad's mouth fell open. “What?” was all he could think to say. Anything else would've given up the ghost, providing his daughter with more information than was really necessary for her to have. Still though, he couldn't help but think back on the origins of her question. For a long time hatred was the very thing he felt whenever he thought of Pam; that and incomprehensible anger. He'd held himself in check for as long as he could, thinking that he'd mastered his emotions and made peace with his life, but it hadn't taken him long to discover that he was only fooling himself.
Paris hadn't known what to think when he finally did blow up, and for his part, he hadn't been thinking at all. He'd only been feeling. The day came back to him as he stared at Nikki, the cause of it all.
He beat Paris to the phone by scant seconds, snatching up the receiver and punching in numbers like he was possessed. Paris was pulling on his shirt and whispering for him to hang up and the longer he held the phone to his ear, the more agitated she became. Tired of her antics and oblivious to her distress, Chad yanked his shirt out of her grasp and stalked over to the door to slam it shut. Nikki was down the hall in her room, watching another one of those goddamn tapes she was fascinated with, ones of Pam prancing around onstage like she didn't have a care in the world and he didn't want her to overhear.
The phone dragged across the floor with each step he took, knocking against furniture and stretching the cord, but he was beyond caring. He stared at Paris's tear-drenched face and felt nothing but anger.
Pam answered the phone on the other end and he sucked in a sharp breath before saying what he had called to say.
“What the fuck were you thinking, Pam?” He fought to keep his voice even and reasonable, but it was damn hard to do.
“I don't know what . . .” Pam began.
“You don't know? You don't
know
, Pam?” He took two steps backward and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You're a selfish bitch, do you know that?” He heard Pam's shocked gasp and thought about going through the phone. “There's a little girl here who has no clue just how selfish you are. You send all those silly presents and all that other bullshit, but it doesn't mean a fucking thing. And it doesn't make up for the fact that you abandoned your child.”
Finally able to speak, Pam's voice floated through the phone softly. He could hear that she was crying. “Please don't do this to me, Chad. Not now. I can't . . .”
“Don't tell me what you can't do, Pam. You can do whatever the fuck you want to do. You can sneak away to have my child and you can give her to your sister like she's a purse you don't want anymore, but you can't tell me anything?” He waited for her response and silence reigned when none was forthcoming.
“Chad . . . please . . .” Paris begged pitifully. She was still confused as to what had set him off. Everything had happened so fast. One minute he was in the kitchen pouring himself a glass of juice and the next thing she knew, the glass was sailing across the room, crashing into the wall and juice was flying everywhere. Then he was racing off, searching for the phone to “call the lying bitch.”
She tugged on his shirt one time too many and Chad lost it. He smacked Paris's hands away roughly and sent her stumbling backward with fear in her eyes. “This is too much,” he said to Pam. “Both of you, plotting and scheming to keep me away from my child. I could accept that you left if that was all there was to it Pam, but this shit you pulled is over the goddamn top. You don't give a shit about how you've fucked up Paris's life, you don't give a shit about how you've fucked up Nikki's life, and you don't give a shit about what you've done to me. Did you think about any of that when you thought up your fucking master plan?”
“It wasn't supposed to be like this,” Pam whispered. The call had come through in the middle of a recording session. She was huddled in a corner, trying to keep from being overheard and hoping that Chad's voice didn't carry too far. “You don't understand.”
“Oh, I think I understand perfectly. I understand that we were together and you left. I understand that you were pregnant and you didn't tell me. I understand that you gave my child away without so much as asking me how I felt about that and I understand that you are a sick, self-absorbed bitch.”
“You married my sister and you're calling me sick?”
“What else was I supposed to do?” Across the room, Paris started at the tone of his voice, and across the country, Pam pressed shaky fingers to her eyelids and held in a sob. “What the fuck was I supposed to do, Pam, huh? How else would I have had the chance to raise my child? What other options did you give me?”
Pam was silent.
“Answer me!” Chad shouted and both Paris and Pam began crying. He looked askance at Paris and uttered a harsh string of curse words in Pam's ear. “I came there looking for you once. Did you know that?” He didn't notice the shocked expression on Paris's face. “I came there looking for you, to see if you had the guts to look me in my face and lie to me. You weren't there, though, and now I know that's a good thing because I would've fucking killed you, you bitch.”
Paris leapt off the bed and came toward him. “Chad, that's enough. Give me the phone.”
“Fuck you, Pam,” Chad kept talking. “Fuck everything we had, fuck everything we were, and fuck you. I hope I never see your fucking face again.” With that, he dropped the phone on the bed and scrubbed his hands across his face.
Paris grabbed the receiver and pressed it to her chest, staring at him. “You went there?”
“Hell yes, I went there. Did you think I would not? You tell that bitch her shit is done. She comes here and I'll kill her with my bare hands.” He went in the adjoining bathroom and slammed the door behind him.
Six long months had passed before he was able to pick up the phone, hear Pam's voice on the other end asking to speak with Paris or Nikki and not hang up on her.
Too many years had passed for his feelings to still be as raw and inflamed as they were back then. Yet Nikki had picked up on them easily and accurately, making him wonder just how much she'd sensed when he thought she was too young to be aware of everything that was going on over her head. She had enough on her plate to deal with, without the added worry of strife among her remaining family. And wasn't it his responsibility to see that she was as happy as she could be under the circumstances?
“Call your aunt and ask her about dinner tomorrow night,” Chad told Nikki. “You're right, she might not be busy.” He passed the salt across the kitchen table and forced himself to pick up his fork and eat.

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