“Goddamn it, Brooke!” I growled. “Knock it off!” My molars ground against each other, fury spiking in my blood. I’d never experienced anything like that feeling before I had my girls; I loved them fiercely, but in my darker, more hopeless moments, I hated what they demanded of me just as much.
“Sorry,” Brooke said. Her tiny voice trembled. There was just enough light from the store windows to see the flash of fear on my little girl’s face before she buried her head in her blanket.
An aching remorse flooded my chest. “Oh, baby, I’m sorry,” I said. “I shouldn’t have yelled.” She still wouldn’t look at me. “Sweetie, please.” I paused, waiting for her to peek up at me, which she did a moment later. “Want me to get you a treat?” I asked with what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “Maybe some cookies?”
Brooke nodded, still covering most of her face with her blanket.
“Oreos?” I smiled, knowing they were her favorites. She nodded again. “Okay,” I said. “You stay right here with Natalie. I need you to be a good big sister and watch her for me.”
Brooke dropped her blanket to her lap and shook her head. “I don’t want to.” She hated it when I left her alone. I tried not to do it very often, but sometimes, I didn’t have a choice. There were certain things a little girl shouldn’t see her mother do.
“I’ll only be gone a few minutes,” I told her, and my stomach clenched. I pointed to the store. “I’m just going to head inside, grab a few things, and I’ll be right back.”
“I wanna go with you.”
I sighed. “Not this time. You need to stay here. Can you be my brave, big girl and watch your sister?”
Brooke looked to her right, lifted her blanket from her lap, and brushed its edge against her baby sister’s cheek. Natalie, who had finally stopped crying, made a happy, gurgling sound; she loved her big sister so much. I’d hated being an only child; if I was grateful for anything, it was that they’d always have each other.
“Okay,” Brooke squeaked, not looking at me.
“Thanks, sweetie. I promise to be quick.” I slung my empty red backpack over my shoulder and got out of the car into the cold, dark night. At least it’s not the middle of summer, I reasoned. At least I’m not leaving them to swelter in the heat. As though that distinction made any of this okay.
It was early October, and the air felt like it had teeth, nipping at my cheeks. Fat, cheerful-looking pumpkins rested in huge piles up against the building; scarlet leaves on the skinny maples lining the parking lot danced in each new gust of wind. I thought about what I might be doing if I was a normal twenty-year-old girl—I might be in college, planning what costume I would wear for Halloween. I might have a boyfriend who brought me flowers and took me to the movies; I might have a group of girlfriends I shopped with at the mall. I might be carefree and content instead of how I felt right now—how I almost always felt—tired, hungry, and scared.
Despite my apprehension, I waved and smiled at Brooke through the window. She waved back, tentatively, but as soon as I locked the doors, her bottom lip quivered, and I knew she was barely holding it together. When Natalie began to cry again, Brooke leaned over and patted her sister’s small hand.
She’ll be okay, I told myself as I spun around and walked away. They both will. I have to do this. I’ll be back as fast as I can.
I jogged across the parking lot, trying to block out the sound of Natalie’s cries as I entered the building. As the automatic doors shut with a whoosh behind me, I quickly surveyed the immediate area—there was no one else around. At this time of night I hoped there would only be a few employees—a couple of stockers and a cashier at most, a few other shoppers, and maybe a night manager working somewhere in the back. I had to be quick. Casual, but quick.
I strode past the enormous Halloween display, ignoring the bags of candy and decorative plastic skeletons. I grabbed a small cart, which I directed toward the produce section. I filled a clear plastic bag with six apples, carefully looking around before slipping four more into my backpack. I picked up two packages of baby carrots and put one in the cart, one in my bag.
So far, so good. I turned the corner, only to run right into a tall, skinny man with shaggy, shoulder-length blond hair and acne-pocked cheeks. He wore a white, short-sleeve shirt covered by a green apron and brown corduroy pants. He didn’t look much older than me. A small, plastic tag pinned to his shirt said his name was Rick.
“Whoa,” I said, giving him my best smile, even as my heart pounded against my rib cage. “Sorry. Wasn’t looking where I was going.”
Rick smiled, too, revealing slightly crooked, yellow teeth. “No worries.” He surveyed the contents of my cart. “Finding everything all right?”
“Yep. Just picking up a few things I forgot to grab earlier.”
“Let me know if you need anything. I’m over on aisle four.”