Escaping Parker - F.T. Zele Page 0,22

I’m not looking to break down any walls. After everything I’ve been through, I just can’t see that part of my life. Maybe one day.” I try to picture the future, and what it could be like.

We work a little while longer until everything is out of the way, then we put some old sheets over the couches and chairs so they don’t get any paint on them. She directs me as to what needs to be painted, and how to paint correctly, and we get going. Most people know what a perfectionist I am when I start something, so I take my time, making sure it’s perfect. So obviously, it takes me longer to do this than most, but if it keeps Alice and James from having to fix it, where they can just sit in this room and enjoy it, I’m happy to do it, especially since they are putting me up for a while.

As the day drags on, and the sun is setting, I’m getting close to finishing up. All that’s left to do is wait for it to dry so Alice can get all her stuff back up. I’m pretty tired, and just want to take a shower and go to sleep. That’s when Alice calls for dinner.

“The living room looks real nice. Parker. Thank you for helping Alice,” James says, giving me a small smile when I sit at the table with him and Alice.

“Thank you, it was my pleasure. It was actually really calming to paint.” I stifle a yawn. “Where is Rig?”

“He went into town to grab some stuff; he should be back in a little bit,” Alice answers.

“Oh.” I suddenly feel a bit unsafe without him here. Horrifying thoughts of Steven finding me rush through my mind. How could Rig leave and not tell me, explain what to do if he found me?

My stomach sours and I just want to go disappear to my room for the night. Obviously I’m tired and thinking irrationally. It’s crazy how vivid I see the worst scenario play out in my head, like an overly dramatic suspense movie. Except mine doesn’t have one of those happy endings that make you all soft inside; mine ends with my family standing over my final resting place. My body trembles. Alice puts her hand on my arm, trying to pull me from my own haze.

“Thank you for dinner. I’m going to take a shower and get some sleep. All this running is finally catching up with me.” I excuse myself from the table and put my dish in the sink.

I bring some clean clothes to the bathroom to rinse off before I turn in for the night. I take my time as I let the hot water relax my nerves and pretend for a moment that I’m back at my parents’ house, where I was young, and not involved in this crap.

I finish up, not wanting to be selfish and take all the hot water. Maybe Rig plans to take a shower when he returns. I dry off and do my daily assessment in the mirror, searching my reflection as my old self is starting to come back to life. Now, a tiny light glints at the end of the tunnel.

When I get back in my room, clothes are folded neatly in the middle of the bed, ones I don’t recognize from the duffle bag. I grab one shirt off the top and see my size on the new store tag attached to the shirt. Nothing fancy, just a couple new tank tops and some new jeans. I don’t know where they came from, but I have an idea. I just wonder how he knew my size.

“Those are the right size, right?” Rig asks from the doorway.

“Yes, how did you know?” I ask, delighted to have some clothes of my own.

“I checked your old clothes before I discarded them. You know, because I had to get rid of anything anybody could have recognized you in. I figured you would feel better in clothes of your own, and something that fit instead of the clothes in the bag.”

“I’m not picky, those clothes were fine.”

“I’m not saying you are. Look, it was just something nice I could do for you; there was no hidden agenda or message there.” He holds up his hands, signaling he means no harm.

“I know, just next time you leave, can you tell me? What if something happened, or he showed up and you weren’t here? I