Page 14 of Make Me Whole

I raised my brows. “Already hungry, peanut?”

She looked up as if it was a question that needed to be thought about, then shook her head. “I don’t think so. I’m just curious.”

“It’s chicken nuggets, cherry tomatoes, and cheese. For dessert you have a muffin and grapes.” I chuckled and kissed her forehead. “Is that to your liking, little miss?”

Ella’s smile widened, and it made my heart feel a little fuller. “Yes, it is. I love, love, love chicken nuggets.”I know,I thought but didn’t say it. “Do you think Aiden will come to my soccer practice tomorrow?”

“I think so. Grandpa will ask Max today, right, Dad?”

He nodded and hummed in agreement from the front seat. My kid’s smile grew even bigger. Though Max had been too caught up with work to come to any of the soccer practices last week, he always sent Aiden along with my dad. The three of us drank soda and cheered as Ella practiced, and her excitement for the sport had returned. It was sweet to see the two kids bonding so much in such a short time.

However, I couldn’t deny the disappointment I felt every time I saw the blond boy without his father. My meltdown that day still embarrassed me, and I wasn’t sure whether I should apologize for it when I saw Max again or just pretend that moment between us had never happened. All I knew was that I had thought about him a lot these past few days.

My dad cranked the engine, and I wished them both a good day. I stood at the driveway and waved them goodbye as Dad drove away. Only after Dad had rounded the corner did I walk back to the house.

I stopped at the stoop to look for the newspaper—which hadn’t been delivered yet—and noticed a black sedan driving by slowly. It parked across the street and two houses down from my father’s, but no one came out straight away.

Feeling like a busybody who spent her unemployed days watching the neighbors made me feel all wrong and creepy. I went inside, closed the door, and went about my day.

After the Saturday morning I lost with Ella because of Eli, I decided to fight my depression. A Google search told me the first step for that was creating a productive routine and setting up goals. So, I did that.

Every morning after Dad and Ella left, instead of going back to sleep, I would change out of my pajamas and into real clothes, brush my hair and teeth, and get a bit of makeup on so I could feel pretty again. Then, I went down to the kitchen table with my laptop, made a new pot of coffee, and searched for the job I needed to refute Eli’s claims that I was an unfit mother. After a healthy lunch, I cleaned the house and cooked dinner before heading out to pick up my daughter.

Hopefully, if I kept that up for long enough, someone would hire me and I would eventually start to feel better.

Three hours and four cups of coffee later, I had found no openings within driving distance fit for a twenty-six-year-old single mother with no experience who required flexible hours and only had a high school diploma and very few skills. I sighed and slammed the computer’s screen closed.

I marched to the front door to see if they had delivered the newspaper. They had, right in the middle of the lawn. I tightened the sweater around myself and went to pick it up. As I straightened my back, I noticed that the back sedan was still parked on the street, but one house closer to our home. The person inside was still sitting there.

A chill ran down my spine. I clutched the newspaper to my chest and darted back to the house. Once inside, I turned the locks and closed the front curtains. It was probably crazy, but I couldn’t help but think that the car was there for me per Eli’s request.

I ran to the kitchen, locked the sliding doors, and grabbed my phone to call my father for help. “You’re just being crazy,” I told myself before I pressed the call button. “There’s no need to scare Dad. Even if that guy is here watching someone, it doesn’t mean he’s watching you. Chill, Sky. You’re safe.”

I put the phone back on the table, sat down, and took a deep breath. I opened the paper and breezed past the various sections until I found the classifieds. There were several ads for rental homes, some looking for roommates and even a couple offering escort services, but only six for jobs.

Three were in construction, and one was for a masseuse position at a place called Rub Your Hub, which didn’t seem like a legit spa. The other ads were for a position at a local diner, and the last one was for a position at a kids’ boutique.

The diner had been my first—and only—job right after leaving Eli.

I worked there for two days before Eli showed up to “eat.” He demanded I quit the job since it wasn’t fitting for the town’s first lady to work as a waitress. I refused to quit and reminded him that we were getting a divorce, but I still got fired the next day for some bullshit reason. They said I could use them as a reference, and I did when I applied for the boutique position. That job I didn’t get because after reviewing my references they decided to go with another candidate—an obvious lie, considering the ad.

Frustrated, I tossed the paper in the garbage and made myself lunch.

A while later, while I cleaned the house, I stopped by the front window and peered outside. The black sedan was still parked across the street, but this time, a man was standing outside with binoculars directed at my house. The same chill I had felt earlier ran down my back, but this time I knew I wasn’t imagining things.

I had to leave the house to pick up Ella in less than two hours, and I didn’t feel safe to do so on my own. I took my phone out of my pocket and called my dad.

After two rings, he answered. “Hey, honey. What’s up?”

“There’s someone watching the house, Daddy.” My voice broke in fear.

There was a second of silence, then he asked, “What do you mean, Skylar?”

Tears pooled in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. “I mean that there’s a man in a black sedan watching the house with binoculars.” I continued telling my father the whole story.

“Are the doors locked?” he asked once I was done. I told him yes, and he continued, “I’m an hour away, waiting for a big client. Even if I cancel, it’ll be too long, so here’s what I want you to do. Go to my room and lock yourself there. The code to the gun safe is 1604. Get my pistol—but be careful because it’s loaded and ready to shoot. I’m going to find someone to go stay with you. Do not leave my room until you hear a familiar voice, okay?”

“Okay,” I said in a small, frightened voice.

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