The Dollhouse (22 page)

He winked at me. "What kind of knight in shining armor would I be if I couldn't at least do that?”

I walked around the car to climb into the passenger seat and Zach got in as well, settling into the cracked leather. "I hope we aren't taking you away from anything. You weren't busy, were you."

"Actually, I was on a really hot date with a beautiful girl when you called, so I hope you appreciate me coming all the way over here."

"Really? I'm sorry—“ I caught the amused look on his face and stopped. "And you're just messing with me."

"Yeah, I was sitting at home playing video games when you called." He started the car and the engine made a loud grinding noise before turning over. He navigated into traffic, the streetlights casting moving patterns on his face. "The last hot date I had was with you. I'm sure you remember how that turned out."

I felt my face redden and turned to look out the window. "Sorry."

"I was a little surprised when you called." He glanced over at me before returning his attention to the road ahead of us. "You pretty much fell of the map."

"I've been working."

"That's what Miranda said when I stopped by the diner to see if I could catch you." He cleared his throat. "But you're back now?"

"I came back because my mom's sick." I glanced at Lucy but she was playing with an action figure that she'd found in the backseat and wasn't paying any attention. "But it looks like I'm probably back for good."

"You don't make that sound like good news."

"It is what it is. I'm just back to where I started." I touched my stomach and shuddered, thinking that it would be great if I was just back where I started instead of a hundred steps further behind.

"Are you okay?" Zach asked, noticing the movement.

"I'm fine.” I forced my voice into something that could pass for normal. "I'm just tired. I haven't slept since the night before last."

"Ouch," he said cheerfully. "Well, let's get you home."

We drove in companionable silence, broken only when I gave him murmured directions.

Lucy was asleep in the back and I groaned at the thought of having to carry her up two flights of stairs.

"Let me help you get her upstairs," he said, following my gaze. "You look completely wrecked."

I casted him a grateful smile. "Thanks."

Zach wrapped Lucy in his leather jacket and carefully maneuvered her out of the car until she was cradled in his arms. He followed me up the stairs and to the door of our apartment, where I fumbled with the keys in the dark hallway outside our door.

I cringed when I opened the door and saw the mess of clothes scattered over the living room and the stack of dishes in the sink. "Please ignore the mess."

"It's all good." He followed my gesture and took Lucy to the back bedroom to put her down in the bed.

Kicking off my shoes, I collapsed onto the couch and pushed aside a pile of my brother's video game magazines so there was enough space to sit. My body was exhausted beyond imagining but my mind was moving a mile a minute and I knew there was no chance of falling asleep any time soon.

Zach came back into the living room and gingerly sat on the couch next to me. "Is it just the two of you guys here?"

I raised my eyebrows at him. "You're really taking this knight in shining armor thing seriously, huh?"

"I'm just a little worried about leaving you home like this with your sister in the middle of the night. What if something happens?"

"We'll be fine."

"Okay, well the most important question is if I stop by tomorrow, will you be here or in France?"

I laughed, unable to resist the deadpan look on his face. "I'm not planning anymore disappearing acts, if that's what you mean."

"That's a relief. I was wondering when you were gonna give me that second date that you owe me."

I tilted my head to the side and regarded him. "Oh, I owe you a second date."

"It's part of the rules. When the first date is as much of a disaster as ours was, you pretty much owe a guy a second chance."

"Really?" I asked with a grin, enjoying the banter. Julian and I never bantered. "I must have missed that day in high school when they passed out the dating rulebook."

"I guess so." The grin he threw me was charmingly lopsided. "What do you say? We can even do something normal and boring, like dinner and a movie. Do you like flowers and chocolate?"

"I don't really think that I'm in a good place to be dating," I said hesitantly. I had no intention of revealing the pregnancy to Zach, but at the same time I didn't want to lead him on.

"C'mon, don't give me weak excuses. If you're gonna break my heart, do it like a real women and tell me to leave you alone."

I leaned back against the couch and turned so my cheek rested against the seat back. Our faces were only inches apart. "I don't want you to leave me alone."

He grinned. "Well, that's a start."

"Just don't expect too much from me for the time being, okay.” I said, swallowing back the lump that rose in my throat. "I'm in a weird place right now."

"What a coincidence, I live my life in a weird place."

"So, I see."

He stood and brushed imaginary lint off of his distressed jeans. "I'll even be a gentleman and leave without a kiss, but I'm adding it to your I.O.U."

I laughed, unable to resist his infectious mood. "Whatever you say."

Zach turned to the door and I levered myself off of the couch to let him out. He paused in the doorway and looked back at me, expression suddenly serious.

"Lock the door behind me okay, there's a lot of crazy people out there."

"Yes, sir." I said with a nod, thinking that he was definitely taking the whole knight-in-shining-armor thing as much more than a joke. "I'll put the deadbolt on."

"Can I call you tomorrow?”

"Yeah, that sounds great." I watched him hesitate for a minute and couldn't resist a small smile. "You know you won't be able to see me again, if you don't actually leave at some point."

He grinned. "Deep thoughts, I like it. See you later, princess."

"Bye." I shut the door behind him and tossed the deadbolt like I promised.

I'd forgotten how easily Zach could make me feel good. Where Julian used my own desires to control me, Zach was just happy that I let him be with me at all.

What would have happened if I'd been smart enough to avoid Julian in the first place? Maybe I could have had something real with Zach, instead of the fantasy that quickly turned into a nightmare.

Regret is what you feel when your mistakes refuse to go away.

I
walked
into the diner with a strange feeling. I'd never come into the place without having to be there for work. The month that I'd spent away hadn't done the place any favors. The scratched tables and seats with cracked plastic covering them seemed even more old and faded than they had before I left.

Miranda was behind the counter in her usual spot, leaning over and flipping idly through a celebrity gossip magazine. She looked up when the ding of the bell sounded and a huge smile broke over her features when she saw it was me.

"Girl, I never thought I'd see you walk through that door again."

"I'm not that lucky," I replied pertly. "All good things must come to an end."

She gave me a long once-over, clearly clued into the fact that something about me wasn't quite right, even if she didn't know exactly what.

"Is your mother doing okay?"

"Yeah, I just went to visit her for a little bit after I dropped Lucy off at school. The doctors want to keep her one more night for observation, but she should be able to come home after that."

"That's good news, right."

"Yeah, it's good." I said a little lamely. To be honest, the thought of taking Momma back to that two bedroom apartment where the four of us were basically living on top of each other seemed almost impossible to contemplate after staying with Julian in a house big enough for a dozen families.

And Momma would probably go right back to her old habit of letting me take care of everything while she laid around feeling sorry for herself.

I immediately discarded that uncharitable thought. What was wrong with me? How long was I going to walk around maudlin and depressed before I could put Julian from my mind completely.

For as long as you have his child growing inside of you
, the little evil voice that I was growing to hate said inside of my mind.

I realized suddenly that Miranda was staring at me with a confused look on her face. I must have been lost in my own thoughts for longer than was polite.

“Sorry, Miranda, what did you say?"

She blinked and cleared her throat. "I just asked if you had any plans now that you're back home — work for Berkmore here in the city?"

"Probably not.” I tried to sound flippant and failed miserably. "My boss wasn't super happy when I had to leave all of a sudden to come back home. I don't think they're going to hold the job for me."

"That's too bad," she said, frowning in sympathy. "We're just going to have to find you another once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."

"I don't really see that happening."

Miranda stared at me for a long moment. "Sugar, what is going on with you, really? I've seen you deal with all this stuff with your Mom for over a year now and I've never seen it affect you like this."

"It's not my mom," I replied and then instantly regretted the words because the next thing out of Miranda's mouth would be a question about what actually had me upset. "I'm just sad about losing the job at Berkmore. I'll get over it. Like you said, I'll have other opportunities."

Miranda didn't look convinced. "Are you sure that's it?"

"Definitely." My hands played along the countertop and I traced a scratch in the cheap laminate. "That's it."

"You know," Miranda said, leaning back on her barstool. "Do you remember two years ago when you first started working here and I taught you how to use the deep fryer. I left you alone and you burned out the motor?"

I glanced up at her, confused. "Yeah, so?"

"When I asked you what happened, you fessed up right away. Told me that you hadn't been paying as much attention to what I said as you should have and you set the temperature way too high. You even started crying and said that we could take the cost of the repair out of your first paycheck."

I grimaced at the recollection, remembering that very embarrassing moment vividly. "Of course, I remember. Mr. Valentino spent almost twenty minutes yelling at me."

"That's when I realized we were going to be good friends because I knew right then and there: you were someone who would always tell me the truth."

I stared at her, stricken. "Miranda—“

"C'mon honey, you don't think I've noticed how much you've changed over the last few months. Your mood's been all over the place — one minute happy and the next you've got a bigger attitude than a lion with a thorn stuck in its paw."

"Miranda, please."

"I didn't say anything about it, figured you’d tell me when you were ready and in your own time. But, I have to say something now. I know there are probably things going on in your life that you don't want to talk about with the crazy old lady you work with—“

"You're not old," I broke in, partially because it was true but also hoping to derail her from where I knew she was headed.

"Don't change the subject," she said firmly, but with a sympathetic smile. "If you don't want to confide in me, I get that, but don't blow smoke up my ass."

"You're right," I said. I could feel the carefully erected floodgates that I'd put up between my conscious mind and the crashing waves of emotion were about to come down. Tears burned in my eyes and if she said another word, my face would twist into a sob and all of my secrets would come spilling out. "I'm going to go."

I tried to get away, but she stopped me. Before I could take more than a few steps, Miranda was at my side with her arms around me.

It was more than I could take. Suddenly, I was crying into the scratchy afghan sweater that she always wore, with loud, wracking sobs that shook my entire body.

She rubbed my back and murmured comforting words. "It's okay, baby girl. Whatever it is, it's okay."

"It's not," I said on a sob, my breath coming in little hiccups. "You wouldn't look at me the same way if you knew."

Miranda pulled back to look in my eyes. "So try me."

I stared into her sympathetic face, open and willing to hear whatever I had to say. The face of a person that I'd always been able to turn to when I needed help. And there was so much that I was desperate to share, to find someone who could help me carry the heavy burden.

So I told her. Almost everything — the Dollhouse, Julian's determined pursuit of me, the real reason I'd been offered the job at Berkmore Global and exactly what I'd been doing for the last month.

Miranda listened without comment or even a change in the expression that she kept carefully neutral. When I finally finished the rush of words, my sobs had faded and the tears on my cheeks had dried to salty tracks, she stood back from me with a contemplative look on her face.

"I always thought the Dollhouse was a myth."

I let out a humorless laugh. "It seemed pretty real to me."

"I bet." She cocked her head at me. "All of that is why you thought I'd hate you."

"I thought you'd hate that I let them turn me into a whore."

"Don't you dare say that," she said sharply. "You are not a whore. You were offered an opportunity and you took it, just like plenty of girls would do in your situation. You don't have anything to be ashamed about."

I took the napkin she handed me and noisily blew my nose into it. "Do you really mean that?"

"Girl, please. If I told you about some of the nonsense I got up to when I was your age, you'd realize that this Dollhouse thing is nothing. Just wait until you find yourself hanging by your toes in a Dubai harem with a sheikh trying to decide between you and the camel you rode in on.”

"I wish I thought you were joking," I said with a chuckle. "Thank you for not judging me."

"I'm 54-years-old, working at a diner on the crappy side of town. I only wish a rich man would come by to sweep me off my feet and pay me for the privilege. You've got nothing to be ashamed of."

"Thank you. I really needed to hear that." I collapsed into the bar stool, the momentarily relief at finally having told her outweighed by the reality of my situation. "But what the hell and I supposed to do now?"

The look she cast me was sympathetic. "Does he know that you love him?"

"What makes you think that I love him?"

"Girl," she said drolly. "It is written all over your face how you feel about this man. There's a lot of things that you can hide, but you can't hide that."

"It doesn't matter how I feel," I said, overwhelmed by a wave of sadness. "He doesn't love me and that's all that matters."

She touched my shoulder in a comforting gesture. "I'm so sorry he hurt you like this, but the hurt feelings will fade over time. After a while you'll barely be able to remember his name."

I sincerely doubted that I would forget the name of the man who got me pregnant. But I obviously couldn't tell Miranda that. I didn't want anyone to know about the pregnancy until I had decided exactly what I was going to do about it.

"What are your plans now that you're back?" Miranda asked, obviously clued into the fact that a change of subject was in order. "Are you coming back here to work."

"No," I shook my head vehemently. "I need to keep moving forward, you know. If I just go back to doing what I was doing, I might not ever get another chance to change my life." I realized belatedly that sounded like I thought I was too good to be a waitress here with her. "This place isn't bad, but I need to do something else."

The small smile that quirked in the corner of Miranda's lips said she knew what I was trying to say. "I know how it is, honey. A smart, pretty girl like you needs to be in a place that appreciates all that she has to offer. Hell, I might be heading out right behind you."

I raised my eyes at that. "You're gonna quit the diner?"

Miranda was like a fixture in this place and I couldn't quite imagine it without her. Mr. Valentino, the owner, was never around and practically had her run it for him, not that she got paid enough for all the time that she put in.

"Remember I was telling you about those nursing classes?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

"I'd been putting it off because there's a lot of classes you've got to take as pre..pre weeks.."

"Prerequisites?"

"Yeah, that. It's gonna take me a year of taking stuff like biology and math — basic things like that. So I stopped thinking about it for awhile because that just seems like more than I'd be able to do. But now that you're gone, this place just isn't the same. I think it might be time for me to move on too.”

"I think that's a great idea," I told her solemnly. "We both deserve more than we've been getting."

"And now I'm thinking, now that you're back and the thing with Berkmore didn't work out, that maybe we could take a few of the basic classes together. It'd be a big help to me, definitely. I haven't been in school in more than a decade and I'm not sure I could stick with it without some help."

The expectant look she gave me was so full of hope and encouragement that I wasn't sure how to respond. "I don't know if I can handle going back to school right now. Momma isn't out of the hospital yet and things are chaotic."

"Just one class, just to get our toes wet," she said, her tone prodding. "You already said you're not coming back here and it doesn't sound like you've got another job lined up. I was looking into it and we'd both qualify for some financial aid."

"Miranda..."

"C'mon girl, this is opportunity knocking. Just say yes. What do you have to lose?"

"Okay, fine. One class."

She clapped her hands together. "I'm so excited. This is a new chapter starting for us, baby girl. I can just feel it."

I smiled wanly, unable to share in her joy.
Just tell her,
the voice inside of me urged. But I couldn't do it. Because as laid back as Miranda seemed now, if she knew I was pregnant her reaction would almost certainly change. She wouldn't let me get away with ignoring it.

And she would tell Momma.

"I've got to run," I said. "Let me know about the class stuff."

"Believe me, I will. You're not going to weasel out of this one."

I turned to go and a heaviness settled over me like someone had draped me in something cold and heavy. Dread.

Because I could pretend and ignore it as long as I wanted, but eventually all of the walls I had so carefully erected around myself were going to come crashing down.

* * *

T
he single knock
was so light that I almost missed it. When I opened the door, Zach was standing in the hallway, his hands full with two large brown grocery bags.

"Sorry, I'm late."

"It's okay," I said, gesturing for him to come inside. "We're just getting started."

"Awesome," he said, kicking the door closed behind him.

Momma would be coming home from the hospital today and I had invited Zach over to have dinner with us. Partly because I wanted to se him again — I'd forgotten how relaxing and fun he was to be around — but also to keep a buffer between me and Momma for as long as I could. She wouldn't ask me any awkward or probing questions with a stranger in the house.

"Did you get everything on the list?" I asked Zach as he followed me into the kitchen.

"Pasta, ground beef, onions and mozzarella cheese," he confirmed. "They were having a sale on wine, so I grabbed a bottle. I hope your mom doesn't mind."