Order placed, Katelyn walked back to the small cafeteria table where, of all the bizarre things, Brian Archer waited, one hand resting on her luggage cart.
She settled the kids into blue swiveling chairs, then rummaged for their water bottles in what would have been her carry-on bag, if life could ever, even once, give her a break. The kids slurped their drinks like she’d been depriving them of fluids for a year not an hour, and the counter girl brought out their food.
Both children grinned when they saw their dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets, and for a second it felt like a regular outing, one that involved a rare fast food treat. Then Brian cleared his throat and blew that fairy tale delusion all to heck. And why was he still at the table with them anyway? She’d already thanked him. He needed to go already.
She stole a covert glance at him. Why wouldn’t he go? He may not have recognized her first off—and no wonder—but she’d known him the instant he appeared, seeming disgruntled by their very existence. His sandy blond hair was longer than he used to wear it, and it was tousled like he’d just come from bed or the beach or something. Stubble lined his square jaw, and the years since school had given him light creases on either side of his mouth and a slightly brooding wrinkle on his forehead, tempered by tiny laugh lines—all which suited him. His dress shirt was a little rumpled and untucked from his beige Dockers, and its top two buttons were undone. All that was surface stuff though; only his eyes were truly different. Oh, they were the same captivating color of stormy sea that she remembered, but they were tired or something. They didn’t sparkle with intrigue or light up in teasing interest the way they had when she’d known him before, when he dated her best friend. Even when he’d made his flirtatious crack about noticing every girl, they hadn’t lightened.
She suddenly realized she was staring at Brian like she’d never seen an attractive man before in her life. Cringing mortification flooded through her. She busied herself opening the kids’ honey-mustard dips and doling out napkins, so Brian wouldn’t see her face and possibly guess her thoughts. Even in the privacy of her own head she sounded like some sad, desperate nutcase. And good grief, it wasn’t like she’d had that huge a crush on him back in the day or anything. She’d just been aware that she really liked how he looked. And now she was noticing that she still did.
Focus, she commanded herself. You’ve got bigger issues to worry about—like what on earth are you and the kids going to do? Where are you going to stay?
Before she could think on it more, Brian shocked her further. He slid into a chair beside Lacey. He was going to sit with them? Why? Her heart jumped a little in panic. She tried to keep her face neutral, to not glower, to not show nervousness or fear.
Stop it, she muttered to herself again. He’s not Steve. Not every guy acting nice is just acting. Not every man has a hidden agenda.
“So, uh, when you were ordering food, Lacey here introduced herself and said you don’t have any place to live.”
Katelyn’s face flamed yet again. Lacy had said what? Well, of course, she had. Great, just great. One part of her felt relieved. She always worried that through example she might have taught her kids to keep too quiet, or to feel shame over things they should never have witnessed, let alone feel responsible for.
In the early years, she’d tried her best to counteract those unspoken lessons through words: You can share any story. You can tell any detail. You can talk about anything. Nothing has to be secret. And now, or for the past two years anyway, she’d tried to teach it by example, but it was hard to know, to believe, to trust, that she could undo the damage that had been done and could keep a sense of silence and shame from being a life sentence—especially if she couldn’t get her kids away from Steve permanently. So no, she’d never fault Lacey for being open and truthful or tell her not to talk about certain things . . . but honestly, was it too much to ask that she escape this day with one shred of dignity left?
Katelyn shook her head briskly. “I wouldn’t say that exactly. I mean we gave notice on our apartment, and—”
“There’s a zero percent vacancy rate,” Lacey piped in.
Shit. Katelyn bit her lip. How on earth had she overheard all that? It made her feel like her heart was caving in to hear it relayed so matter-of-factly. That was the worst part of this whole mess of trying to break free of Steve’s control—how much the kids picked up, how much of their innocence was robbed, how many adult cares it put on them, despite her best intentions. Lacey must’ve eavesdropped the last time she and Janet talked on the phone.
“Is that true?” Brian asked, frowning.
Katelyn shrugged. She needed to get rid of him. Her affairs were none of his business. “Look,” she said. “I appreciate your kindness, but the kids need to eat and I need to adjust my plans and get stuff organized for tonight. I can handle things from here.”
He looked at her for a moment, then nodded. As he stood up, her phone rang. She forced a smile, waved, and looked at her call display. Unknown caller. Biting her lip, she pressed Talk. “Hello?”
“Katelyn, honey, I hear there was a mix up at the airport and you couldn’t take off as planned. What happened?”
Steve. She let his concerned (oily and fake) voice finish his sentence, then nodded as if considering something. “Yes, there was some confusion. I can’t talk about it right now though. Thanks for calling.” She clicked End before he could get another word in, hoping beyond hope that she had sounded genuinely unfazed.
She’d read somewhere that people like Steve thrive on knowing that they’re getting to you, that you’re afraid or intimidated. That all they want is to continue being in a relationship with you, no matter what, so any form of engagement—arguments, fear, begging, warning, reasoning, bartering—all feels like a win.
Katelyn recognized the truth in the advice, but honestly, it was a lot easier said than done.
She popped a fry into her mouth, but could hardly chew and swallow. Brian was still standing there.
“How are you getting to town? Do you need a ride to a hotel?” he asked.
Her eyes narrowed. “It’s disconcerting to have someone refuse to take no for an answer,” she said. “I have no idea why you’re being so pushy, and I don’t care if I seem rude. I appreciated your help with the cart, but that’s enough. It’s not gallant to force aid on someone who has told you they’re fine. It’s inappropriate.”
Brian stepped back as if slapped and his face reddened. “Uh, yeah, sorry. I thought . . .” He didn’t bother to elaborate on what he’d thought exactly, just apologized again and left.
Lacey looked down at her plate.
What now? Katelyn thought. What now?
“I might have accidentally told him that you quit your job and sold our car for extra cash,” Lacey blurted—again quoting Katelyn’s words to Janet almost verbatim.
“I’m sorry,” Lacey added before her mom could say anything. “I know I don’t need to tell everyone our life story.”
Ouch, the kid really was a parrot!
“I just thought he was nice, plus he knows Auntie Janet. I was trying to be polite and talk so it wasn’t all weird and quiet.”
Katelyn exhaled and willed away the stupid tears threatening yet again. She smiled with sincere fondness at her daughter. “One: you can tell people anything you want. No secrets, remember? Unless it’s something fun like a surprise birthday party or something. Two: Brian probably is nice, but sometimes seeming nice isn’t the same thing as actually being a good or safe person, so always be careful, okay? Most people are safe and kind, but some are not. It’s good you told me what you guys talked about—and never, no matter what, go off with anybody without clearing it with me first, right?”
Lacey nodded.
“And three,” Katelyn smiled again, “like you could ever go five minutes without talking.”
Lacey giggled. “Yeah, that’s true.”
“Now eat up, you guys. I’m going to find us a place to stay tonight.”
Sawyer made a small dinosaur growl, and both Katelyn and Lacey looked at him in surprise. He chomped a nugget.
Lacey grinned. “Grrr yourself!”
Katelyn took one of Sawyer’s small hands and one of Lacey’s, and squeezed them softly.
“It’s going to be okay, right, Mom?” Lacey asked, squeezing back.
“Yeah, right, Mom?” Sawyer echoed, surprising Katelyn again.
“It’s going to be better than okay,” Katelyn said with forced optimism. “It’s going to be great.”
And inside her head, she said, Please, let that be true. Please. And please help me figure out what to do.