Chasing Shade Part 18

'I just don't want you to think that...' She shrugged.

'That you're human? That this has gone fast? That there's a lot of other stress most people wouldn't have?' He laughed.

She laughed with him but a single tear ran down her cheek.

'Salisbury steak,' he said.

'What?'

'That's what I'd like, lovely waitress. Salisbury steak. It will counteract the turkey Thursday.' He felt nervous for a heartbeat. Swallowed hard against it. 'I'm coming here for Thanksgiving. Charlie told me about it. With the orphans. Is that OK?'

'Oh, Archie,' she sighed. There was a tiny sob buried in that sigh. 'Of course it's OK. I was going to ask you if you'd be my date. I just need one night. To think. I've been alone for so long, I think being...with someone scares me right now. Not enough to make me run. But enough to...' Another shrug.

'Enough to need a breather. I get it. And I'm fine. But if I'm your date, I need to make sure I spiff myself up. Don't want to embarra.s.s my girl.'

Betsey laughed. It seemed genuine so he let himself relax. He ate his Salisbury steak but hardly tasted it at all.

Chapter 22.

She hadn't wanted him to come because she felt all twisted up. She was bad for Archie, Betsey was pretty sure. He'd escaped a stressful, drama-filled life. And now he was falling a.s.s backwards into hers.

She dropped her keys in the bowl and fingered the folded piece of paper sitting on the table next to it. It had been tucked in her door jamb when they'd returned from the city.

Please, reconsider, Betsey. I'm running out of time. I know you don't owe us anything, but none of the other women have contested our request. He would be electronically monitored. They say he has maybe a few weeks left. I need closure. It's unfair of me to ask...

Then: But you're my last hope.

None of the other women had fought the request of the family to release Miller. All the women who had actually spent time down there in that f.u.c.king room, chained to that f.u.c.king wall, eating out of that f.u.c.king...trough.

How was it possible that they'd all be OK with this? How was that even conceivable?

But somehow it was. Betsey believed Marie. She seemed genuine. And, for whatever reason, she had wanted time with her father before he died.

Did she have daughters? Would she worry about him there if she did?

Betsey wished for a drink. It happened less and less but, when it did, it rocked her.

She took a shaky breath and began to a.s.semble a small meal. Tony had offered her dinner, but she hadn't wanted any. Not even his Monday-night nachos with homemade cheese sauce. What she had wanted was to work to have an excuse not to see Archie. So she could think.

'So you're alone,' she muttered, putting sliced cheddar on an old pink plate from the thrift store. It had a single cherry painted on the rim. It had made her happy, so she'd bought it. None of her dishes matched, none of her stuff in general matched; it was how she liked it. A mismatched, cobbled-together life. A threadbare but comforting existence. There was no room for playing house in that scenario, right?

How could he be with a woman who broke out in a sweat when she was near a cul de sac? Or ran to the opposite side of the street if a car she did not know slowed near her and spooked her? The nightmares that would stop for a time and then reappear fiercer than ever. Baring their claws and their teeth. Taking her down emotionally to the place of a young, terrified girl.

That was no life for Archie. He deserved that happy scenario everyone visualised. Wife, nice house, two-point-whatever kids. Not her. Not the person who felt as if she were constantly putting herself back together with glue and duct tape.

She heard herself sob softly and shook it off. 'Don't mourn what you never could have had in the first place,' she hissed. Suddenly so angry with herself that the mere thought of eating turned her stomach. But she kept going. Washing and drying a small clump of green grapes to go with her cheese. Locating a small tin of crackers to lay on the plate beside them. The act of preparing the meal was keeping her from spinning out of control emotionally, and she knew it.

She turned on a sitcom and sat eating her meagre dinner, not watching her stupid show. She shut her eyes and remembered that bas.e.m.e.nt. The dread that had seemed to soak through every cell of her body. But the warmth and comfort that came from Archie being there with her.

If she was selfish, she'd let him love her. If she was more selfish, she'd tell him that she loved him too.

Her phone buzzed and she knew it had to be him. She ignored it, hit the main light in the trailer as if she'd gone to bed. She sat there in the flickering wash of light from the small TV and ate a few grapes.

Then she took a shower and went to bed.

It was after her shift that she finally made up her mind. Archie didn't show for lunch. She wasn't sure if it was due to a work emergency or to give her s.p.a.ce. But she found herself relieved. She had to find herself a ride and then she could The thought was cut off by the diner door opening.

'Speak of the devil and he shall appear,' Mrs Kline said.

'I didn't speak of him,' Betsey said.

'No. But you were thinking about him. A blind man could have seen that.' The older woman winked at her. 'How about topping off my coffee before riding off with your prince.'

'He's not my prince,' Betsey said.

Mrs Kline c.o.c.ked her head. 'Since when?'

'He never was.'

'Could have fooled me. All of us, in fact.'

He sat at a table and smiled at her. Betsey moved towards Archie but her feet felt heavy with dread. 'Hi,' she said, pad and pen out.

'Hi, there, stranger. How are you?'

'Good.'

Archie studied her, bright-blue eyes really watching her face. 'Are you sure, Betsey?'

'Yes,' she said, but she felt herself shaking her head no. She wasn't very good at lying to him, it seemed.

He laughed. 'Your voice is saying yes but your head is saying no. Which is it?'

She shrugged. Betsey felt on the verge of crying and realised how mortified she'd be if that happened. 'I don't know, Archie,' she said. 'What can I get you?'

'Burger, medium rare, and fries. And an answer to this question.'

She looked at him, tapping the pen on the pad. 'What question?'

'Did I do something, Betsey?'

'Nope. I am just...' She shook her head. 'Bad for you, probably.'

His mouth dropped open just a little. 'Are you serious?'

'Yes.'

'You're wrong.'

'I doubt it. I'll get your burger.' She hurried off before he could be nice and change her mind and convince her that ruining his life would be a good thing.

'You're letting bad things in your head lie to you,' Mrs Kline said as Betsey rushed past.

'Not now,' Betsey said, swallowing hard against tears. She'd place his order and get her s.h.i.t together. It was shameful, she thought, hiding in the kitchen this way, until Tony laughed and nodded to the order window.

There was Archie, looking in at her. 'Come talk to me, Bets.'

'I can't.' A single tear. d.a.m.n it.

'You can. Just come talk to me.'

'I'll bring the burger,' Tony said. He looked at her standing frozen like a deer in headlights. 'Go on, Betsey. You're so strong. Don't let s.h.i.t get the better of you now. Not because you're scared.'

'I'm not scared.'

'The h.e.l.l you aren't. Go.'

She picked her fingernail. 'Who made you Dr Phil?'

'I was supposed to be,' he said, flipping Archie's burger.

She laughed.

'No. Seriously,' he said. His dark-grey eyes looked sad. 'Know what happened?'

'No. What?'

'I got scared. And I ran away. Figured I'd have time to decide or change my mind...but the money fell through and I never got that shot again to go back to school. Now I ask, "Do you want fries with that?" instead of "How does that make you feel?"'

He was serious. Betsey's heart plummeted. 'Oh, I'm sorry. Really sorry.'

He gave her a meaningful look and shooed her with a flip of his hand. 'Don't be. I have a good life. But you...don't make my mistake. Go talk to that lovesick boy.'

Betsey slid into the booth across from Archie. 'Burger and fries.'

'Tell me,' he said and bit into his burger.

She looked at him. She realised he was her closest ally in life. She trusted him. Even if she thought that being with her would be a huge mistake on his part, she wanted to confide in Archie.

'I want to go see him,' she said. She took the salt and pepper shakers and banged them together softly. The clack-clack-clack soothed her a little. Archie finally put a hand on her to stop her.

'Miller?'

'Yes. I want to go see him. And just...see him. Figure out why the other women haven't objected.'

'They haven't?'

'No. They haven't. We all had a chance and I did. They did not.'

Archie shrugged. 'Does it matter, what they do or don't do?'

'Yes. Why, if the women who were actually held by this man aren't objecting, am I?'

'Because you're Betsey and you have your own life, memories, fears.'

'I want to get over it, Archie. If I can. He'll be dead soon. And that's what I hold close. He'll be dead soon. That f.u.c.king monster will be gone from this earth and I will not have been the person who kept his family from getting their closure. Or their time with him. Whatever it is they need.'

He ate a fry. 'I understand what you're feeling. On some level.' He shook his head. 'I'm not implying I have any concept of what you've been through in your life.'

'I know,' she said. She stole a French fry and Archie smiled at her.

'But I meant you should honour how you feel. And not belittle yourself for it or talk yourself out of it or blow it off. You're allowed to feel however you feel.' He knocked his knee against hers under the table.

Betsey swallowed to prevent the tears that wanted to come. 'I know. But, more than any of that, I want it over. I want to put it to bed for good. I think that will truly happen when he dies. Not that I won't be afraid more than a lot of people for the rest of my life. But I will feel like the monster is dead once...the monster is dead.'

'So you want to go to the jail.'

'Yes. He asked, years ago, that I be put on the list as a visitor. I told the jail to take it off but they said they can't control the list. That I was on the list and if I didn't want to come, then the way to handle that was to never come. Which is what I've done.'

'But now...' He coughed.

Betsey laughed, got up and poured him an iced tea with extra lemon. 'Sorry. Forgot to ask you if you wanted a drink.'

Archie winked at her. 'No worries.'

'But now,' she said, picking up where they'd left off, 'I want to go and see him. Maybe he'll be less scary if I'm sitting there, looking at him. Me a free woman who has gone on with her life, him a shackled prisoner with lung cancer who's about to die. I want to free myself from this s.h.i.t,' she said. Now her eyes shimmered with tears because, as she explained it, she realised how very important it was to her.

Archie took three big swallows of iced tea. 'So you want to go see him.'

'Yes.'

'Then I'll take you.'

'You don't have to.'

'I know that. I want to.'

'But '

'But nothing. Do you want a ride?'