Page 20 of All the Ugly Things
Ellen took one hard, long look at me, and frowned. “How about we go for a walk?”
And that right there, was when I started liking her.
Now, we met up once a month. I knew she kept track of me because she always mentioned my AA attendance and asked how Nancy was doing. Apparently she referred parolees to her whenever she could.
Tonight, I hurried down Ingersoll to the restaurant where she told me to meet her, and like I’d done every day since I was released, tried to remember how to act like I belonged.
Paranoia and survival habits weren’t easily kicked with the taste of clean air and the lack of bars or prison guards hovering close. It’d been almost ten months since my release and I still felt the looks and sneers from the guards when I asked them questions, as if I was a step up from gum on the bottom of someone’s shoe.
They treated me like I was nothing.
In there, I was.
Now, it was difficult on the best days to remember I was anything. On the worst days, when memories pelted me in my dreams and then turned into nightmares, I knew I was less than that.
The air was crisp, and I curled my cardigan with holes forming in the elbows tighter around my stomach. Des Moines was prettier than I imagined it would be, not that I’d done much thinking about it at all, but I heard some of the inmates from here talk about it. They said it was small and a nowhere city with nothing good to do, but I liked it.
Much smaller than Chicago, sure, but it had a cool vibe filled with growth like they were trying to keep young people instead of outpricing everything so they had to move away.
After my required minimum stay in the halfway house, Ellen helped me find my current home. Sure, it was roach-infested and probably about ready to collapse with the next powerful thunderstorm, but it was within walking distance to classes and pretty much anywhere else I wanted to go. Outside of having to take the bus to work and the grocery store, I could walk everywhere.
I found Teddy’s, the restaurant where I was meeting Ellen and felt a rush of warmth as soon as I opened the doors and entered. There were a few people waiting on benches and my back went straight as I passed them.
Head straight ahead. Eyes too. Don’t look at anyone you’re not intending to.
Candace taught me the rhyme the first day she sat next to me. I’d been terrified I’d be forced to do unspeakable things considering how old she was and how much it was clear even to a newbie she was respected. I quickly learned it was just that. As one of the oldest women in prison, Candace helped people get acclimated. Didn’t mean she wouldn’t take you down. She was still tough enough to if she felt like it, but thankfully she’d never felt like that with me.
The memory made me shiver and I squeezed my eyes closed, blanking it out.
You’re not there. It’s okay to glance at someone. Smile.
Nancy’s voice poked through. Reminding me how to acclimate. Still, smiles felt stretched and fake and more like I was cringing. I even practiced them in the mirror. A crooked, broken smile to match the rest of my broken parts.
It was better for all most days if I didn’t try.
I headed toward the hostess stand. I was right on time but Ellen would have been early, either knowing how anxious I got when I had to wait in a crowd or because she believed being on time was being late. Either way, it worked for me.
“Two for Ellen Porter. I think she’s already here?”
“Yes, ma’am. Follow me to your table.”
She was sitting in a back corner where there’d be little traffic. God, some days I loved her. I didn’t know if she cared because it was her job and she really wanted to help people or if it was because she liked me. Either way, she always seemed to do the simplest things I appreciated.
Far from the bathrooms and kitchen, few people would walk by us. More, I spotted the back of her head before I saw her face because she left me the seat where I could see everything.
My racing pulse from the entryway and long walk slowed to a more normal rhythm by the time we reached her, and I slid into the booth the hostess gestured to.
“Thank you.” I glanced at her name tag. “Michelle.”
“You’re welcome. Enjoy your meal.” She grinned. One that wasn’t wonky and crooked and left me to reach for my ice water.
“Nice walk?”
“It was.” I set down my water. Considered trying on a smile but it was too much work. “I don’t usually see you on a Friday.”
She shrugged. “Nothing else going on, figured we could catch up before your shift at Judith’s. How’s that going anyway?”
If Chaz hadn’t already told Judith about the incident with the drunk guys last night, he would. Judith would lose her mind and tell Ellen. If anyone thought I couldn’t handle it, I’d be looking for another job and I didn’t want that. I didn’t mind it there. It was easy work for crappy tips, but I didn’t want to start job-hopping and seem undependable to future employers.
