Chapter Text
Following the young girl across the park, you were trying not to sound out of breath but were struggling to keep pace with the energy of the precocious eight-year-old girl you were chasing.
“Wren!” You called out as you pounded pavement, nearly catching up with the sprite-like girl who was giggling and running.
You couldn’t help but laugh at her, her giggling infectious as she made her way towards the brightly coloured swings.
“C’mon Bunny!” Wren squealed as she climbed up on the swing, her jeans hiking up as she jumped on the rubber seat.
Shaking your head with mirth at the nickname she hadn’t dropped, you couldn’t shake it, and her father had even started calling you Bunny.
“Alright, Munchkin, alright.” You ruffled her hair after taking a few breaths.
Setting your hands on her waist, you pulled her back cautiously and gave her a strong push forward. She giggled as she reached new heights, happily smiling widely as she kicked her little legs in the air.
Tempted to sit on a swing yourself, you knew that with Wren’s track record she would try to jump off before it was safe. Not risking her breaking a limb, you acted as a spotter. You scanned the periphery of the park, noting that there were few people around. The weather wasn’t the best, but Wren was bundled in a vibrant red raincoat and bright yellow rainboots.
Stepping on the woodchips of the playground, you observed Wren as she continued giggling, her head towards the darkening clouds above.
“How long do I have left to play, Bunny?” Wren asked in a yell as she didn’t look your way.
You looked to the darkening sky, shale clouds a stark contrast to the blackening sky, “well, do you want to play in the rain?”
Wren continued laughing, “yeah!”
You looked to your watch on your left wrist, “we can play for longer, but we won’t be able to watch both Barbie movies, just one.”
Wren considered her options, “I want two movies and snacks!”
“Alright sweetpea, then you have ten more minutes before we head back to the car.”
Wren asked in a yell, “can we have pizza?!”
You were surprising her with Chinese food that you had ordered to the house that was due to arrive in an hour.
“I have dinner planned already, but it’s a surprise. We can have pizza in a few days.”
Wren knew she liked your surprises, so she began trying to deduce what the surprise was.
“Is it pad Thai?”
You had introduced her to a variety of foods at a young age, not wanting to raise a child that only ate chicken nuggets, cheese pizza and buttered noodles.
You shrugged and kicked some of the wood chips with your converse-laden foot, “I dunno. Could be.”
Wren stopped kicking her legs and let herself slow down, “…is it butter chicken?”
You repeated a shrug and a blank face.
“Tacos?”
“You’ll have to wait and see.” You finally said trying to curb her guessing.
“I bet it’s Greek food.”
You refused to comment as Wren predictably jumped from the swing too early. Grunting as you caught her, you hugged her tightly and squeezed as she squealed loudly.
“Bunny! Lemme go!” Wren ordered with no bite to her voice.
Feigning dropping her, she screamed in delight as you did it over and over again.
“Oh, you wanted to be let go?” You teased with a wide grin.
“Don’t let me fall!” Wren pleaded with a smile so wide it stretched across her face.
You kissed her brow and gently set her down, holding her hand with a small squeeze, “I never would, Munchkin.”
………………….
Corralling Wren into the car and into her booster seat, you knew the device was not going to be necessary much longer. Her height and weight were progressing in such a way that the legal requirement wasn’t going to be an issue. Setting her up with her travelling sheep plush, you saw as she gently pressed his ear.
“How’s Ham doing?” You asked as you backed out of the small parking lot.
“He wants to know what the surprise is.” Wren informed you sweetly.
You snickered, “are you sure that it’s Ham that wants to know?”
Wren let out an indignant huff and crossed her arms over her chest, “I want to know too, but so does Ham.”
You decided to give her a hint, “it’s one of your favourites.”
“Chicken parmesan?” Wren asked excitedly.
You scoffed with good humor, “not that one, Munchkin.”
Keeping your eyes on the road, fat droplets of water began to cascade on your windshield. Tracking the roads to the suburbs, you kept your eyes peeled for any drivers going too fast in the rain. Checking your blind spot, you merged onto the highway leading to the house.
“Is it green?” Wren frowned.
“It doesn’t have green peppers.” You promised.
Wren hated uncooked green bell pepper. Cooked in sauces and broken down, she didn’t mind it. Raw green pepper was the devil, and you knew not to even joke with her on that knowing she would throw it back at you and make a gagging noise.
“Good. Those are yucky!”
“You might change your mind in the future, Munchkin. You might not like it now, but your tastebuds may change. I used to hate tomatoes as a kid.”
“But tomatoes are in everything good.” Wren frowned as you looked in your mirror.
“Well, I liked ketchup, pizza sauce, and spaghetti, but not tomatoes on their own. But I started to like them over time.”
“I like tomatoes with olive oil and salt and pepper.” Wren announced.
“With the cheese and the basil?”
“That isn’t a salad, Bunny.” Wren said deadpan, “they’re wrong, a salad needs more than one vegetable.”
You snickered and held the steering wheel carefully as you turned onto the small street. Driving cautiously, you ensured that you were in the clear before turning left onto the last house on the street.
Rising from the car, you watched Wren dart to the porch, diligently covering Ham with her coat and yelling at you to hurry.
Unlocking the door and taking her coat to hang up, you watched as Wren put her boots on the tray and headed into her bedroom to fetch the DVD she wanted to watch.
Knowing the routine by heart, you began cutting up some fruits on a plate for her to munch on before dinner arrived.
After a few moments, Wren returned changed into pyjamas and with her fuzzy pink blanket and mouse slippers on. Looking cozy, you smiled at Wren and offered her some strawberries.
“Thanks Bunny.” Wren said with a toothy grin.
“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” You said as you guided her to the couch with her small tray table.
Knowing the routine, she set the plate on the table and got comfortable as you began to set up the table in the other room. Taking two plates and putting them next to each other, you were going to let Wren have some juice with dinner.
“Apple juice, orange juice, peach juice, or grape juice Munchkin?” You called out as you looked into the fridge.
“Grape please!” Wren called back.
Finding her favourite plastic cup, you set it down and poured a fair amount of liquid in the cup. As the doorbell rang, you set out on finding the cash you had taken out of the ATM earlier in the week. Answering with a smile, you gave the delivery driver the same amount you had always given him, and he gave you a nod.
“Mister Price home yet?” Kai asked as he handed you a few bags.
Your employer had been a customer of the restaurant for close to a decade, frequenting the establishment between deployments and knowing Kai since he was close to nine years old.
You shook your head sadly, “I’m not sure when he’s coming back yet, Kai.”
The young man in front of you merely smiled politely and nodded, “tell him I say hello the next time you see him.”
“I will, Kai. Tell your parents thank you.”
Kai nodded as he carefully walked back to his car with the cash in his hand. Closing the door behind you, you locked it and set the bags down on the dining room table. Not expecting Wren to appear right beside you, you set your hand against your chest in surprise as you gasped.
“Goodness Wren, you’re a mouse.” You breathed as you ruffled her hair.
“Broccoli.” Wren cooed as she looked at the takeout boxes longingly.
You giggled unable to help it, “yes Munchkin, extra broccoli for you.”
…………………….
Setting Wren down to sleep after brushing her teeth and hair, you kissed her forehead and wished her a goodnight. Kissing the top of Ham’s head, you raised the blanket over them both as you switched on the small nightlight.
You had read her two chapters of the novel she wanted, and you were more than happy to take the time to read to her.
Closing the door, you made your way to the kitchen to put the leftovers into containers and make Wren’s snacks for the next day.
In the middle of cutting up fruit and vegetables, you heard your phone ping. Seeing a mere few texts about your outing tomorrow, you silenced your phone and kept working.
Finding yourself in the garage after Wren’s snacks were prepared, you popped your hood and were in the middle of adding new windshield washer fluid when you heard the door open behind you. Turning your head you noticed familiar cerulean eyes that were crinkled in a smile as he observed you.
“Mr. Price, good to have you back.” You greeted as you capped the valve.
“How many times will I have to tell you to call me John?” He sighed with mirth as you shrugged.
“I’ll get it next time.” You teased as you gave him a hug.
He had dropped his duffle bag on the ground next to your car and embraced you back, enveloping you in his arms.
Feeling encompassed in warmth, you let your head fall onto his shoulder for a few precious seconds before rising to your full height once more.
“Bunny, I could have done this for you, love.” John said with mild disappointment as he looked upon your popped hood.
You shook your head vehemently, “no God no, you just got home. I took it to the shop a few days ago, oil changed, brake pads changed, everything’s all good.”
Taking a look to the trusty Civic, you turned to John and looked to the doorway that led to the kitchen.
“There’s leftover Chinese or there’s some frozen meals I made that just need to be popped into the oven for a bit.”
John fought a yawn, but you knew he was exhausted. Slumped shoulders, bowed head, dark lines under his eyes.
“Go take a shower, drop your bag, and I’ll heat up the leftovers.” You informed him in a tone that brokered no argument.
He sighed, clearly thankful and gave a soft smile only afforded to you and Wren, “don’t know what I would do without you, Bunny.”
You smiled, “you’d be fine. You’d get another nanny in no time.”
He shook his head, “we wouldn’t be able to replace you, love.”
You didn’t deign to respond, knowing that you couldn’t be replaced because you wouldn’t allow yourself to be replaced. Wren and John were practically your family. Having started to look after Wren during university, you had completed your degree but had set aside the internship battle for school runs and cozy nights at home between her after school activities.
Estranged from family and on your own in a foreign country, you had fought for citizenship, and you knew John had pulled strings for you between deployments to ensure you could stay to look after Wren. A chance meeting where you had found Wren alone and in the cold, uncertain as to who had left her in the middle of the park in a pram.
She hadn’t been crying, her diaper bag remained with her pram in the middle of the desolate park close to Christmastime. You had taken the pram and the small bundle to the nearest police station, unable to stomach leaving her alone even for a minute.
Before you had taken her to the station you had changed her diaper and bought her a thicker blanket. Taking her into the station, you really didn’t know what to expect but you had been taken to a small room without cuffs on and without anyone with you.
Free to work on the table in the room where they had stashed you, you put your hair up with a spare pen and began working on take-home examinations. You were in the middle of finishing a conclusion to your research paper when a knock sounded at the door and you were met with a frazzled looking man with reddened eyes and clenched fists, a father trying to keep it together you later learned.
The officer you had spoken to had been beside him and as he held the tiny bundle in his arms he nodded to the officer and the man in uniform had left you staring at the father that commanded the room without uttering a word.
You had been nervous to speak, and you had gently shut your laptop and waited until he spoke to you in a raspy voice that was thick with emotion.
“You found my daughter.”
It wasn’t a question but a confirmation of what had happened. Despite it not being a question you jumped to provide more details to both soothe your nerves and to alleviate this man’s clear despondence.
“I was walking home, and I saw her alone and cold in the park. I couldn’t leave her out there. I mean, I waited for a bit, but after a little while I took the pram and bought a blanket and when she started to cry I changed her into clean clothes that were in the diaper bag…they told me she’s okay, she looked okay when I found her. I wasn’t sure if I should take her to a hospital…but I knew her parents were probably terrified.”
You paused for a moment, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear that escaped your bun, “…Sir, are you okay?”
He examined you and you had never felt more analyzed in your life. Looking to your thrifted clothes, your boots with the loose sole, your stitched backpack, your beat to hell laptop and your neatly handwritten notes, he took one look at you and made his silent assessment.
“I’m fine, love.”
The little bundle in his arms gurgled and you could see her little raised fist reaching out as she yawned tiredly.
You couldn’t help the smile that graced your features, and his eyes softened at you while you gazed upon the baby that looked content in his arms and against his chest.
Tucking your things in your bag, you looked at the hours that had passed and fought a yawn. You were due for a night in your cramped shoebox.
“Love, let me drive you home, it’s the least I can do.” He offered.
Protesting, you shook your head, “oh, no, no, it’s okay. I don’t live too far from here.”
He frowned, “where do you live?”
You were hesitant as you gave the street name and the address of your flat. He blinked for a moment and asked, “you’re an international student here on a visa?”
“Uhm, yeah, I am.” You confirmed as you sheepishly rubbed your fraying sweater sleeve.
“Pack your things, love. I’m taking you home. I won’t accept no for an answer.”
You had learned that Mr. Price’s wife had abandoned her child in the park. Post-partum depression and post-partum psychosis. You hadn’t asked but had later found out that after abandoning Wren, she had taken her own life.
You had never asked John about it and nor would you. You only offered your number upon him dropping you off.
“I used to babysit when I was younger if you need someone to watch your little girl. My First Aid certifications are up-to-date, and I did a background check for a few internships a few months ago.”
He had looked at your ripped page from your notebook and pocketed your slip of paper and gave you a nod without uttering a word about it, just ordering you in a thick rasp, “get inside love, lock your doors.”
You had merely nodded and had done just that. You had received a call three days later with a job offer that was flexible with your university schedule.
Since then you had been Wren’s primary guardian, on the lists for school and her doctor’s appointments. The early days your nerves were dialled to 11 until you managed to work out a routine that worked for you and Wren.
John hadn’t gone on deployment but had been working on the military base. Until he trusted you completely, he hadn’t left the country. When Wren turned one, he had explained the basic parameters of his job, noting that everything was classified and that he could be gone for weeks or months at a time.
You had accepted this no problem, the pay was excellent, Wren was a dream, and you eventually were informed you could cut your lease and stay in his basement with a private entrance.
Jumping at the chance, you had finished your degree and after walking the stage, you had held Wren against your hip. John was by your side cheering for you as you earned your degree. Choosing to hold Wren in your arms following grabbing the folder that contained four years of your life, it was a memory you cherished and was memorialized with your favourite photo of Wren touching your face while you were smiling at her, the love and joy evident in your features.
You hadn’t wanted to do anything but shed the gown and go home to the baby girl you loved and the father you adored.
John had treated you like a second child, ensuring you were taken care of. Car looked after, money in your account, Wren and your needs taken care of. You didn’t get a lot of time off, but when you did, you were seldom wanting to leave the house or the city.
You would miss Wren too much.
And you knew you would be missed too.
………………..
Setting the shot glass down after slamming it back, there were tears in your eyes, the alcohol’s harsh burn scorching your throat all the way to your tummy, a line of warmth flowing through your chest as you wiped your mouth and looked for a chaser on the table.
Finding your Jack and Coke, you drank it to rid the taste of straight vodka from your mouth as you swished the sweet liquid around before swallowing it.
The other girls at your booth noticed and laughed at your inability to handle the acrid taste.
“Jesus, you don’t get out much anymore, do you?”
The comment was thrown to you by Cassandra, one of the girls you were not fond of, and she made sure she used every chance she could to insult you no matter how small or cutting, the barb still stung.
“What gave me away?” You joked lightly as you took another sip of your mixed drink.
Cassandra tapped her black credit card on the table, her long acrylic nails a death knell to your sanity as she began to tap the table from pinky to index, the taps an uncomfortable noise among the sounds of the music of the bar, the noise of the patrons behind you, the laughter across the room, the sound of the blender from the bar, and from the smacking of Julia’s lips as she chewed her wad of gum.
Cassandra seemed to hone in on your discomfort and chuckled without mirth, “that you can’t keep up since becoming a Stepford wife.”
You nearly sputtered and you looked at her directly, green eyes shining with what you knew was envy.
“I’m not a Stepford wife.” You assured the table, “I’m a nanny; I love what I do.”
“So you’ve given up on your degree and are now taking care of a kid who isn’t even yours and in a few years’ time the parents will drop you because their precious child can take care of themselves? Seems like a great use of your degree…more like a waste of your twenties. You’re nearly halfway through and have babysitter on your resume.”
The comment hit you like a train, and you felt a thickening in the back of your throat. You knew you had quite a few years until Wren was old enough to begin to take care of herself, but the thought of not being in her or John’s life scared you.
They were all you had.
Sensing she hit the mark, she shrugged, “but what do I know? I’m just some nine-to-fiver.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that. There’s nothing wrong with any of our jobs.” You tried to alleviate the tension and be the bigger person but feeling slighted that no one was speaking up on your behalf.
Needing a break for your sanity, you slid from the booth, “I’m going to use the washroom, I’ll be back.”
The others, Julia, Margaret, and Olivia merely nodded their confirmation that they did hear you over the laughing across the room.
Fiddling with your long sleeve sweater, you thumbed the heart shaped necklace Wren had picked out with you when you had taken her shopping a few days prior to meeting up with some friends. John was at home with her, and you knew she was wearing hers.
Avoiding the sticky trail to the bathroom, you opened the back door of the bar and stepped out for some air.
You were alone with your thoughts for a few minutes before a man with an umber complexion wearing a baseball cap emerged from the bar, frowning at you and opening his mouth to speak.
You recognized him as the man from the booth behind you. He was sitting with another man with a freshly cut mohawk and man with a black cloth mask on his face. You weren’t sure why he was speaking to you, but you listened as he spoke, his voice low but no less kind as he explained.
“We don’t know one another, but I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night without telling you that those people at that table are not your friends.”
You had a sinking feeling that emerged in your tummy, roiling along with the alcohol you had consumed at what he was implying.
You tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear and felt your neck warm as you explained, “I had a feeling. I speak to them like twice a year…and won’t be after this. I’ve been drifting for a while; this just really makes the decision easier.”
The man’s dark eyes were shining in the halo of light from above the exit door.
Wearing blue jeans, a pair of trainers, an open button-up shirt with a white tee underneath, he looked comfortable and relaxed with his baseball cap. Not dressed to impress anyone, you felt at ease in his presence, sensing nothing but concern radiating from him at the thought of you going back to the table without a warning of what they were saying.
“I appreciate you letting me know. I wanted to throw my drink at one of them and I knew I needed a minute.”
“Our table wanted to throw a drink at her, don’t worry, you’re not alone.”
At his honesty you laughed and shook your head, “yeah, that makes sense, I’m getting out of here. I have better things to do than spend time with old uni acquaintances.”
The man held the door open for you and gave you a smile that you swore could have stopped your heart. His hand gently touched your shoulder to lead you back to the main hallway as you were going the wrong way.
“Oh, I have everything I need, I’m just going to leave.” You explained with a shrug.
Noting the lack of a coat and lack of a purse, you explained, “I bought my own drinks, my bill is paid, I have my cards in my pocket.”
He frowned and concern flickered in his eyes, “you didn’t bring a jacket?”
You looked sheepishly at him, “my jacket was stolen last time I brought it on a night out. I’ll be alright, I’m probably going to book an Uber after I head out.”
“You’re going to wait outside in the cold?”
You shook your head, “I’m going to a better pub down the street and getting a real drink and a plate of chips before going home.”
He tilted his head, “it’s getting a little loud for our group in there, mind some company?”
……………….
Sitting in front of a plate of hot crisp chips and a proper stout, you were across from the man who had introduced himself as Kyle and his friend John, and another man who you weren’t introduced to but said hi to anyway.
You weren’t bothered by the third man not having a name. You had your ankles crossed under the table and had your phone faceup on the table, the texts from the others rolling in until you began to systematically block each one after Kyle and John informed you of what was said when you left.
You chuckled as you bit into a chip, “I’m not surprised. I know they’re all rooming in one townhouse together; it was bound to happen.”
“You were expecting them to shit on you?” The man with the cloth mask asked with a thick Manchester accent, the first thing he said all evening to you.
You shrugged, “I think they’re unhappy and have nothing else to talk about. It’s easy to discuss other people’s issues without addressing your own. Besides, they’re probably all doing it to one another when the third isn’t in the room. I didn’t focus on it earlier while I was in school because I was busy with the same job. But I tried to be amicable and keep in touch, but I really don’t need enemies when I have ‘friends’ like that.”
You observed his eyes flickering with mirth at your explanation and you pushed the plate of chips in the middle of the table.
“You guys have some, I forgot how much they pile on here.” You said as you took another sip of your stout.
John took you up on that offer and grabbed a few as he questioned you, “so ye wen’ to meet them knowing they were shite?”
You scoffed at the blunt question but were honest with them all knowing they were all listening, their hands poised over their lagers, thick droplets of condensation falling onto the paper coasters.
“I mean, I haven’t had a night off in weeks. I knew I was going to head out early and have a drink on my own. I really don’t like that bar anyway. I didn’t think it would end that fast, but I’m happier here and with better company.”
You were having a good time, that wasn’t a fabrication.
“So not a complete waste of time.” Kyle surmised as he picked up his own glass and took a swig.
You noted that you got another text from a number you hadn’t blocked. Seeing the tag emoji, you felt lighter every time you got a text from John. Using the price tag emoji had been a joke that had been long running.
Looking to see what the message was, he was just checking in, something he did frequently when you were having a late night.
Sending a quick text back that everything was going well, you set your phone back down.
You looked to Kyle and John who were eyeing the dartboard in the corner.
You cleared your throat, “Shelly won’t mind if you ask for the darts.”
Upon your advice, Kyle sauntered to the bar while John trailed behind him. Left alone with the stranger at the table, you noted he was stiff.
“You okay?” You asked softly and in a non-judgmental tone.
He raised a brow at you, but you kept your nonchalant attitude, and he narrowed his eyes.
“Work injuries. Ain’t as young as I used to be.”
You could empathize with that, “I tried chasing a kid the other day and I thought I was actually dying; she has more energy than I’ll ever have.”
“Kiddo’s faster than you? You might be dying.” He said with a deadpan delivery, and you snickered.
“Yeah, I need to hit the gym again while she’s at school. Gotta keep up with her or she’s going to outrun me at the playground.”
You drank to that and ordered another stout from Shelly who came around and gave you a warm smile.
Returning the gesture, you were looking to the men at the dartboard, and were genuine when you said to the man beside you, “level with me, did I interrupt a guy’s night?”
The man looked to the two others he had accompanied and shook his head at you, “if you had I would have scared you off by now.”
You believed he could. He was an imposing figure. Nearly as tall and as wide as the door, he wore a thick black hoodie that was drawn up, dark jeans and black combat boots. If he wanted to scare you, he could easily.
Somehow you doubted he would.
“You could, but I don’t think you’d do it.” You guessed as you drank your stout.
He raised a brow, and you shrugged, “you’d Irish exit and have Kyle and John follow you out. I don’t think you’d scare someone who didn’t deserve it.”
He narrowed his eyes at you once more but didn’t comment.
“I’m going to have my head in my phone for the next few minutes if you want to take a drink of your beer. I won’t look up.” You assured him.
If he seemed surprised by your offer, he didn’t say but you knew by his hand movements that he had moved his mask from behind his ear and drank a hefty sip of his beer and took a few of the chips from the plate.
Responding to Mr. Price, you wrote out a text.
Probably going to head back within the hour. Tonight was a bit of a bust, much rather hang out with you and Wren
You didn’t have to wait long for a reply.
I’m sorry your night isn’t going how you planned, Bunny. Tell me about it when you get home.
Responding that you would, you checked your emails, scanned your bank app, began blocking all your so-called friends on the minimal social media you did have, and blocked them from your LinkedIn and email.
You knew a few minutes had passed and the man in front of you tapped the table capturing your attention. Seeing the empty glass, you gave a smile.
“Good to see you had it while it was still cold.”
Before he could utter a response, Kyle was returning with a sheepish looking John.
“Dinnae ken how, but Garrick’s cheating.” John lamented.
Not able to help the chuckle that escaped your lips, you drank your stout as John looked at you betrayed.
“You dinnae believe me, bonnie?”
You shook your head with a smirk as you drank the rest of your beer.
Checking the time and seeing as though you had more than a few drinks, you knew you should be heading out soon. Knowing you were going to be a sport and pay their small tab; you were about to say goodnight when you saw the girls you had ditched walking by the pub all laughing with one another and clutching their purses.
“Shit.” You cursed as you tilted your head.
Sensing your problem, the unnamed man was quick to push you further into the booth to shield you, switching from his seat to beside you without warning. Placing a hand on your shoulder, he pushed you on the leather, so you were sitting straight up without slouching. You were tempted to look by moving your head forward and almost did until his pinky finger pushed against your chin and he disapprovingly shook his head subtly.
Kyle and John were sitting with their periphery on the girls walking by. As soon as it was clear, the man moved his scarred hand from your shoulder and moved several inches away from you.
“Thanks, Cassandra’s the confrontational type.” You informed.
“The blonde with the stripper heels?” John asked with all seriousness.
You snickered, “that’s an affront to strippers, they’re much nicer. But yeah, that’s Cassandra. I’m not surprised she’s upset with me.”
“Why does she hate ye so much?” John asked curiously.
You shrugged, “I think it’s because they wanted me to fill a spot in a larger townhouse in a nicer part of town, but because my job offered me room and board I didn’t end up signing on. I gave them months and months of notice that I wasn’t going to move in with them, but Cassandra has treated me differently since because she couldn’t sign onto the nicer house. I think that’s the only reasonable explanation.”
You needed to know, “what exactly did she say?”
Kyle frowned as he sipped from his lager while John winced. Knowing you weren’t going to get straight answers out of them you turned your attention to the man beside you.
“Level with me, what did they say?”
The man raised a brow, and you nodded encouragingly while Kyle looked down at the empty plate that held the chips while John looked to the dartboard.
“That you’re just some American slag that slept her way into keeping a job by acting like a glorified wife but having no job protection when the kid gets older.”
You had to admit, that hurt, but you asked to hear it. Nodding and looking to your phone, you were grateful you had blocked their numbers.
“Damn, she really didn’t hold anything back.” You chuckled but it didn’t meet your eyes.
“There’s a bit more.” The man admitted in a low voice, “it’s quite personal.”
You stiffened, that could only mean, “she talked about my parents?”
The table went deathly silent, and you sucked in a breath, “yeah, I figured that wasn’t off the table for her.”
“I’m sorry.” Kyle said with sincerity, his eyes shining with regret, “that shouldn’t have been brought up and I’m sorry that we overheard it.”
You didn’t know what to say to that. You were furious with Cassandra for bringing it up. You knew that you had told Julia in confidence why you had left to pursue an education overseas and how difficult it had been to sever ties with family. Julia telling Cassandra was too abominable to truly put into words.
The abuse and the emancipation was a stark reminder that terrible people existed and despite the blood relation, they didn’t curb their behaviour or opt to work through their problems, instead choosing to hurt you.
“Hell of an introduction to a person you just met.” You tried to joke but it fell flat.
The man beside you was honest, his baritone comforting, “you were strong enough to leave at a young age, it speaks more to your ability than anything she could do if she were in your position.”
The words dripped with a genuineness you didn’t expect. You hadn’t even told Mr. Price but you knew he had suspected but had never asked you about your past unless you offered the information. The conversation was a landmine neither of you were going to leave No Man’s Land for.
“I hope her favourite heels break.” You muttered before you could stop herself.
John snickered from across the table, “I hope the doctor botches her Botox. Nae could see her forehead move.”
You couldn’t contain the laugh, clapping a hand over your mouth and shaking your head.
“Oh ye could tell she’s had too much work done.” John continued, “face like a doughy pillow, that one.”
“She looks forty.” Kyle added with a small smirk, his eyes shining as he realized you were laughing genuinely.
You coughed trying to reign in the laugh, “she’s my age. She’s twenty-four.”
“You look twenty-four. She looks like a terrible real estate agent. Who wears business casual to a bar?” Kyle asked the table.
“Definitely not the demographic she’s trying to cater to.” The unnamed man said with a shake of his head.
You rolled your eyes, “she’s always been career focused. She’s very proud of her financial success and her degree. I mean, yeah, it’s great. She’s successful but she hasn’t maintained friendships beyond a few years, she doesn’t have anyone in her life that isn’t fair-weather, her parents may speak to her, but she’s too busy for her family. I know her family better than she does.”
“She has it against stay-at-home mothers.” John said with a shake of his head.
You let out a huff, “because it’s not officially work she doesn’t view it as something worth pursuing. Don’t get me wrong, she has valid points about being concerned about financial dependency and being stuck in some awful situations, but she doesn’t recognize that it’s still a legitimate thing to do.”
“Fuck ‘er.” The man beside you said calmly as you hooked a stray piece of hair behind your ear.
You gave a nod and looked to the bar to see Shelly give you a tilt of her head. The men followed your gaze, and you gestured to the end of the booth beyond where you were currently trapped.
“Mind letting me out?” You asked.
The man rose to his feet without a word, and you walked to the bar to see Shelly, her thick blonde hair confined to a high ponytail. Her lips were lined with a sheen of gloss and reading glasses on her face as she was looking over receipts.
“Hey Shelly.” You greeted as you reached for your card.
Shelly gazed to the men at the table, “I haven’t seen them before, friends of yours?”
You shrugged, “maybe, I just met them all an hour ago.”
Shelly gave you a disbelieving stare, “you sure get into some strange situations, Bunny.”
You sighed, “don’t I know it, Shelly.”
Shelly looked to your credit card and to the table, “we feelin’ generous today?”
“What’s the damage?” You questioned.
Shelly looked to the table, “few beers, three of your stouts, plate of chips, eighty-eight dollars, sweetling.”
“Take thirty for yourself.” You offered up your card and she took it, working the card reader herself.
“They look like a pretty normal group, ‘cept for that big one. Terrifying giant of a man. The pretty boy in the baseball cap’s been making goo-goo eyes at you all night.”
You snickered, “Jesus. Goo-goo eyes, what are we Shelly, eight-year-olds?”
Shelly chuckled, “the old man is back in town, eh?”
You knew she was referring to Mr. Price and you nodded, “Wren’s happy to see her dad.”
Shelly cupped your shoulder and gave you a stern look, “she’s in great hands with you and him. Good on you for sticking it out, I know you were scared for a bit, but you’ve done great.”
You needed to hear that, “thanks Shelly.”
She looked at the clock and to you, “go on home, sweetling, nothing good ever happens this late at night.”
Heeding the warning, you gave her a nod as you pulled your card back and pocketed it. Giving her one last smile, you chuckled as she crossed the bar to hug you and cradle your head to her shoulder.
“It’s good to see you again.”
“You too.”
Returning to the table to say goodbye, you were booking your ride home as you uttered a quick goodbye.
“I’ve gotta run, but thanks for making my night not shit.” You announced to them all as you heard your phone ding.
Seeing your rideshare arrive, you turned on your heel giving one last wave while Kyle looked as though he wanted to say something.
Giving him an apologetic smile as you entered the car that had picked you up remarkably fast, you shut the door, hidden from view as you rested your head against the seat after buckling yourself in.
……………………..
The men were sitting in the booth when they looked to their lieutenant who was still nursing a fresh beer in front of him on a paper coaster.
“What?” He grumbled.
John shook his head, “I cannae believe ye told her everything that girl said.”
Simon shrugged his shoulders, “she deserved to know. She ain’t glass, she’s steady. Deserves to know what was being said behind her back.”
Kyle merely sighed and looked to the car that was fading in the distance.
“I didn’t grab her number.” Kyle frowned at the table.
John pushed his phone towards him, “that’s her profile on Instagram. I saw that witch trying to criticize her pictures she posted. You have a way of contacting her.”
“Christ Soap.” Kyle breathed as he grabbed his phone and began looking her up on his own.
“She’s a pretty bird.” Simon commented, “nice too.”
“Oi, I’m grabbing the bill.” Soap announced as he rose to his feet.
Simon watched as he made his way over to the bartender who had given the bird a hug and what looked like a stern talking to. Seeing her crack a smile at his sergeant, he watched as Soap tilted his head, his lips out of view. Not being able to tell what was said, Simon watched as Soap returned, not having taken his card out.
Soap clapped a hand on Kyle’s shoulder shaking him out of his social media induced stupor.
“Huh?” Kyle turned his head towards Soap’s wide grin.
“Yer girl paid our bill. Ye gotta message her and thank her now.”
“We’re still tippin the bartender on our way out.” Simon warned.
Soap rolled his eyes, “I wasnae gonna leave without givin’ the barmaid a tip, ye numpty.”
…………………
You were unlocking the door to the main entrance when the door opened abruptly, your hand falling from the keychain as John looked at you and your lack of a coat.
“Christ Bunny, where’s your coat?” John scolded as he ushered you inside and into the warm hallway.
Slipping out of your shoes, you held your arms around your chest trying to maintain a semblance of warmth.
“S-sorry, my coat got stolen last time I brought it.” You could feel your teeth begin to chatter while John was leading you to the couch.
Setting a blanket on you, John warned you to stay put.
Swallowing while waiting for him to return, you felt your eyes grow heavy. Nearly jolting upright at the sudden appearance by your side, you glanced at the hot ceramic against your hand.
Not wanting to burn yourself, you gently twisted your fingers around the handle.
Giving a soft thank you, you knew it was a cup of chamomile tea without having to ask. Taking small sips of the perfectly sweetened tea, you observed John as he sat on the opposite couch watching you drink your hot beverage.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?”
His voice was of concern rather than curiosity. You knew if you said no it would be the end of the conversation, but you weren’t going to hide anything.
You sighed and left the mug between your hands to warm them, “the group I was meeting were uni friends. I don’t see them often and when I do it’s like walking on eggshells around them. I never used to be afraid of saying the wrong thing to friends before I met them. They were the group I was supposed to live with in my second year, but you know how much notice they had that I wasn’t going to live with them.”
John was listening patiently as you took another sip of the tea he had set in your hand. Gently setting it down on a coaster on the table, you continued speaking after readjusting the blanket over your body.
“I sat down and one of the girls just dug in that I couldn’t handle drinking…I can. I just don’t like straight shots of alcohol. She said that she knows I don’t get out much. I do. I just have better company.” You looked to the staircase where you knew Wren was sleeping in her room.
Your eyes snapped back to John, and you were honest, “they don’t approve of what I do. But I don’t need their approval or validation. I got up to get some air because I knew I was losing my patience. I left for a few minutes and a guy from the table behind us overheard what they were saying and came out to tell me that they weren’t my friends. I knew it already…but I just met up with them just to say I did. More out of an obligation than actually wanting to go. When I was warned by that guy about how they were speaking about me, I just left. I had already made sure my bill was taken care of, so I just walked out. I went to another pub, had a proper drink and a plate of chips and was none the wiser.”
You grabbed the mug once more and took a steady sip as John listened to you speak.
“Something is still under your skin.” He knew.
Sighing at how well he could see you and your tells, you frowned, “before I got up from the table, the same girl implied that I wasted my degree and that in a few years when Wren’s old enough I’m not going to have a job and that I wasted my twenties.”
John tilted his head, his brow furrowed and his jaw tight as he shook his head angrily, not at you but on your behalf.
“Bunny, listen to me. You could tell me you don’t want to look after Wren anymore, I wouldn’t kick you out to the street. I know you love her, and I know she loves and adores you. You’d never want to quit, but even if you did, you still have a place here as long as you want it. You’re family, sweetheart.”
Not able to handle this conversation without feeling tears well in your eyes, you quickly brought your hands to your face and wiped under your eyes.
“Oh, sweetheart.” John cooed as he rose to his feet.
Throwing the blanket off you, you met his embrace and sniffled in his chest, the warmth radiating from his body more comforting than any blanket you could have. Arms wrapping around you, you rested your head against him knowing that he meant every single word.
“None of this, now. Please don’t cry. You know how important you are to Wren and to me. Shhh…”
Holding your sobs at bay, you breathed through your nose and exhaled through your mouth as you willed yourself to relax and calm down.
Feeling his hand rubbing your back, you closed your eyes and sniffed as he didn’t let go.
You knew the deal; he would never end the hug unless you let go first.