Break Away: A Midwest Small Town Romance Page 2

  I was standing in our living room, staring out the window, impatiently waiting. Mrs. Carlson was picking them up and would be bringing them home any minute.

  For as far back as I can remember, Mrs. Carlson has lived next door to us. Now in her late sixties, she lives alone. My Nonna and she were the best of friends and when Nonna got sick, she asked Mrs. Carlson to look after us. Looking back now, it must have been such a struggle for her, knowing that her death was going to be far much more than my mother could handle.

  As soon as I saw Mrs. Carlson’s station wagon pull up to our trailer, my heart started to race with anticipation. I was beyond excited and couldn’t wait to meet Enzo. My mother walked into the trailer and sat his car seat down on the couch. To the fridge she went, grabbing a beer, cracking it open, and storming off to her room. She slammed the door so hard that he jumped and started to scream.

  I watched him from across the room as his tiny arms began reaching into the air, frantically searching for someone to comfort him. I ran to him and after struggling with the straps on his car seat, I carefully picked him up. He was so little that I was scared I would break him.

  I began walking around our trailer, back and forth, back and forth, trying to calm him down. As I stood in the kitchen, cradling him, I began singing “Godspeed” by The Chicks. He stopped crying and stared up at me with those big blue eyes. We had an immediate connection. I started rubbing his soft, sweet baby face with my cheek and whispered in his ear, “I got you. I will always have you.” He wrapped his tiny hand around my finger and to this day has not let go.

  I have been his everything. His whole world for the past five years. I fed him, changed him, potty trained him. I have taught him to be kind, to love unconditionally, and always try his hardest. He calls me Sissy, but only after years of correcting him every time he called me Mommy. My mother would get so mad when she heard him call me that.

  “Why does he keep calling you mommy? It’s because you keep telling him to. That better stop! Do you understand me!”

  I just nodded and told her that I was sorry. There was no arguing with her. Ever. She lit up a cigarette and went back to her room, mumbling things under her breath. That is where we liked her. In her room.

  As we stand in the bathroom, getting ready for the day, I smile down at Lorenzo and take his face in my hands.

  “You are going to be fine Enzo, I promise! The day will fly by. Plus, after school you get to go to the movies with after school care.”

  His eyes light up and he smiles the biggest smile. Those dimples, oh, those dimples.

  “Lorenzo Thomas, oh, the hearts you are going to break.” I ruffle his hair again and he giggles. “Now, run and grab your bag, quick. Mrs. Carlson will be here any second.”

  I blow him a kiss through the screen door as I watch him climb into Mrs. Carlson’s car. Before leaving, I grab a handful of chips out of an open bag on the counter and make damn sure that the door slams behind me. I would love for it to wake my mother. To shake her alcohol-soaked brain, that guaranteed is pounding. I know better, though. The sound of the door slamming won’t faze her. She’ll be passed out for the remainder of the day.

  I usually love going to school. Getting away from all the responsibilities at home and escape my world for a bit. I can act my own age there. Today, however, I am dreading it. My best friend Ezra and I had a huge fight on Friday and because of it, we haven’t talked all weekend.

  Ezra Robertson and I have known each other since kindergarten. She is perky, outgoing, and ambitious. We are the definition of yin and yang. She has been the shoulder that I have cried on many times throughout the years. Ezra knows everything about me. Sometimes I think she knows more about me than I do. We have had our little spats over the years. She had the brunette Barbie that I wanted or got the last swing at recess—those petty little childhood spats, the ones that help you learn and grow as a person. But the fight on Friday was anything but. What she said to me in the cafeteria—well, that broke my heart.

  We were eating lunch together, talking about our plans for after graduation, which was less than a month away. She had been accepted to the NIU nursing program, her dream since grade school, and I was going to get a job at the grocery store in town, Pacemaker. After I was able to save up for a car, I was hoping to start a few classes at our local college the following fall. For now though, my main priority was Lorenzo and as much as I yearned to climb out from under my mother’s hold, college would have to wait.

  As we were discussing our dreams for the future, Chase, a guy that she had been obsessing over for the past three months, snuck up behind her. He squeezed her waist, making her jump. She looked up at him and smiled, a crazy, girl-in-love smile. He bent down and whispered something into her ear, making her giggle and turn three shades of red. I watched her as she grabbed onto his hand and he pulled away, leaving her love-struck eyes following him back to where he sat. He never sat with us. We are not the most popular girls in school, to say the least and Chase Rohlington is Durand High’s star quarterback. I can’t stand the guy and I told Ezra that he is just going to use her.

  I had allowed my heart and body to be the target of his type two times. No phone call the next day, several ghosted texts, and whispers filling the halls of my school. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. I can't stand by and let the same thing happen to her.

  “Oh, God, Ezra, are you still talking to him?” I stabbed at my baked potato with my fork as I gave her a look of annoyance.

  “Sofi, I think if you gave him just five minutes, you would see that he’s not who you think he is.” She looked down at her plate and started moving her food around. “I really like him.” Her voice was quiet, and she wouldn’t look me in the eyes. “I mean, I think I might be falling in love with him.”

  I stared back at her, completely shocked, my mouth hanging open.

  “Oh. My. God. Ezra you cannot be serious? When do you ever see him, like hang out with him in person?” I knew for a fact that all she did was Snapchat with him at night. He wouldn’t even be seen with her in the halls.

  She was not happy, and I could tell that this was going to get heated. I did not, however, expect her to say what she said next.

  “Why Sofia? Why can't you just be happy for me? I have finally found someone that really cares about me. He thinks I'm amazing and you...you can’t be happy for me? It’s almost as if you are jealous of what Chase and I have.” She stood up and slapped her hands on top of the table, looking like she was going to lunge at me.

  I didn’t even try to stop my dramatic eye roll at how ridiculous she was being about this guy!

  “Ezra, you have got to be kidding me right now! He doesn’t even sit with you at lunch. He walks by you in the halls as if you don’t even exist, and you are all right with being treated like that? He's just using you and I don't want you to get hurt!”

  I watched her face twist in frustration and anger as she slowly sat back down. Resting her arms on the table, she leaned forward and squinted her emerald eyes at me.

  “You're jealous, aren’t you? You cannot stand that I have someone in my life who won’t turn around and run as soon as they meet my mom! That I can actually go places and do things. You couldn’t even go to our senior prom because you had to take care of your little brother because your drunk, pill popping, whore of a moth—” She stopped abruptly and put both hands over her mouth. She stared at me in horror, as if her brain had just registered what she had screamed out at me.

  Ezra stared back at me from across the table, for what seemed like an eternity. I could see her mouth the words, “Sofi, I’m sorry.” But it was too late.

  The surrounding tables were packed full of my classmates. Everyone was staring at us, silent and still, waiting for my response. She had said it loud enough, and they had heard every single word.

  I know that everyone knows who my mother is. That there are few men she hasn’t slept with in our sleepy little Midwest town. That she drinks when
she works at The Corner Tap as a bartender. That at the end of most of her shifts, she can barely walk. But to hear all those truths pouring out of my best friend's mouth. It stung. Hard.

  I stared back at her, shocked, heartbroken, and enraged. I grabbed my tray and slowly stood up. I hightailed it for the door, ignoring all the eyes that were piercing through me. All I could hear was Ezra yelling, “Sofi, come back; I’m sorry!”

  I didn’t care about her pleas, I just wanted to get out. To get as far away from her and all the hushed whispering. I quickened my steps. I couldn’t get to the door fast enough. I threw my tray down on an empty table and stormed out.

  That is when I slammed into Cameron Jacobson. Stumbling backwards, he grabbed me by my arms and pulled me towards him. I looked up at him and for a split second, got lost in his mossy green eyes. He smiled down at me as he blew at a wisp of his blond hair that had fallen out of place. A shiver of excitement shot through me and I quickly pushed off him.

  Cam was new to our high school this year. He had moved here from Chicago with his mother. He had asked me out several times, but I always had an excuse as to why I couldn’t go, never letting on that it was really my responsibility for my little brother that kept me from having a normal social life. He had beautiful sandy blond hair that looked so soft, I had to fight the urge to touch it whenever he was near. I would be lying if I denied the fact that he’d been the subject of a few nights of pleasuring myself. Possibly more than I can count on my right hand.

  From what I had heard through a few friends, he dabbled in anything that would label him as off limits. This was a turn off for me. I didn’t want another person that I would have to take care of. He was pretty to look at though. A perfect specimen to envision as I touched myself in the middle of the night.

  He grabbed my arm as I started to walk away. “Sofi, are you alright? You look like you're upset.”

  “Oh, I’m fine, just heading to my locker. I... I forgot something.”

  He knew that I was lying through my teeth. The tear that slowly made its way down my cheek gave that away. He reached out and wiped it away, caressing my cheek with the back of his hand, sending a shiver down my spine. I pulled myself together and started walking backwards, shaking my head at him.

  “No. No, I’m fine. I have to go.” I turned around and ran down the hall.

  I left school early that day. I just walked straight out the doors of my high school. My mom didn’t even know I was home because she was sleeping. When she got up to shower for her night shift, she had no clue that I had been home since a little after noon, made dinner for Enzo, gave him a bath, read him a bedtime story, and tucked him into bed.

  I sat in my living room last Friday night, scrolling through all of the photos everyone was posting online. Sleeping over at each other's houses, being silly in Target, going to the movies, hanging out with their boyfriends...just being young and free.

  It made me angry. Because Ezra was right. I knew that she was, but it didn’t make what she said any less painful.

  As I walk to school this morning, I revisit our fight in my head. My eyes start to burn.

  Nope, not happening Sofia. Just stop. Get your ass in there and do you. Less than a month and you are out of here. Leaving all of this behind someday and taking Enzo with you. You got this.

  That is just what I did. I walked through those doors and held my head high. Ezra didn’t speak a word to me all day. Not even a glance. I don’t know what I expected her to do, or better yet, how I would react if she did come up to me. But no words were exchanged.

  I was curious to know what had changed over the weekend between her and Chase. Something had. She sat with him at lunch and made sure that everyone in the school knew they were together.

  As I walk home from school, I start dreading that nothing will ever be the same between Ezra and me. I know that things are destined to change, with graduating and her leaving for college, but I am not ready for it. She has always been my constant, my rock. I don’t know how I will function in the chaos if she isn’t a part of my life.

  Then it begins.

  My stomach starts doing the thing that it does. It has done it as far back as I can remember, so I am used to it. At this point in my life, it is just more annoying than anything. It always happens when I start to think about anything of importance, and sometimes things that wouldn’t seem important to others. It always starts like tiny flutters in my belly and then slowly a fire washes over my entire body, ending with my arms and legs going numb. It never lasts long, and I have learned to not fight it and just let it do its thing. Sometimes it’s short lived and other times it lasts longer. Today it came on strong and deep, growing with every step I take towards our trailer.

  It’s when I turn onto my street that I see it sitting in my driveway. The sexiest black Ford pickup truck that I have ever seen. It is lifted and has black matte rims and tinted windows. It makes my heart skip a beat. I envision myself climbing up into it, rolling down the windows, turning up the radio and tearing up a dirt road. Leaving my life, this town, and all of my past in the dust. This beautiful piece of machinery makes our dull and run-down trailer look like something of a Matchbox car.

  I don’t know what it is, but pickup trucks are my weakness. I know that I will never drive one, let alone own one, but a girl can dream.

  What I want to know is, why is it in our driveway? We don’t know anyone that has enough money to own a truck like that. For obvious reasons, my mother has no friends, and her men only visit after hours. I can guarantee that even if it is one of her nightly visitors, they would not be driving a truck like that.

  Curiosity makes my feet move faster and before I know it, I am running up our porch steps and twisting the knob to my front door.

  Who is on the other side?

  I might have thought twice about opening that door had I known that my world was about to flip upside down.

  I am not thrilled about driving my brother to this whore’s house. I have a shit ton of paperwork to do back at the hotel and a pounding headache. Pretty sure that it’s from having to babysit a bunch of sissies that don’t want to break a sweat at work. I can only hope that this may be the perfect opportunity to shake Crew. Even if it’s only for the few weeks that we will be here, I’ll take it.

  “Where the hell do you find these women that let you move in with them the night after you fuck?” I shake my head as I turn off route 75 onto Wheeler Road.

  “Shit, they get a taste of what I can put in them and they're begging me to share their bed! And I hit the jackpot with this one. This thing that she does with her tongue, Jesus, never had that done to me before.” Crew flicks his stub of a Camel out the window and tells me which road to turn on. I have told him a thousand times that smoking isn’t allowed in my baby, but he doesn’t give a shit. He never has and never will. This woman has no idea what she is getting herself into. But in less than five minutes he will no longer be my problem. Until we have to chase the next storm into the next state, that is. I am going to help him carry his shit into this chick’s house, reply to some emails before hitting the road again and then I’m out.

  “How in the hell did you end up here. This town is thirty plus outside of Rockford and maybe what, a thousand people live here?” We finally pull through the town square, one way in and one way out. No stoplights. More bars than people and the people that are here are staring hard. I’m used to people staring at me and my truck—she is pretty hard not to stare at—but this isn't about that. They know damn well that we don't belong here.

  “Shit, happened like out of a movie, bro. Tim’s brother lives out here, you know the one with the lazy eye?”

  “Yeah, that ain’t all that’s lazy about him.” I follow Crews' direction and turn right onto East Main Street, taking note of the dead-end sign under the street name.

  “Not everyone gets to bark orders all day from the ground, while everyone else is up on a hot ass roof working!”

  “Fuck off, I
did my fair share of that; I don’t have to do that anymore. I own this shit.” I wave my right arm up in the air, getting pissed that this motherfucker is even sitting in my truck. Let alone on my payroll. I don’t really have much of a choice, though. Not since that night.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah, anyways, he took me to that bar we just passed.”

  “Which one, there were like four.”

  “The Corner Tap. Walked into the bar, sat down, and came face to face with this super-hot bartender. Short blond hair and the craziest looking blue eyes. Did shots with her the whole night and the rest is pretty much history.”

  “Yak. I’m good on the details after you pretty much carried her home.”

  “Huh, how’d ya know.” Crew laughs his usual annoying cackle, which makes me give my truck a little more gas. I am more than ready to dump him and his shit off and get back to my work at the hotel.

  “I just hope she’s legal.”

  “Fuck you, Noah! You know I ain’t done that since Cami.” He chuckles and rage builds up in my belly. I slam my forearm across his chest, and he howls out in pain.

  “I told you not to fucking bring her name up. Ever.” He rubs at his chest and points to the end of the road.

  “Right there; that’s where she lives.”

  A huge metal sign with the words Otter Creek Estates sits on the top of two crumbling cement posts. I slow my truck and pull through the entrance, trying to avoid blowing a tire out in one of the dozen potholes that pits the washed-away gravel. Flashbacks of my childhood in New Orleans start playing in my head. This place has an eerie resemblance to the trailer parks that I grew up in. But isn’t that all trailer parks? The bad ones, anyway. And this one had bad spread out all over it. The missing steps to decks that are held up by cinder blocks. Garbage bags piled high under kitchen windows that are covered with years of cigarette smoke. Kids that can't be older than three or four run around unsupervised, while their parents drink at the neighbor’s trailer.