All in One Place (26 page)

I wanted to tell him that was great, but could I rightly celebrate the fact that he would be jabbing himself two or three
times a day from now on? “This is your first step toward taking control of your health,” I said in my best imitation of a
television doctor.

Cor glowered at me. “I thought it might get you, Jack, and Father Sam off my back.”

“We nag because we care.”

Cor leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his ample chest, a smile flickering over his rough features. “You do?”

I looked at his face, the ever-present suspenders over the wrinkled shirt, and felt a flood of warmth for this dear man. “Yes,”
I said quietly, touching him lightly on his shoulder. “I do.”

“Well… good.” He cleared his throat and nodded, then bent over his coffee and gave it another stir. “So, what time are you
off?”

“I can pick up the car…”

“What time are you off?”

I relented. “Seven. I'll be home at seven thirty.”

“I'll bring it then.”

“Good.”

“Hey, Terra. Why did the elephant cross the road?”

“To get to the other side?”

“Nope. It was the chicken's day off.” He slapped the table, laughing at the sad joke. “So I'll see you later?”

“I'm looking forward to it.” And, to my surprise, I was.

“Order up, Terra,” Mathilde snapped as I came into the back.

She had been in a snit all morning because the fryer wasn't working properly and the repairman had to order parts from Cleveland.
She'd been so cranky I was tempted to hitchhike down to Ohio myself to pick up the missing part.

I wondered what she was going to be like after I left. Helen, Sunny, and Anita—the other waitresses—would bear the brunt of
her ire. Remorse watered down the relief of not having to deal with her anymore. I wondered if they would find someone to
replace me right away.

Don't start. You need space. You need to breathe.

I also needed to talk to Lennie about collecting my wages and tell him I'd be quitting. I knew how crazy things got here,
and I knew I would leave them short-staffed. Lennie hadn't made up the new schedule for next week yet. I had to tell him before
he did.

Maybe I could leave tomorrow…

My heart sank as I looked at the calendar. Next week was Anneke's birthday party. I had even bought her the cutest present—a
pair of plastic high heels, a tiara, and a magic wand.

Don't go there either. You've never been one to spend a lot of time with the kidlets. Drop the present off before you go.

If
I went. Maybe I could stay a little while. Get some more money together.

The longer you stay, the harder it will he to leave.

My thoughts battled one another as I walked to my customer's table.

Nothing's changed. You were always going to leave. Stick with the plan.

But as Jack's face swam into my mind, I realized everything had changed. For the first time in my life, I felt like I had
met someone I could spend more than a few days with. Someone with depth and character.

Don't go.

Don't stay.

Maybe what I needed was some kind of sign. The kind Leslie talked about.

Yeah, right. Now she's got you believing in that hocus-pocus stuff.

“Are you okay, Terra?” the woman asked. “You look a little pale.”

“I'm okay. Thanks.” I gave her an extra-wide smile as I set down her plate. Then I scurried back to the coffee machine to
make the rounds with the coffeepot. I needed to keep busy. Just keep moving and keep the thoughts at bay.

M
y feet hurt when I made the final turn onto my street. My head hurt even more. My wish for keeping busy had been granted.
Shortly after my schizo-thoughts moment, customers had come pouring into the café like ants at a picnic, and I had been running
ever since. I didn't have a chance to talk to Lennie about getting paid, or about quitting.

So that would have to wait until tomorrow.

Now I was dog tired. Dusk was settling, and the streetlights were just starting to come on.

I heard a horn beep and turned in time to see a little white car come up the street, Cor behind the wheel. I smiled as he
pulled up under the light in front of Helen's house, the branches from the weeping willow brushing the top of the car.

My car. My ticket out of here. My sign
?

I started running. “You're nice and early,” I called out.

“I thought you would want the car right away,” he announced in a voice that, I was sure, carried all the way to Bozeman.

He laid his hand on the hood of the car as he walked around it, and as he came closer, I heard him wheezing.

“Are you okay?”

He waved my concern away. “Fine. Fine.”

“How are you going to get home? I should drive you.”

“No. Father Sam is picking me up. We're going bowling tonight. Now get those license plates you got the other day.”

I waited a beat to make sure he caught his breath, but he flapped his hand at me in a shooing motion. I got the hint, hurried
inside the house, and found the plates, surprised to see my hands trembling. A car. The North American dream of freedom.

When I brought the plates out, Cor was already kneeling at the back of the car, a toolbox opened out on the pavement in front
of him. He looked ready to do major surgery.

“You need all that just to put two screws in a license plate?”

“Jack got this for me for Father's Day.” Cor's large hands passed lovingly over the various screwdriver bits lined up like
obedient little soldiers. “Thought I would give it a test run.”

I will not think about Jack now,
I told myself, banishing the image of his concern from my mind. Erasing the memory of his kiss. Pushing aside the confessional
moment in his arms.
Focus on the car. The sign.

“Can I have the plate?” Cor's gruff question pulled me back from the thoughts I wasn't thinking about Jack. I handed him the
piece of thin metal, my car's entrée into the world of roads and interstates and fuel consumption.

“Anything I can do?” I asked, uncomfortable with the spectator aspect of my situation.

He shook his head. “You just sit and watch a master at work.”

“Where?”

“Very funny, young lady.” He chose a Phillips end for the screwdriver, fitting it in while I watched.

“I really appreciate this, you know,” I said.

“Well, I wouldn't do it for just anyone, you know,” he replied.

The trouble was, I did know. And the thought that he would do this for me created an unexpected lump in my throat.

“The only problem with this, though,” Cor continued, wheezing as he walked to the front of the car to repeat the procedure,
“is I'm afraid I'm just making it easier for you to leave.” He looked sad. As if he knew.

I swallowed the lump, my solid plans teetering.

Lights swung onto the street as a large car pulled up behind us and stopped. Father Sam got out. “You ready to go, Cor?” He
waved at me. “Hey, Terra. So, you've got your own car. Now you can hit the open road.”

Did he know, too?

“I'll be with you in a minute,” Cor said, putting the final twist on the last screw. He took his time packing up. Then, when
he was done, he tossed me a sad smile. “So. We'll see you tomorrow? At the diner?”

“And why wouldn't we?” Father Sam said. “She always works that shift. Now, old man. Let's get moving.”

Cor held my gaze, then came over and gave me a hug. “You're a special girl, little lamb. Don't let anyone tell you different.”
He handed me the keys, wrapping my fingers around them and squeezing my hand. “Here you go, girl. She's all yours.”

“I have to pay you yet.”

“You will. I'm sure.” He patted me on the shoulder and got into Father Sam's car. I stood on the road, watching as they drove
away, wishing I felt more certain about my decision.

Don't change your mind. Going once. Going twice. You're gone.

My feet kept time with the words as I hurried up the walk. I was leaving. I was leaving.

“Terra?”

The voice jumped out of the night.

M
y heart jumped as I spun around in time to see Amelia step out from behind a tree beside the walk.

As she stepped out into the light, I saw a large smear of blood on the front of her shirt, on her sleeve. She had her hand
on her arm.

“What happened? Where's Madison?” I cried. “How did this happen?” Anger coursed through me as blood seeped from her arm through
her fingers. So much for Jack's talk about how much Rod cared. He should be here to see this.

“I got hurt. My arm.”

“You need to have that looked at,” I said. Her hand was getting redder by the minute, and I could feel my head getting woozy
at the sight of the blood oozing between her fingers.

“I don't want to go to the hospital. I'll be okay. You can fix me up. It's just a cut.” She pulled her hand away to reveal
a four-inch gash. I winced in sympathy.

“I can't do that. You need stitches.” I was no nurse, but the ragged edges of flesh told me that this had not been done with
a knife. “How did this happen?” I asked, wishing I could just grab her and drag her to the hospital but knowing that, as tired
as I was right now, she could probably outrun me.

She leaned against the tree, her face paper white under the streetlight. “I'm not sure.” I could smell liquor on her breath,
so it was a safe bet that, as the ubiquitous domestic violence reports state, alcohol was involved.

“Did you and Rod have a fight?”

Her anxious gaze flew to mine. “Yeah. A fight.” She gave the information reluctantly, as if afraid to implicate her boyfriend.

“So how did you get hurt this bad? Did he hit you? Or cut you with something?”

“I tried to duck away, but I couldn't move fast enough.” She winced.

I imagined twenty different ways I could hurt this man. “Is Madison with Rod now?”

She caught me with her other hand. “You have to help me get my baby back.”

I tried to understand what had happened. Why was she here? Had she walked all the way after her fight with Rod? It didn't
make sense.

“He said I'm a bad mother. I'm scared that Rod is taking her away.”

Her comment pulled me back to her situation. “He can't. You're the mother—he's not even Madison's biological father.”

“You have to help me get her back.” Amelia grabbed my shirt, tugging on it.

“I'll help you; just calm down.” I didn't care how much she protested, I had to get this girl to a hospital. And then I had
to file a police report. Rod may have friends in high places, but he wasn't going to get away with this. Not if I could help
it.

“Where are you going?”

“We need to stop the bleeding. Helen might have something.” I ran to the house and up the front stairs. Helen was sitting
at the kitchen table doing a crossword puzzle when I burst into her kitchen.

“What's wrong, hon?”

“Amelia Castleman is outside. She's hurt. I need to take her to the hospital, but for now I need something to stop the bleeding.”

“Amelia's here?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“There's a message on my answering machine. Rod was looking for her, asking about her. He was worried.”

“Did you call him?”

“Not yet.”

I held up a warning hand. “Please don't call him. Amelia's got a huge cut on her arm from Rod, and she's scared to go to the
hospital because she's afraid he'll find her there.”

Helen frowned. “Rod hurt her?”

“Yes, he did,” I said, squeezing the words past my clenched teeth.

“Do you need to use my car?” Her hazel eyes sparkled with questions I knew I would have to answer later.

“No. I've got my own.” My keys were still tucked in my hand. “I just need something to stop the bleeding for now.”

“I'll get a towel.”

Amelia still stood outside, leaning against the tree.

Helen hurried back into the kitchen holding a couple of fluffy pink hand towels. “The closest I have to red,” she said, thrusting
them at me. “Now hurry. If you need help to get her to go to the hospital, holler. She's not too trusting. Otherwise, I'd
be out there helping you myself.”

“Thanks, Helen.” I gently tugged on my hand, the keys digging into my palm. “I should get going, though.”

“You be careful. The hospital can be crazy this time of night. All the loonies decide to go out and get hammered then start
driving around and get into accidents. I don't want to see you get hurt. Okay?” She sandwiched my hand between both of hers,
as if to underline her comment.

“I'll be careful.” Another gentle tug.

But Helen didn't let go. “Are you sure you're okay? You look a little drained.”

“Just worried about Amelia.”

Helen held my gaze. “You're a good girl. Don't let anyone tell you different. Not everyone would take the time for someone
like Amelia.”

I gave her a quick smile, gave my hand another tug, and this time she let me go.

But as I ran down the stairs her words echoed in my mind, rife with more meaning than I had head space to decipher.