If she tore it up, every time the utilities got turned off, every time Carley and she sat down for peanut butter tortillas because that was the only thing in the cupboards, she would berate herself for turning such a payment away. She’d chastise herself when her car broke down, or when she couldn’t pull quite enough together to pay rent.
She wanted to think of it as a gift but she’d had sex with him, for Christ sakes. It was a payment.
How could he do this to her?
Did he expect a thank you note from her? Was she now indebted to him?
Had she become some sort of tax deduction? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!
She stuffed the check into her apron and returned to the bar. She didn’t know what the hell to do with it.
She couldn’t cash it.
She couldn’t destroy it.
Fuck!
Two older men, somewhat resembling truck drivers, bellied up to the bar. “What can I get you tonight?”
“How much for those?” The stockier of the two leered at her chest.
Noel turned her back to them and wanted to cry. She could deal with this. She could!
Elliot entered hispassword and pulled up his account balance. She still hadn’t cashed the check.
He’d been home three weeks now. Two weeks and six days, to be exact.
Ellen was doing better this time, or so she told him, and his dad said he might go visit her.
Other than that, everything was the same. The same black and white existence he’d not realized he endured.
Exactly the same as before he left.
Her words, spoken so casually, echoed in his memory. “Why aren’t you happy, Elliot?” Cause he had everything he needed, everything a man could possibly want, and yet he felt empty. Maybe he’d been empty all along.
Why hadn’t she cashed the damn check?
Tapping his fingers on his thigh, he reached for his phone and pulled up her number. Screw this.
He hit call.
One ring, two, three, and then a little crackling and “This is Noel Blake?” She spoke in a question, obviously not recognizing his number.
“How come you haven’t cashed my check?”
Nothing. “Noel? Are you there?”
“I am,” Finally. “I just didn’t expect– What do you mean, how come I haven’t cashed your check? Why the hell did you write it? That’s what I’d like to know!” Just hearing her voice warmed his blood.
“I asked first. Why haven’t you cashed it?” And then, god damnit. “You did get it right?”
“Of course, I got it.” She sounded angry. Elliot glanced at his watch. It was ten minutes to four in Colorado right now.
“Are you driving?” He didn’t want to distract her if she was maneuvering some god-awful mountain road.
“No, it’s my night off. I’m at home.”
He’d never seen her at home. “What are you wearing?” And then he couldn’t believe he’d asked her that.
