I join them at the table, giving Nicole a plate and tucking into my own food. Looking up, I see her just staring at me.
“What?”
One of her eyebrows raises. That’s it. That’s all I get from her. Unfortunately, as her sister, I know what that means, and in a nutshell, she’s not letting this go.
I finally roll my eyes, giving up. “It’s not love. We don’t know each other well enough.” My voice quiets as I admit the one thing I haven’t even said to myself yet. “But… it… could be. Eventually.”
“I knew it!” she shouts and Carson looks up from his plate.
“Know what, NicNic?” he asks around a mouthful of food, blowing crumbs as he talks.
“Knew your mommy is a big fat liar.”
He looks over at me, his eyes glancing over my whole body. “Mommy not fat.”
I ruffle his hair, laughing at how literal he takes things.
“You’re right,” Nicole admits. “But she is a liar.” Turning back to me, she crosses her arms over her chest. “So, what’s the problem?”
“You know the problem. I already told you.”
“What? That he’s your boss? That he’s older than you? So what? From everything you’ve said he sounds amazing.”
“He is.” I can admit that much. “But he also has made it very clear that there is a no fraternization policy at work and that means even for him.”
Nicole takes a bite of her pancakes while making a noise that can only be interpreted as disagreement. “That is a load of crap. He made the rules. He can break the rules. He just needs you to give him a reason.”
“No way. I’m not in the game of trying to convince a man why I’m good enough for him. I either am or I’m not. But I don’t have time to play games. I will never do that again.”
She lifts her sleeve to scratch her shoulder and that’s when I see it. Bruises. Bright yellow and purple bruises on her bicep. My heart drops and my whole body runs cold. That can’t be what I think it is. Oh please, don’t let that be what I think it is.
“Nic,” I say slowly, my eyes glued to her arm. “What happened?”
Looking down at where her shirt is raised, Nicole’s face reddens and she pulls her sleeve down quickly, stumbling over her words. “Oh um. I fell.”
“You fell.” I’ve heard this excuse before and only on television or in movies. It’s practically a giveaway for a domestic violence situation. The look on her face, her terrified expression, her refusal to make eye contact are even bigger clues that she’s lying to me. “Nicole, it looks like you have bruises in the shape of finger marks on your arm.”
“What? No. It was at the gym. I fell over a weight on the floor and rammed my arms into this weird machine. It had this odd sort of shape. I hit it just right. I’m fine. It’s fine. Don’t worry about me.”
She keeps yanking on her sleeve, making sure it’s in place. And suddenly weird comments she’s made for the last couple of months start flooding back to me. Like how Jeremy refuses to leave her side at parties. How he likes “showing her off” in public. How she made last second plans to visit using Carson’s birthday as an excuse even though it’s such a long drive. How her phone has been blowing up all weekend and she refuses to answer unless she’s in private.
I can’t believe this. My baby sister is dating a guy who abuses her. I have no doubt. I just don’t know what to do about it.
“Nicole,” I say slowly trying not to scare her off. I’m not sure what else to do. “It’s not fine. Those are finger marks from someone putting their hands on you. Was it Jeremy? Are you afraid of him? If you need to stay here for a while—”
“I’m not lying,” she interrupts a little too quickly. “You don’t know. You’ve never even met him. Don’t accuse him of something like this. I swear I was at the gym and I fell.”
I nod slowly, unconvinced but needing some time to regroup. She’s safe for the moment. “Okay. But you know if you need something, or if you’re afraid or can’t get out, I’ll do anything to help you.”
She slams her fork onto the table, which is completely uncharacteristic for her normally even keel demeanor. “I don’t need your help.” Pushing away from the table, she quietly adds, “I have to hit the road soon. I’m going to take a shower.”
I watch her storm off, slamming the bathroom door closed behind her.
Having lost my appetite, I drop my fork on my plate. Of all the issues I ever expected my sister to have, being in an abusive relationship is never one that crossed my mind. I have no idea what I’m supposed to do now.
SEVENTEEN
Paul
It’s technically my day off and I should be sleeping away the weekend of manual labor, but I want to be here for the grand re-opening today.
There’s not actually a celebration beyond my own excitement. Banners and streamers were not only out of my budget but didn’t seem necessary. Mostly I want to be here to see the reaction on people’s faces when they see the updates. Plus, we still have a little bit of organization to do on the shelves and I’d like to get that all done.
Having been employed here longer than the rest of us, Tammy knows pretty much all the history of this place. And she says she doesn’t remember the last time there was a fresh coat of paint on the walls, let alone actual renovations, so the changes really seem to excite her. Personally, I think she just had a good time doting on all the football players this weekend and is still reveling in the memories of that day. Whatever keeps her happy while she’s here.
On the other hand, something’s wrong with Kiersten. She’s been acting strange since she walked in the door, sort of downtrodden and distracted. It’s a complete one-eighty from the other day. I want to ask her about it because I’m honestly worried about her, but we’ve been busy getting ready to open up I haven’t had time. Plus, I’m not really sure it’s my place. I shut her down pretty quick when we almost kissed. Drawing her back in seems like giving mixed signals.
As soon as the door is unlocked, it swings open and our numero uno patron comes walking in, right on cue. Before the door even closes behind him, he stops, mouth wide open in shock.
“Whoa,” Dwayne breathes, as he looks around the room taking in all the changes.
“You like?” I call out, hoping he gives me the answer I want after all that time and money.
“I feel like I walked into a fancy place.”
“You’re about to have your mind blown then.” Tammy points to the back corner next to the stage. “Check out the new pool table.”
His eyes widen. “I love pool. Can I get one of those fancy ales, too?” he adds as he takes off across the room to check out the new set up.
“Coming right up,” Kiersten replies before grabbing his drink from the small fridge. “Thank god for small miracles. I was sure he’d never leave that dartboard.”
I blow out a breath, releasing some of the nervous tension I’ve been carrying around now that I know things are being well received. If Dwayne can be swayed, there’s hope.
Over the next couple of hours, a few customers trickle in; some new, some familiar faces. The increased traffic probably has less to do with the number of people and more to do with them staying longer. That’s exactly what I was hoping for when I splurged on comfortable furniture. So far, everything is going well for our first night post-reno.