Page 13 of Centering Kaos

“Are you gonna keep trying to throw me off, or will you explain why you have a white-knuckled grip on that phone?” she asked. “By the way, that isn’t the posture of someone who’s fine. You look like you’re waiting for a ransom caller to tell you where to drop off the money. Where’s my nephew? He hasn’t been kidnapped, has he?”

“No. He’s moping in his room since I won’t let him play video games.”

“Uh oh.” She guzzled down a long drink of water before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Since it’s the weekend, I know he didn’t get in trouble at school again, so what’d he do this time?”

“He has so much attitude, and I can’t handle it today.”

She nodded. Dylan and Elenore had a great relationship that hadn’t been affected by my impending divorce, but she’d seen how differently he treated everyone else. “How’d your appointment go yesterday?” she asked. She’d worked late yesterday, and by the time she got home, I was asleep. Then this morning she had errands to run before she hit the gym.

“Good. We got the papers filled out and came up with a plan to serve them to him.”

Elenore paled and her gaze shot to my neck. “You scared of how he’ll react?”

“I’m trying not to think about it while I look for a job.”

“How’s that going?”

I knew what she was really asking, but chose to focus on what I wanted to discuss. “Not great. I’m about as employable as a chimpanzee.”

She grabbed an apple from the fruit basket and rinsed it. “You’re in luck, then. Chimpanzees have been known to use tools and learn sign language, so there’s hope for you yet.” Not only did she let me have my distraction, she played along. I loved my sister so much.

“Gee, thanks. How do our primate friends fare against Microsoft Office and QuickBooks?”

“See, that’s your problem. You’re treating these programs like enemies rather than the helpful tools they are. Computers are friends, T.”

“You don’t know that. The machines could rise up at any time. I’ve seen the movies.”

Elenore rolled her eyes and bit into her apple. My sister was a brilliant chemical engineer for a bigtime CBD manufacturer. To her, everything was a scientific equation she needed to solve, and I enjoyed driving her crazy by throwing out random conspiracy theories.

“Why are you looking for a new job?” she asked. “I thought Mr. Denali said you could return when your bruises are gone.”

Mr. Denali was a financial advisor in his early sixties. Despite my anemic resume and creative writing attempt at a work history, he’d given me an entry-level job as a receptionist. The work was easy, the pay was better than nothing, and the hours worked around Dylan’s school schedule. It had been the perfect fit until I’d gotten jumped in the parking garage.

The memory still made my blood run cold. Even worse, was the way the cops reacted to my attack. When they questioned Matt and discovered he had an alibi, they looked at me with suspicion, like I was some vindictive wife, trying to pin a random attack on my husband. Or maybe they thought I’d set the whole thing up. I had nothing to hide and had admitted I hadn’t seen my attacker’s face. It hadn’t occurred to me that Matt’s friends were as sleazy as he was and would lie to protect him.

“Come home, honey. You know you belong with me. Don't make me kill you.”

I could still hear the words he’d whispered into my ear as he wrapped his fingers around my neck from behind. The scent of his cologne—something I’d once found soothing—flooded my senses and made tears of terror leak from my eyes. I didn’t need to see his face to know who he was. The truth of his identity could be found in every squeeze of his hands.

“T?” Elenore nudged me.

I shook myself, trying to remember what we’d been talking about. My job. Right. “Yes, but I haven’t been there long enough to accrue vacation or sick days, and you know I can’t afford to miss work.” I had trouble covering my bills as it was. If my check was any slimmer, I’d have to juggle my bills or make partial payments until I could catch up. If I ever could catch up.

“Yes, you can. I’ll help you. Be honest with yourself, and with me. Why are you really looking for a new job?”

My sister always could see through my excuses and lies. “He knows where I work, El,” I admitted, hating the fear in my voice. My hands had started to shake, so I lowered my phone to the table and hid them in my lap.

Elenore’s eyes filled with compassion for a split second before anger lit it on fire. “I hate that manipulative bastard.” Pushing away from the counter, she paced the kitchen. “You left him. He shouldn’t be able to keep screwing with you like this.”

“I know.” I was so tired of dealing with Matt. The lies, the bruises, the false promises, the secrets… nine years of trying to keep my footing while his truths crashed against me had worn me down. My very being felt eroded, but the knot of anxiety in the pit of my stomach told me Matt wasn’t done chipping away at me yet. Not by a long shot.

As if reading my mind, Elenore assured me, “You’re safe here. He doesn’t like witnesses, and he’d need someone to buzz him into the building.”

“Right.” I hope I sounded more convinced than I felt. She worked long hours, and usually Dylan and I were home alone. The building’s security code access was more of a suggestion than anything. Tenants were known to prop open the door or kindly hold it open for the stranger behind them.

She swallowed and met my gaze. “I have some vacation time saved up. I can—”

“No. You are not using your vacation to babysit me.”

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