Lost in the Supermarket

Then we were at the school and I saw Mary for the first time.

*****

Paula's story

Mary was surprised to be picked-up in a car, one that was being driven by a stranger.

"Hi honey," I said. "This is Mister Mark, a friend from work. He's helping me out today."

"Okay," she said. "What about my after-school program? We were going to have juice and cookies today."

"I'll call them and tell them you have other plans today, honey."

"Pleased to meet you, Mary," Mark offered. He waited for her to buckle herself in before driving away.

"I suppose that, technically, she ought to have a car seat," he murmured to me. "But I'll drive as safely as I can."

When we got to our apartment, Luke's car was parked out in front.

I froze.

Mark saw the truck and his face tightened. "You go get your things," he said to me. "All your important papers, some clothes for you and Mary. Her favorite toys. You get them and bring them down to my car; put them in the trunk. Get what you need—what you might need for a week—but try to make as few trips as possible. Take Mary with you; have her carry as much as she can."

"What about Luke?"

"I'll have a few words with him," Mark said.

"Be careful, Mark. He has a temper on him."

"You know that because—"

"Experience." I thought my tone of voice conveyed everything that needed to be said. It must have, because he nodded and his mouth turned down into a frown.

"Maybe I can talk some sense into him," Mark replied. "You go get your things; put what you need—but not more than you'll need—into my trunk. Use the back seat if you have to, but leave room for Mary. I'll try to buy you as long as I can."

I grabbed Mary and rushed as quickly as we could to our second-floor apartment. I fumbled with the keys but we were soon inside. I started grabbing things and I told Mary what to get for herself.

It took about ten too-long minutes to get the first load together. Important papers, school stuff, and clothes for Mary. I kept urging her to hurry but everything seemed to move in slow motion. We did the best we could, but it wasn't good enough.

When we got to the bottom of the stairs, I saw Mark on the ground, with Luke standing over him.

*****

Mark's story

I tried to play it cool.

I ambled over to the pickup truck and tapped on the driver side window. The guy in the backwards John Deere cap—Luke—rolled the window down. He looked at me but his eyes kept straying to Paula and Mary, who were moving up the stairs behind me. I hoped they were moving quickly.

I didn't know how long I could keep Luke from following them.

"Hey!" I said brightly, a wide smile on my face. "It's you again! What's your name?"

"Luke," he mumbled. "My name's Luke. And what are you doing here?"

"Just giving Paula a ride home," I replied. "I mean, we let her off early today and she needed a ride—so here I am!"

His eyes were dark and suspicious. "You a friend of theirs?"

"Yep! I mean, I'm her manager—you know? But we're also friends. Friends help each other out, am I right?"

His face was cold; his eyes went from suspicious to angry with a flash. "Friends with benefits?" he asked with a sneer.

"Ha ha! Nope. Just regular friends."

He hummed. I hoped Paul and Mary were moving quickly. The situation felt like it might blow up at any second.

After a few short seconds, Luke said, in a cold voice, "Look, uh—what's your name again?—this is between me and Paula. Ain't your business. None of this is your business."

"I know!" I said with another wide smile on my face. "It's not any of my business! But—you know what?—Paula's my friend and I feel like helping her out a bit. So, maybe you would consider telling me what you want with her? Maybe I can help you out as well."

"She's my wife and she stole my girl," he said in a voice that made his words sound like a proclamation. Or a mantra. I wondered how many times he had repeated that sentence to himself on the long drive to LA.

"I see! Well, you know. Those are kind of legal issues and maybe it would be better for you to get a lawyer—"

He pushed that door open so fast it caught me and I fell down on my ass.

"We don't need a lawyer!" he yelled. Paula had been right: Luke did have a temper on him—and a short fuse. Not a great combination.

What would they write on my tombstone? "A victim of a stranger's poor impulse control."

I tried to get up but his steel-toed workboot caught me in the ribs. Damn, that hurts! The kick probably would have fractured my ribs but I rolled away so fast it was only a glancing blow. Ju-Jitsu practice was great for learning how to fall and roll.

I rolled away as fast as I could. When I stopped rolling, I tried to stand up, still gasping for air.

When I could focus again, I saw that Luke had stopped attacking me. Instead, he was staring at Paula and Mary, who were both staring back at him.

*****

Paula's story

Mark managed to roll away from Luke but I could see he'd been hurt pretty bad. When he slowly got to his feet, he was winded. He was wheezing. His face looked as gray as his hair.

Luke was staring at us. Well, he was staring at Mary. She'd been about four when we escaped the Lambs, when we ran off and hopped a bus to anywhere other than where we came from.

Mary held my hand so tightly it hurt.

Luke ignored Mark and took a couple of steps toward us. That was a mistake.

Mark grabbed Luke by one arm and turned him around—somehow. He kept holding onto Luke's arm and they both fell to the ground. I know I'm not explaining this clearly, but that's what I saw. They fell to the ground, with Mark still holding onto Luke's arm, and then Luke's arm was twisted and his face was all screwed up in pain.

"Paula, call the police," Mark puffed out in a strained voice. Luke didn't say anything but I could tell he was in pain. Whatever Mark was doing to his arm hurt a lot.

I dialed 911.

Mark kept holding Luke on the ground. Luke wasn't going anywhere. I don't know how a 55-year-old grocery manager could handle a 30-year-old farmer like that, but that's what Mark did.

Soon we heard the sirens.

*****

Mark's story

The cops sorted things out pretty quickly. When I showed them the bruise over my ribs, the two of them nodded and, soon, Luke was in cuffs.

They took pictures of my bruise. They took statements from Paula and me. I emphasized that he wasn't her husband in the legal sense. "Not even common-law," I said. "They only lived together for a few years."

I also emphasized that Paula denied he was the father of the child. "There was never a paternity test," I told them. The kept nodding and making notes.

"This ain't over yet!" Luke yelled as they drove him away in the back of the cruiser. They left his pickup where it was parked; I didn't know if they would have it towed or not. I realized I didn't care either way.

I only cared about Paula and Mary.

Paula kept it together until the cops drove Luke away, then she broke down crying. I hugged her and she hugged me back, while Mary watched us quietly.

"Oh, Mark," she finally said, "what are we going to do? He knows where I work! He knows where we live! As soon as—"

"First thing we're going to do is talk to a lawyer," I said. "I know a guy. He'll help us out."

"But I can't—"

"I can. Let me. Let me help you."

Paula nodded. She held Mary's hand and the two of them looked at me, waiting for me to tell them what they needed to do next.

I thought hard for a minute or two before I said, "Let's finish packing your stuff. Then let's get out of here. Where we're going, he won't be able to find you."

"Where's that?"

"My place."

*****

Mary's story

Mark had a surprisingly nice three-bedroom condo. I don't know how he afforded the place on his manager's salary. One of the bedrooms was fixed up as a kind of study, with bookshelves and a desk. The other bedroom was a guest room, with a queen-sized bed. That's where he put Mary and me.

He gave us time to unpack and hang our stuff in the closet. While we were getting settled, he was on the phone with somebody. I heard snippets of their conversation.

"No, he didn't threaten Mary or Paula. Not in so many words. But the threat was there, I promise."

"Right. They got some pictures of my ribs. Yep, it's going to smart for a while—for sure! But nothing broken, I don't think. Yeah, I'll get checked-out tomorrow."

"Okay. Simple assault, then? And we should file charges? How long—"

"Oh. That soon? Okay. We'll deal with that when he's released."

"Nope. Never legally married. And I promise you, she's not sure if he's the father. I know he thinks he is, but—"

"What about Luke's parental rights? What's that? Okay. He's an 'alleged parent' until a paternity test proves—"

It felt strange to hear Mark relate my personal business to a stranger in such a casual fashion. I had been holding onto all this stuff for years ... and now it was out in the open. There was going to have to be some kind of paternity test. I was going to have to go to court. Things were going to go from my personal business to everyone's business like a car going from zero to sixty.

I hated it.

I mean, I knew all this had to be done, but I still hated it. And I hated what this was going to do to Mary. What she was going to hear and what she was going to learn about me ... and about herself.

I wanted to cry but I held myself together.

For Mary.

*****

Mark's story

My guy, Alex, was a business attorney. Contracts, insurance, employer law. Stuff like that. He wasn't a criminal attorney nor was he any kind of expert in California family law. I was going to need another guy for that stuff.

The other guy's name was Matt.

But before we met Matt, we needed to get ourselves situated, make some plans.

And eat some dinner.

Normally, I would have a burger or spaghetti, or maybe a chicken breast with veggies and rice. But not tonight. Tonight, I had guests.

"You okay with the bed situation?" I asked Paula. "In a couple of days, I can convert the study into—"

She held up her hand. "No, Mark," she said. "It's fine. It really is. We'll make it work."

I nodded.

The fact was, this situation felt weird. I had opened my house to strangers—well, Paula and Mary—and now my place felt cramped, like there wasn't enough room for all of us to be comfortable. I wondered if Paula felt as strange as I did right now.

I owned the condo free and clear; it was all I had left from my business. At one point, I had owned the entire building and a fleet of construction vehicles and other equipment, but now I was down to a decade-old Honda and a three-bedroom condo. Thankfully, I didn't need any more than what I had.

Paula and I rooted around in the refrigerator and pantry; we found enough for a decent dinner. It felt strange to have somebody else in my kitchen, somebody else cooking alongside me. It felt strange, but I didn't hate it. We made it work.

After dinner Paula explained to Mary that they were going to stay with me for a few days. "Yes," she told her daughter. "It has something to do with that bad man. But we'll be safe here—safe with Mister Mark." Hearing that made me feel good, even though I knew my decrepit old man's body wasn't up to protecting anybody. Those days were long ago.

I had gotten lucky earlier with Luke. He had turned his back on me, which gave me an opportunity to get him into a control hold and then into an arm bar. If he had faced me, if we had sparred, I was pretty sure he would have kicked my ass into next week.

Anyway, they got themselves settled for the night. They had the guest bath—which included a combination shower/bath. Paula showered, Mary took a bath, and then they went to bed.

I went to bed as well, trying hard not to think about Paula sleeping in the next room. I didn't know what she was wearing, but I couldn't rid my mind of a picture of her in a short and transparent nightgown. I tried really hard to put that thought out of my mind but I'm a dirty old man so I failed. I thought about Paula, what her body might look like in that nightgown, what her body might feel like.

My dick thought right along with me, rising to the occasion. Tonight it was rock-hard and needy; I jerked off as quietly as I could. When I came, it was the strongest orgasm I had felt for many years.

*****

Paula's story

The weirdness, the strangeness of the situation, continued into the next morning. I got up at the usual time; I had showered the night before, so I got dressed quickly and went into the kitchen to make lunch for Mary and me. Last night Mark showed me where he kept his stuff, so it wasn't too difficult to get the lunches made—though I felt guilty for using up so much of Mark's supplies. I vowed either to go shopping for us or to give him some money. From the car he drove, I guessed that he wasn't rich. I guessed this nice condo probably took most of his salary.

Which led me to my next thought: just how long were Mary and I going to be staying here, leaching off Mark's generosity? We couldn't stay here forever ... but I was afraid to return to our apartment. I was afraid Luke would be waiting for us when we got there.

I heard Mark in the shower. I didn't know what he liked for breakfast. In fact, I didn't know what Mary and I would be having. There was no cereal in the pantry. Shrugging, I scrambled a half-dozen eggs and put some bread in the toaster. Mary would eat scrambled eggs, though I didn't look forward to the face she was going to make when she saw them.

Beggars can't be choosers. That's what I was going to tell her. We were guests in Mark's home—for how long, I had no idea. But as guests, we were going to accept what he gave us. We weren't going to complain about the bed or the pillows or ... anything. Honestly, I expected Mary deal with the situation pretty well. Less than four years ago, we had been living in a shelter. She might not remember everything about those weeks, but I'm sure she remembered how strange—and how difficult—that time was for both of us. Living in Mark's spacious condo was like Heaven compared to the shelter.

Mark came out of his bedroom dressed for the day. He smiled when he saw the eggs awaiting him. His warm eyes crinkled with pleasure. It had been a long time since anyone other than Mary had shown any appreciation for my cooking. I felt my face blushing at his compliments.

Afterwards, I got Mary ready, made sure her lunch was in her backpack, and Mark drove us to her school.

"We'll pick you up about five," he said to my daughter—then he looked at me to make sure I was okay with what he said. I nodded.

"That's right, honey. We'll come get you again and take you back to Mister Mark's house."

"Is that where we're living now?" she asked me. I looked over at Mark, and he moved his head in such a way that he made it clear we were welcome to stay but it was my decision to make. I was surprised at how much he could communicate with just a gesture.

"Yes, honey," I said. "But I'm not sure for how long. We may need to find another apartment to live in."

Mary looked apprehensive. I knew that I needed to focus on providing her with stability, because she already had too much craziness in her young life.

Damn Luke for finding us!

She finally responded. "If we move, what about Mrs. Bitters? Will she still watch me when you need to go to work?"

"We'll have to see, honey. I just don't know right now."

"Okay. But if we have to move, then can we stay with Mister Mark? I like his apartment. It's bigger than ours is." She paused, then continued in an earnest voice. "If we live there, it will be okay if I don't get any more cereal for breakfast. Eggs will be okay. I promise."

Mark snorted. "I think we can get you some cereal for breakfast, Mary. Whether you stay for just a few nights or longer."

Mary's smile beamed back at him. "Thank you. You are really nice—you know that? Thank you, Mister Mark."

"You are most welcome, Mary."

But when she skipped away from us, heading for the school in what looked to be a great mood, he turned to me with a frown on his face.

"We have to talk about Luke," he said.

*****

Mark's story

As we drove to Carson's, I got Matt—the family law attorney—on the phone. I put him on speaker because (a) I didn't want to get pulled over and (b) I wanted to get Paula interacting with him.

Once the introductions were made, I mostly just listened to the two of them talk. They talked about filing a restraining order, about making an appointment for a paternity test, and about what the next few weeks would look like for Paula and Mary, legally speaking.

As for me, Matt advised me to work with the police on the assault charge.

"He's gonna get out soon on bail," Matt told us both. "If he's smart, he'll lay low until the court dates."

"He doesn't strike me as the smartest of men," I said. Then I looked at Paula. "No offense meant."

"None taken," she said, trying for a small smile. She hadn't been smiling during the conversation with Matt. Paula hardly ever smiled; now I thought I understood why. With Luke and the Lambs of Yahweh always lurking in the back of her mind, it would be hard to enjoy life. She was probably always looking over her shoulder to see if her past was catching up to her.

Now it had.

Thank the deity of your choice that my past was firmly behind me. Combat tours. A broken marriage. A failed business. All that pain was firmly in my rearview mirror.

Which freed me up to help Paul with her pain.

I realized that was exactly what I wanted to do. I wanted to help Paula and Mary.

*****

Paula's story

Mark's attorney friend, Matt, was really helpful. He explained what I needed to do, what he would to, and what would probably happen. He told me that it was going to take at least 90 days to get through all the legal stuff we needed to get through—maybe longer, depending on the Court's calendar.

In the meantime, he would help me with filing all the paperwork and scheduling stuff. As I said, he was really helpful. Even though I had never met him, he already felt like a good friend.

We set up an appointment to meet after work the next day.

But that led to another thought—who was going to watch Mary? Her after-school program would watch her until 5 or maybe 5:30 (if I pushed it) but somebody would need to watch her until at least 6:30. Maybe get her dinner. I thought about asking Mrs. Bitters but that would mean Mary would be in an apartment that was right next to where Luke would be looking for her, if he decided to violate the restraining order.

Mark was quick to volunteer. All I needed to do was add him to Mary's official pick-up list, then he could get her either after school or when her after-school program was over. I hated to ask him to keep taking care of us; I felt we should be independent. But I knew that we needed him so I reluctantly said yes.

Not only was Mark feeding us, giving us a roof over our heads, but now he was babysitting Mary as well. I hated to do that to him. If I had any other choice, I would have made it. But I didn't so ... I agreed to his offer.

I couldn't keep relying on Mark, no matter how much he said it was okay. I didn't want to rely on anyone else other than myself. I shouldn't need to. We had been doing fine on our own until Luke drove his pickup truck back into our lives. I consoled myself with the thought that we would get out of Mark's hair just as soon as we possibly could. I would pay him back for his generosity, though it might take a long time for me to do so.