Page 5 of You Were Invited
Two cars blocked hers in from behind; though it was technically possible to move her car, the landlord would surely throw a fit if she drove over the landscaping. The thought crossed her mind, though, to lie that one of the guests had been carelessly selfish and had taken a joy ride over the grass and manicured bushes. She turned back to face the house.
If not for the bite of the early spring Fort Walton air, she would’ve thought this a dream.No… An utter nightmare.Her heart raced in her chest. Déjà vu tickled her mind while she stared at the dim, green-tinted porch light of the bungalow she rented with Chris in the suburban Montana town.
I have to get away from this. I can’t stay here. Run. Get away. Run.
Closing her eyes, a thousand memories flooded her mind.
All those nights she’d slept in the family car just to get any peace of mind.
As young as nine, she'd had nightmares that her dad would get up in the middle of the night and drive drunk. She'd bundled herself up in the backseat with pillows and a snack, hoping tomorrow would be different from yesterday.
Hoping that her parents wouldn't fight every minute they were awake.
Hoping “good Dad” would stay, and “bad Dad” would go away forever, or even just for a solid week.
Hoping the next day would bring salvation.
But nothing ever changed, even when Mom had left.
I have to get away from this.
Later, as a teenager, she’d found minimal solace inside the old beater she’d bought with the funds from her two summer jobs. It became her second bedroom when Dad was restless and in a stormy mood. Pacing the house in the middle of the night, half-starting tasks and leaving behind mess after mess. Picking fights about nothing or nonsense.
She’d hid all that for years, even from Molly, before she’d slipped up one tipsy night and accidentally confessed it. She’d never told Chris.
That car was gone now– thankfully– and she had no intention of cuddling up with old memories in the back of her current car. It had been almost ten years since sleeping in a car had held any appeal– though that was an overstatement. It was purely about survival.
Chris didn’t so much as peek out the window. When someone loved someone, they were supposed to provide a safe place. As she thought about this, a second thought whapped her in the face.
I’d rather walk out into traffic than lie in that bed alone ever again.Cold air ran right through her.Gotta sit tight for a bit.She unlocked her car and got behind the wheel.
She hated bothering anyone at this hour, but Molly had made her promise to never hesitate if she was in trouble again.
Her breath smoked out of her nose. Rubbing her arms, she grabbed her phone. The screen light made her squint.
After several rings, Molly answered.
“Hello?”Her voice sounded languid and raspy.“Mmm... Everything okay?”
Annie swallowed, blinking away stinging tears. Her voice quivered as she spoke into the phone. “C-could you come pick me up? I’m at the house…” Her lip trembled. “Chris threw a party. I can’t go anywhere... I’m blocked in. I need help. I’m trying to get out of here.”
Annie heard the baritone rumble of Peter’s voice as he questioned his wife on the other end of the line. After a second, Molly spoke again with an air of urgency.
“We’ll be there as quickly as we can. Sit tight.”
“Thank you,” Annie whispered. She wanted to let out a sigh of relief, but she couldn't bring herself to do it.
Not yet.
two
Annie was too exhausted to cry over Chris as she tucked herself into Molly and Peter’s guest bed.
After sleeping in late and finishing her article with no time to spare, Annie joined Molly in her living room. The space was homey, with its toasted almond carpet and warm yellow walls. A large picture window overlooked the driveway. Molly immediately handed Annie a fleece blanket and a mug of tea. They curled up on a oversized sage green couch. The living room TV droned on at a low volume, and their mugs sat on the wood coffee table. Annie pulled the blanket over her shoulders. Molly cuddled under the sunflower-themed grandma crocheted blanket that complimented her long, curly, red hair.
“You always seem... uptight around him,” Molly held up her freckled hands. “You already got one foot out the door. I don’t want to ruin things if you go back... but... you seem really, really...”
“Mismatched?” Annie supplied.
