Page 27 of More Than Nothing
Delia stormed back to the kitchen, muttering something about Elenie being no better than her “goddamn useless, waste-of-space brother’—an insult far worse than most others. Delia had hated Tyson with a passion ever since he’d thrown a manhole cover through one of the largest diner windows when he was high as a kite. He’d laughed in her face at the suggestion he pay for the damage and it looked likely she’d take the grudge to her grave.
“A holló vájja ki a szemed.2” Weary to her bones, there was no bite in Elenie’s insult and no one to hear it anyway. But her pride insisted on a comeback, if only for her own satisfaction.
Otto had his nose in a book and looked like he was making himself comfortable for a long stay. He ordered lunch and an iced tea. His smile, as warm as vanilla sauce over apple pie, soothed her tattered senses. “I’ve got nowhere else to be today so I plan to relax here with my friend, Stephen King.”
“Is it good?” She gestured to the book.
“Terrifying.”
“Terrifyingly good?”
“That too.” Otto’s chuckle was throaty.
“I finished the E.V. Huxley I was reading. I think you’d like it. Great twist at the end.”
Elenie’s foot slid, a piece of paper beneath her sneaker stealing the traction. The pain in her ribs flared and dots swam in front of her vision. One of the flyers for the business guild’s gala dinner lay the floor. She held her side as she picked it up, wincing at the discomfort as well as the font and color combination while she scanned the familiar details.
“Will you be going to the Local Event of the Year?” Elenie asked Otto, placing suitable emphasis on the grand description.
“Unlikely, I’d imagine. I like to be in bed by ten thirty. You?”
“Still waiting for my invitation from Prince Charming.” She attempted a flippant grin, which tugged at the healing scab on her lip. Gala dinners weren’t a big feature in her life. Nor were fun evenings out, nice clothes, or dates with dashing men.
Moving stiffly along to a new table of customers, pad at the ready, Elenie tried to ignore the hopelessness that weighed on her shoulders.
Come see me, Fairy Godmother. I’m here and I’m ready for you to makeover my life.
Elenie’s legs were shaking when she opened the front door after work. Her heart thumped, throat tight. Coming home was never fun, but this utter dread was new. Everything had gone to shit so fast she still felt dizzy. A line crossed that could never be uncrossed.
Her mother and Dean were in the kitchen. There was no sign of Frank. Both turned when Elenie walked in and both slid their eyes away almost immediately.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” Athena echoed.
Dean poured a mound of Cheerios into a bowl, holding out the box to Elenie. “Want some?”
It was easily the nicest thing he’d said to her in months. The ever-present beanie plastered his straggly hair to his forehead; blue eyes peered through the strands.
“I’m good, thanks.” She had no appetite at all. Maybe later her stomach would settle.
Athena added sugar to her coffee and stirred, discarding the teaspoon next to her mug. She spun it with one finger, leaving a dirty circle of liquid on the wooden kitchen table. “I had a word with Frank.” She waved a hand at Elenie’s face, unease setting her mouth into harsh lines. “He went too far. It won’t happen again.”
Dean sloped out of the room. Elenie nodded, lost for a reply.
That’s OK, Mom.
No problem.
Thanks for asking your husband not to backhand your daughter.
She rubbed her eyes, tired beyond belief. Her mother was kidding herself if she thought she had Frank on any kind of leash. “I’ll get something to eat later.”
Elenie couldn’t stand to be in the house so she grabbed a book and slowly climbed the small hill behind the garage to sit in the calm stillness of the dusky evening. As she drew her knees up under her chin, she soaked in the quiet and tried to empty her head. Ahalf hour went by with only thechip, chip, chipof a song sparrow disturbing the peace but her mind refused to rest. She couldn’t even read.
She thought of Millie Westlake again, as she’d done every day since the overdose, and wondered how her recovery was going. Had the pills come from Frank? There’d always been drugs in their house. Elenie knew they passed through Frank’s hands. Now and then, he’d even gotten on her case about pushing some at school. It had been pretty bad for a while when she was younger, but she’d always refused to get involved and had never caved. Ty and Dean were willing enough anyway. Frank hadn’t needed her in the end.
She thought of Ray Parker and his truck—just another victim of Frank’s heavy-handed intimidation tactics. Elenie didn’t even know the background to that one. She considered all the times Frank had stolen property stored in the garage or disappeared for days on undiscussed delivery runs. It wasn’t guesswork. Tyson often moaned about unloading the huge quantities of boxes that came and then went again.
