Page 31 of More Than Nothing
The night was clear and still. Only the occasional distant engine interrupted the rhythmical clicking of cicadas in the shrubbery. Elenie wanted just a little more time before he knew all her dirty secrets.
“What was it like to be a city cop?”
Roman’s out-breath was barely audible, but she caught the way his jaw flexed.
“It was intense,” he replied eventually. “Antisocial hours, tough cases, hard work. I made detective, did a four-year stint in fraud and then crossed over to homicide.”
“Did you like it?”
He didn’t answer for a while. “I enjoyed it for a long time. The work in fraud, especially. Pitting myself against a challenge and coming out on top was a buzz. But homicide is brutal. There’s always another case to replace each one you close.” He wiped a hand across his mouth and shot her a sideways look. “In Pine Springs, the toughest part of my day is getting a cup of tea before someone else swipes the last of the milk.”
Elenie recognized the deflection away from his work in the city and let it go. “So, you’re happy to be back?”
“I’m not back for good. I’m on a temporary transfer.” Roman frowned, as if he’d surprised himself with the words. “That’s classified, actually. I haven’t told many people. Anyone.”
Elenie made a small gesture with her mug, even as her chest cracked open like a walnut. “Who would I tell?”
I don’t want you to leave.
The words were so loud in her head, she was amazed he couldn’t hear them. She counted the brightest stars in the sky and tried to squash down a sense of loss for something she’d never had.
“Who hurt you, Elenie?”
The blunt question hung in the air. She’d expected it before, but now it caught her unprepared.
Elenie exhaled and shifted. Standing up and bringing her coffee and the blanket with her, she lowered herself onto the deck next to Roman. She perched on the wooden top step, which led down to the backyard. Blanket around her shoulders, she drew her knees up beneath it, wrapping her hands around the welcome heat of her coffee cup.
“Craig Perry saw us at the fair—we passed him by the beer stand—and he told Frank. My stepdad’s not a fan of the cops,” she clarified, unnecessarily.
Roman’s grip was tight on the handle of his mug. When Elenie focused on his knuckles rather than his face, he seemed to make a conscious effort to relax his fingers and took a swift gulp of tea.
“Talk to me,” he invited.
There was another period of silence.
“I don’t really know where to start,” she admitted.
“Anywhere will do.”
Elenie stared out into the dark. “I’ve never met my dad. My mother wasn’t sure who he was. Falling pregnant with me was a disaster for her. It ruined so many plans, apparently. Maybe if she hadn’t been drunk or high so often, she’d have noticed sooner and I would never have existed. But she missed the signs and ended up with a baby she didn’t really want. As mothers go, I guess I wouldn’t have chosen her either.” Elenie took a sip of coffee. “We stumbled along together when I was small. Every now and then I had a spell in foster care, but the child benefit was appealing and sometimes there was nothing else to buy cigarettes with.”
She could feel the weight of Roman’s whole attention. He had a way of studying her as if he could read every thought in her head, every expression on her face or movement of her body.
“We moved around a lot. Mainly because Mom struggled to hold down a job, so the rent didn’t get paid regularly enough to keep landlords happy for long. The partying and the drinking were endless. She loved a good time. When she met Frank, they just clicked and got married inside of a month. It was a match made in heaven.”
“What’s Frank’s story?”
“His first wife left him with the boys and disappeared.” Elenie flicked a glance his way. “I don’t blame her a bit. They were littleshits then and they’re worse now. My mother loves the perks that come with a husband who pays the bills, stepkids who don’t want mothering, and a lifestyle on the wrong side of legal. He has a network of shady contacts, breaks some faces, delivers stuff for people, and torches a truck—”Damn!She almost slapped herself. “—or something else, here and there. She drinks too much, spends his money, and genuinely loves him. I think he loves her, too.” Elenie shuddered. “In any case, it seems to work well for them. They all fit together perfectly, like a crappy jigsaw puzzle of lowlife bliss.”
Roman’s voice was husky when he spoke. “And how do you fit in?”
“I don’t. I never have.” Elenie tried to assess his reaction to her words. “I always knew I wanted the exact opposite of the life my mother dragged me through. That hasn’t changed. Honestly, I think she’s baffled by me. My thoughts and feelings don’t make sense to her. I’m not sure she has a moral compass.” She traced her fingers along the wooden grooves of the deck which ran beside her leg. “I worked hard at school. I loved learning. It was a welcome escape. And I’ve refused to get involved in any of Frank’s criminal shit over the years. It’s caused more fights than I can even remember. My plan was always to leave. I dreamed of walking away and putting down roots somewhere else. I still do.”
Roman stared at the empty mug in his hand, twisting it around and around, and she wished she could tell what he was thinking. The grubby details of her life lay dirty and shameful between them.
“Why don’t you?”
She closed her eyes. “You must think I’m pathetic.”
