Run Away Baby

“Okay,” Charlie agreed.

“With that being said, I’d like to apologize in advance for any future discomfort you suffer brought on by my massive trust issues.” She broke into another fit of giggles. “I’m sorry. I’m such a mess. I need to stop talking now.”

“It’s alright,” he said.

“Now I’m really leaving,” Abby said, handing him his sunglasses and opening the door.

“Until next time, Abby-girl,” Charlie said.

“I miss you already.”

“Abby?” Charlie said, as she was about to shut the door.

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to get you out of this. Just wait and see.”

Chapter 23

“Put your rubber boots on,” Randall growled.

“Sure. Give me a second.” Abby went into the bathroom to spray some Derma Numb on her vagina. Buying all that lingerie had been one of her dumbest moves ever, and that was really saying something.

Randall had gotten himself a prescription for Viagra (Abby was unsure why he’d never thought to do so sooner) and he was so ecstatic that he was once again a “fully functional male” (his own words) that he couldn’t stop himself from constantly starting something. Abby suspected that he was more turned on by the sight of his own dick than by any of her outfits.

They cycled through all $1,500 worth of attire, and, just when Abby thought Randall was losing steam, a $1,000 Frederick’s of Hollywood gift card appeared sticking halfway out of a surprise pile of scrambled eggs one Sunday morning.

“I didn’t know you could make eggs,” she said as she rinsed the card off in the kitchen sink.

Her survivalist classes were going strong. She could start a fire with flint, and figure out some leaves and berries to eat. Still, she was convinced that no matter how many plants she learned to identify, if she were thrown in the woods and left to die, she’d die.

She’d gone on the pill. Charlie got them for her somehow, delivering them in a crumpled brown lunch sack like they were drugs or hamburgers. Abby kept them loose in a mint container.

For a few weeks, neither Charlie nor Abby brought up the subject of Abby leaving her husband. They saw each other just a couple hours a week, in stolen moments after her class. It didn’t leave much time to talk.

On what Charlie was calling their one month anniversary, he surprised Abby with a cupcake, a single red rose that she suspected might be from a gas station, and the desire to have a conversation about their future.

“We need to talk,” he said, after she’d put the rose in a plastic cup of water on his countertop.

“Is something the matter?” she asked him.

“No. Talking’s a good thing, Abby-girl.”

“Okay. What’s up?”

“You need to get away from your husband.”

Abby sighed. “I don’t know. It’s not that simple.”

“Maybe it is. Maybe you’re imagining that it’s harder than it really is.”

“As long as I’m alive, he’ll look for me. He’s obsessed with me, but even more so, he’s really proud. He’d be furious if I left him because it would make him look bad to his friends.”

“So you need to disappear.”

“I’m a person. I’m not a pet, or a… sock. I can’t just disappear.” Abby said.