“I’m sorry if I’m making you uncomfortable. My therapist tells me to put myself out there a little more, but I’m not sure people actually like me being myself.”
She dips her head, and I find comfort in her being embarrassed, too. Not in a spiteful way, of course, it just makes her easier to relate to.
“You’re fine, I promise. I’m just a little skittish around strangers.”
“I know that feeling.”
“You come to this park a lot? Star and Rebecca seem to be getting along. It might be good for them both to have friends outside of school.”
“Becca usually has a nanny who picks her up from school and keeps hold of her until my brother finishes work. She was sick today, so I came instead.”
“Bummer.”
When we lapse into silence again, it’s more awkward, neither of us knowing what to say to the other.
“Well, I’d better get going. Michael is finishing early today so he can spend some time with Becca. It’s tricky working crazy hours and raising a kiddo alone. He always says there isn’t enough hours in the day.”
“I imagine most working parents feel that way.” Not wanting her to ask me about what I do for work, I slip into another topic before she can speak. “So what does your brother do?”
“He’s a therapist. Not mine, conflict of interest and all that, which I suppose is a blessing in disguise. Who wants to spill all their dark thoughts and secrets to their older brother? Still, he’s one of the best at what he does, so it makes me a little picky trying to find one that fits. God, I’m waffling again, aren’t I? Here.” She reaches into her bag and pulls out a business card. “This is my brother. He just opened a temporary office in the next town over. He has a couple of openings, which is rare for him, but not all his existing clients wanted to travel. If you ever need someone to talk to, I recommend him. Totally unbiased, of course.” She winces, making me laugh.
“I don’t think I’ve met anyone as socially awkward as me. It’s refreshing.”
She blushes before looking back at her niece. “Hey Becca, it’s time to go,” she calls out before looking at me. Something moves over her face, but it’s there and gone so fast, I can’t get a read onit. “It was nice to meet you—Crap, I forgot even to ask you your name.”
I smile. “It’s Citi.”
“Pretty. I’m just boring Lauren.”
“I like the name Lauren. My mom’s best friend growing up was called Lauren. She was always sweet to me.”
Before she can respond, Rebecca runs into her legs. “Do we have to go? I made a new friend.”
“We do, I’m sorry. I think your dad wants to take you out for something to eat.”
“Pizza?”
Lauren laughs. “No idea, but I’d say the odds were in your favor.” She ruffles Becca’s hair before looking at me. “It was nice to meet you, Citi.” She hesitates as she looks from me to Star. “Stay safe.”
As she turns and walks away, her niece’s hand in hers, it dawns on me that she knows who I am. Maybe not at first, but likely when I gave her my name. I look down at the card in my hand. Or perhaps she just sensed how close to the end of my rope I am. It doesn’t take much for one emotionally compromised woman to recognize the same shit in another. I sigh and sit back down, adding the therapist’s name and number to my cell phone before tossing it in the bottom of my bag. I lean back, cross my feet at the ankle, and watch Star. She attempts to build sandcastles in the sandbox, but the sand is too dry for it to work.
I shake my head, waiting to see if she’ll get frustrated and maybe start throwing things, but she never does. Instead, she gets up and brushes the sand off her hands onto her jeans before heading over to me. She climbs into my lap without a word and rests her head on my shoulder.
“You getting tired?”
When we first got rescued—well, the first six months after that—Star tired particularly easily. She wasn’t used to moving around much, even though I tried to keep her active. There was only so much I could do when I was in shackles, so a run around a park was out of the question. She improved a lot over the last eight weeks, though, right up until she started going to school full-time. Now she’s back needing a nap again. I wonder if it’s now more mentally draining than physically demanding.
She shakes her head negatively, making me smile. “So you don’t need a piggyback then, right?”
She lifts her head, a smile in her eyes as she nods rapidly.
“Alright, alright, you’ve twisted my arm.”
I stand her on the bench as I crouch in front of her, my back to her front, and wait as she climbs on. I make sure I have a good grip on her before I stand up, and when we’re good to go, I start the trek across the park to the road. I spot the prospect, leaning against the truck. I’m not familiar with all of them, but if I remember rightly, this one is called Pig. I have no clue why. Something tells me I don’t want to know either.
Pig’s head is down as he reads something on his phone. Just because I can, I walk right past him, and he’s utterly oblivious to me. I huff out a laugh, wondering if I should mention it to Havoc. He’d be pissed for sure. Though I hate being a tattletale, it’s a waste of all our time if the guys aren’t doing their job. I don’t really care about myself as much as I do my daughter. I know how quick and easy it can be to snatch a kid in broad daylight, and that’s with people watching. When someone is so engrossed in something else, like their phone, that’s when we just make a kidnapper’s life ten times easier.
A bus pulls up just as we cross to the opposite side of the road. Even though I could probably make it back home with her on my back if she falls asleep, which is likely, she’ll become harder to keep hold of. With that in mind, I board the bus,tapping my watch to the screen to pay before I head toward an empty seat. It’s pretty quiet, so we don’t have any issues finding one. I pick one in the middle and ease Star down onto it before taking the seat beside her. As the bus starts moving, I look out the window and shake my head, bemused as we pass Pig, who is still looking at something on his phone. I remind myself to have a conversation with Havoc about him. Given what I now know, I don’t want him on Star duty, not if he’s going solo, at any rate.
