Forgive Me

“Just not for you, eh? Wasn’t for me, either. But look at me now—never went to college, and I’ve done all right. Hey, you won’t even need to get a GED if I think what’s going to happen to you happens.”


Nadine caught another flash of Ricardo’s million-dollar smile in the rearview mirror. She was more than inclined to believe Stephen.

With Ricardo driving the speed limit in the middle lane, they got onto I-695 heading south. Nadine wondered where they were going. She wanted to ask, but worried that it might sound pushy or unsure. She wanted Stephen (and Ricardo) to think she was confident and fine with whatever happened next. That was how she was going to play it, how she wanted to come across.

Instead of asking questions, Nadine went back to her phone and those messages on her Facebook wall. It felt good to read them. It felt so good to be missed. Nadine was glad she was gone.

At last they left the highway. They drove through a business district, then through a residential neighborhood, and then into a quieter, darker business district. The coming sunset was a rich tapestry of pinks and yellows stretched across a faded blue sky.

Nadine thought about getting back to Washington in the dark. Where was she going to sleep that night, and the next night, and the next? She’d left nothing in the motel room, and didn’t have a reservation to return. She was living day-by-day. Everything she owned, she carried on her back.

Brick buildings and warehouses made of corrugated steel cast tall shadows on quiet streets. Most people would think twice before walking alone in that part of town.

They kept going. Nadine was relieved that Stephen Macan did not keep his photography studio there. She was completely turned around, and wouldn’t have known she was in Maryland if it weren’t for the GPS app on her phone.

“Are you hungry, Nadine?” Ricardo asked from the driver’s seat. “We got sandwiches up here. Turkey and Swiss. It’s good.”

Stephen looked upset with himself. “I have good instincts for talent, but I sometimes miss the mark on the obvious. I can’t believe I didn’t offer you something. I’m sorry, Nadine. Please. Eat.”

From the center console Ricardo produced a small portable cooler and passed it back to her. She was famished and ate the sandwich in a few large bites.

“So how are you feeling about this?” Stephen asked.

Nadine’s eyes went to her phone. “I guess I’m a bit nervous,” she admitted.

Stephen gave Ricardo a nod. The next thing the driver handed Nadine was a flask.

“Take a few long drinks. You’re going to want something to help take the edge off before your shoot.”

“Thanks,” Nadine said, taking the flask from Ricardo’s hand. She gave a hard swallow and felt the burn rip down her throat. It was straight vodka. She had been unprepared for the sensation, but managed to keep it down. She didn’t even cough, and felt proud of the accomplishment.

“Can I ask you something?” Stephen said.

“Yeah?” Nadine liked how he spoke to her, like an adult, like she mattered. She took another swig from the flask. They were on I-295, still headed south.

“Are you a runaway or something? Be honest. In my many years of doing this business, I’ve seen it all.”

Nadine bit her lip, unsure how to respond.

“Look, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. But there’s no judgment here.”

“Thanks.”

“It’s just that it’s hard out on your own. I mean, if this doesn’t work out—and I’m not saying it won’t—I can be your friend. You look like you could use one.”

“Thanks.” Do you have any other words in your vocabulary, you moron? Nadine couldn’t believe how idiotic she sounded, how juvenile.

“You’re really pretty,” Ricardo said from the front seat. “I think he’s gonna be right about you.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. I do.”

They drove for a bit in silence. Nadine gazed out the window at the unfamiliar landscape. She’d never been to that part of Maryland before and still had no idea where they were headed.

“I ran away,” Nadine said.

Stephen’s full lips crested into a pleased-with-himself smile. “I knew it. Mom or dad?”

Nadine understood the subtext of his question. “Both,” she answered.

“Yeah, well, you’ll show them, right?”

“Right,” Nadine said.

“You got any talent, like can you sing? Done any acting?” Ricardo asked.

Nadine gave a shrug. “I can sing some. I wanted to audition for American Idol, but my mother wouldn’t let me.” You’ll embarrass yourself were her mother’s exact words.

“Yeah? Let’s hear something,” Stephen said.

“What? Sing?”

“Yeah, do what you were going to do for your audition.”

Nadine could hardly speak, let alone muster up the courage to belt out a tune.

“Take another drink. Work up to it.”

Nadine did just that and another. She was feeling more courageous with each sip, but also a little sleepy. Just a little.

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