Escaping the Past

The elevator doors opened and Brody landed at the small of Lou’s back, nearly stealing her breath. She stepped away from him as they reached the counter.

“What’s your pleasure?” Brody asked.

“It doesn’t look like any of this will be pleasurable,” Lou said under her breath and then turned to the attendant behind the counter. “Vegetable soup and a diet soda will do it for me.”

“Same here but add a burger and fries to mine,” Brody requested.

“You’re going to eat all that?” Lou asked.

“Yep. I’m a grown man. You have to feed us every now and then.” He patted his stomach playfully like he was playing a drum. “Keep in mind I work at a hospital. You eventually get used to the really bad food.” Brody took the tray from Lou and guided her to a table where he clunked it down. He passed her soup and soda over and sat down across from her.

“So…let’s get back to the conversation we were having.” He dipped a French fry into a huge pile of ketchup and talked around it. “Why don’t you date? My mother can’t possibly keep you that busy.”

“My life keeps me that busy. I have Sarah, my work, and your family. They all keep me busy. I don’t leave the ranch unless Sarah has something going on at school or Sadie needs something from the store. I make it a rule not to date the hands, because it just causes bad feelings if it doesn’t work out. I can honestly say I have never been on a real date.” She tapped her fingers lightly on the tabletop and thought about it.

“Surely you dated Sarah’s father?” he asked.

“That was different. Why are we discussing this?”

“I just wanted to find out a little about you. That’s all.” He shrugged his broad shoulders.

“You’re hoping I’ll spill the beans and tell you my life story. Okay. Here goes. My mother was a stripper. She worked in the shadiest places in the worst parts of town. She used her body to keep me clothed and fed. I had a different ‘Uncle’ every month or two. He moved in long enough to screw my mother. When he pissed her off, she would move on to the next one. And then another one after that. The last few years she was alive, she was almost never sober. Except for the night she died.” She paused briefly. “I’ll never, ever, let anyone use my body like she did to survive. Now you know the reason I don’t date. Happy?”

Brody shoved a French fry in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully for a moment. Then said softly, “Tell me something good about her.”

“What?”

“It can’t have been all bad. Tell me about a good memory you have of her.”

Tears suddenly pricked at the backs of her lashes. This was why she didn’t talk about her mother.

“I don’t have a

ny.”

Just as softly, “I don’t believe that.”

Lou shook her head. “She never made cookies like the other moms.”

“What did she make?”

“What?” Why did this matter?

“She had to make something. She obviously fed you. What did she make?”

Lou shrugged. “Regular stuff. Pizza. Burgers. Hot dogs. But nothing was ever called by its name.” Lou smiled. “Everything had a crazy name, like you would see on a menu at a restaurant. When we had burgers, we were having Ole Bessy over to dinner.” The grin was now unmistakable on her face.

“See. I told you that you had some good memories,” he said quietly.

A grin tugged at her lips. “Yeah. I guess I do,” Lou smiled as she stole a French fry from his plate and dipped it in his ketchup. The ketchup smeared the corner of her mouth so he reached over to wipe it with his napkin. Her eyes met his, and electricity moved between them just as his pocket started to buzz. He retrieved the pager from his pocket.

“Looks like they’re ready for us. Let’s go.” The rest of the food was left uneaten as they rose from their seats. Lou dumped the contents of their tray in the trash on the way out the door.

They entered the elevator and Lou looked over at Brody. He wasn’t at all what she’d expected. “Thank you.”

“For what?” he asked.

“For giving some of my mother back to me,” Lou replied quietly. She hated the quiver in her voice.