Page 33 of Daddy's Little Charmer
Sunny had seen the type of person Harmony was, and she instantly felt protective of her and wanted her to be safe. She also dreamed of being her friend—something she hadn’t had for so long. It still amazed her that the very next day, Harmonyknocked on Sunny’s door and offered her a plate of cookies she had just baked. They had been friends ever since.
“Here are the groceries I told you I’d get,” Harmony said in a normal voice and cheerfully. “I can’t stay long. We’re going to visit Mrs. Owens before we head back.”
“I’m glad,” Sunny said. “She’s missed you.”
“I’ve missed both of you.”
Harmony hugged the woman and whispered “corn” in her ear before she got back in the truck with Christian. She leaned back and grinned at the confused look on her face.
“I’ll be back next week. How’s that?”
Sunny smiled. “You know you don’t have to bring me groceries, right. I’d love to see you, no matter what.”
“I know. You take care of yourself.”
Sunny waved them off and walked back to the apartment.
“What did that bitch give you?” the pimp asked and grabbed the sack.
“Just food, like she always does.”
The pimp looked through the sack, nodded, and threw it back into her arms. “Fucking vegetables. Go put it away and come right back. Your day ain’t over,” he growled around the cigarette in his mouth.
Sunny walked into the front door and smiled when she heard Harmony’s voice in Mrs. Owens’s apartment. She’d never met anyone else who cared about her as a person except her small family back in Ohio. Harmony made her feel human when her pimp and the men she “dated” treated her like garbage.
One little mistake of trusting the wrong person, and her life had been turned into a hellhole of isolation, pain, and humiliation.
With the door closed and locked behind her, Theresa made it into her tiny kitchen and put everything but the corn away. Outside of her front door, she was a different person, asurvivor. But in her own place, her sanctuary, she thought of herself as Theresa. A normal person.
She looked all over the can of corn and couldn’t find anything. It was as heavy as a regular can of corn, but it didn’t make any sound when she shook it. It felt a bit different than usual, so she kept trying to open the can.
Theresa was shocked when she twisted the bottom, and it started to come open. She gasped. Inside the can was what looked like several thousand dollars, a piece of paper with Harmony’s name and number, and a bus ticket back to her hometown she vaguely remembered telling Harmony about one day.
The woman slid to the floor and wept. She’d wanted to go home for so long and see her mother before she passed and be with her sister, but her pimp, Porter, took all the money, so she never had any for even a bus ticket. Her sister didn’t have the money to send her, but said Theresa could live with her if she could get there.
She could never thank Harmony and that man of hers enough. This was a chance to get away from Porter. She’d wait until early morning the next day, when she knew Porter was usually passed out, and she’d make her way to the nearest bus station. She might even use a bit of the money for a taxi to get farther away.
She quickly screwed the lip back on the can and put it behind several others in her cupboard before she headed back out.
Sunny acted as though nothing had changed. She needed to pull it off, or Porter would stay with her, and she couldn’t take him putting his hands on her ever again.
Sunny felt tears sting her eyes when she saw Harmony and her man helping the old teacher into the truck. She imagined Harmony would be taking care of her, too. Harmonyhad taken both Sunny and Mrs. Owens under her tiny wing from the very first day.
Sunny wondered about the motives several times, but Harmony had never done anything to make Sunny suspicious. She was just a nice person, and since Sunny hadn’t been around any such person for a long time, she hadn’t trusted her at first. Now, she thanked God every day for bringing Harmony into her life.
Several hours later, Porter pushed Sunny through the front door.
“Get your ass in there. I’ll be back to get you early afternoon.”
“All right, Porter,” she said timidly, like she usually did.
Theresa locked her door and leaned against it, listening to Porter’s footsteps as they climbed the stairs. She took a deep breath when she heard his door slam.
She took a long shower to get the stench off her. She imagined she could feel the ugliness of her life slip down the drain. She would never lie down for another man as long as she lived, unless she wanted him.
Theresa then rushed around the studio apartment, gathering the few clothes she’d take with her. Every piece of the clothes she wore for Porter would stay. She double- and triple-checked her small home for anything that might reveal information Porter could use to locate her.
A few hours later, Theresa put on a pair of dark blue jeans and a long-sleeved black shirt. She tied her blonde hair up and stuffed it under a baseball hat she’d found a few years back. She opened the corn and put a few bills in her bra, a few in her shoe, a few in her front pocket with the ticket, and the rest went into the bottom of the bag in her memento box. She grabbed the only weapon she had—a switchblade she’d stolen from a guy’s car when he wasn’t looking.
