I WALK AIMLESSLY, SNATCHES OF CHRISTMAS music reaching me from open shop doors. It feels as if New York has pirouetted seamlessly from Thanksgiving straight into holiday festivities, easy as changing from pumpkin latte to cinnamon spice. I think I just royally screwed up. I mean, I’m walking away single and off the hook about the recipe, so I guess you could objectively call that a win, but it certainly doesn’t feel like one. I’m heartbroken—and worse, Gio is too.
I don’t want to go home, I don’t know what to do with my Monday. I’m ghost-walking without really seeing where I’m going until raised voices in a side alley pull my attention back outside of myself. A girl, seventeen or eighteen at most, and a guy who looks a little older snatching her phone from her, shoving the screen in her frightened face, close enough for her to have to jerk her head backward against the wall. He’s mad about some message she’s received, demanding details, calling her names no one should be called. Nobody else has noticed, or if they have they’re not willing to intervene. I pause, feeling sick as I’m mentally thrown straight back into life with Adam. How I wish someone had intervened for me. I see the guy step uncomfortably close to her, his forearm in front of him across her shoulders, pinning her to the wall.
“Get your hands off her right now.”
The words bark out of me on instinct, and they both turn my way as I stalk toward them in the alley, unwilling to let him see my fear. He rocks his upper body back and throws his arms out to the sides as if to question who the hell I think I am, and she shakes her head, a tiny movement designed to send me on my way, telling me not to involve myself. I know that look all too well, and cobra-like fury rears up inside me, swallowing the fear.
“Mind your business, grandma,” he says, his chin coming up, all bravado and laughing. “Nothing to see here, is there, Jade?”
I step closer and a single tear rolls down her cheek as she shakes her head.
“Nothing. Honestly, it’s fine,” she whispers. “You can go.”
“Give her her phone back and get lost,” I hiss. “Or I’ll call the police. You choose.” I pull my cellphone from my back pocket. “You’ve got exactly ten seconds.”
He stares at me, desperate not to do as he’s told by a woman twice his age and a good foot shorter, but I don’t flinch a muscle. I’ve dealt with worse than you, shithead, I think, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Seven. Eight.” I tap my phone screen into life and stare him down.
He all but growls as he bares his teeth and chucks the girl’s phone on the ground as he shoulders past me.
“Stupid bitch,” he says, right down my ear.
“Eat glass,” I spit back, watching him leave.
I push my cellphone back into my pocket and turn to the girl. “Jade, right?” I pick up her phone and wipe it on my jeans before handing it back to her.
“Thanks,” she says. “I was all right, you didn’t need to do that.”
“Oh, I really did,” I say, matter-of-fact. She passes her hand down her face and I see she’s shaking. My heart rages.
“Let’s sit for a minute, give him time to bugger off.” I nod toward a couple of concrete steps leading to the side entrance of one of the stores.
“Can I tell you something?” I say, sitting alongside her.
She shrugs, hunched forward, hands clasped around her phone.
“Is it to dump him?”
“Oh God, yes. Drop him like a stone,” I say, no hesitation. “Because he won’t change. He’ll only get worse, and you’ll get more and more isolated.”
She takes a slow breath. “He doesn’t hit me, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
I nod. “My ex didn’t hit me either. Violence isn’t the only form of abuse. How long have you been together?”
She sits back and sighs, resting her head against the door. “Seven months. Maybe eight.” She slants a look at me. “He isn’t like that with anyone else.”
“Let me guess,” I say. “Everyone thinks he’s a right laugh.”
She nods.
“And he doesn’t like your friends, so it’s easier to just not see them.” I don’t phrase it as a question, saving her the bother of trying to defend the indefensible.
“My ex took everything from me. For the last year we were together I didn’t have a cellphone, or a bank card, or a door key. He dismantled my entire life, made me doubt myself, and I blamed myself for the way he treated me. He called me his little mouse, because I spent my days and my nights scurrying around the place trying not to do or say the wrong thing, desperate not to make him angry.”
Jade finally looks at me properly, and I can see she’s listening and, in parts, relating. Hopefully she’s too young to have gone too far down this black hole, and maybe she’s also too young to hear some of my unvarnished truths, but I can see her teetering on the edge of real trouble and I feel like it’s my job to stand guard.
“Jade, this will not get better,” I say. “I stayed with my ex for two years, and the truth is I’m still looking over my shoulder. I finally left him on Christmas Day, threw all my most precious belongings into a suitcase while he was passed out from vodka.”
“And you’re all right now?”
I lift one shoulder. “I’m working on it. Challenging assholes in alleyways, that sort of thing.”
She rolls her eyes. “You made a good Marvel superhero.”
I suppose I did, looking back. “Next time you see him, look him square in the eye and tell him—”
“To eat glass?” she cuts across me, wide-eyed, and half laughs.
“Schitt’s Creek inspired,” I say.
I discovered Schitt’s Creek not long after arriving in New York. The beloved Rose family felt like a safe gang to hang out with until I was strong enough to face the world again. Sometimes I’d leave it on low all night in the background, just so I’d see familiar faces if I woke up in a cold sweat.
“My mom watches that,” she says.
Way to make me feel ancient, Jade, I think. Coupled with her jerk boyfriend calling me “grandma,” I might need to invest in a decent night cream.
“Does she know what’s been going on?”
She shakes her head. “She’s a nurse. She doesn’t need my shit on top of everything else she has to deal with.”
What I hear is that Jade loves her mum and I want to tell her to talk to her, to make the most of their time together while she can, but I think I’ve handed out enough unsolicited advice for one day.
“Want me to walk with you?” I say, sensing she’s ready to go.
She shakes her head. “I’m good.”
Back on the sidewalk, she lingers before walking away. “Thank you for…you know. For stopping.”
“That’s okay,” I say.