She planted her palms against the counter in front of her just to hold herself up.
“Just know you’re not wanted around here,” the man said. “So you better watch your step. Don’t need no copycat of what your brother did either. Sick sonofabitch.”
Allie’s hackles rose. Now she burned red. “My brother was ten times the man you are, you ignorant backwoods asshole!”
“No, your brother was a sick piece of shit,” the man spat. “And you know what? You look like a worthless piece of shit, too.”
“You don’t know me.”
Allie’s manager appeared by her side, red-faced, confused, and smelling vaguely of liquor. “Allie? What’s the matter? What’s going on?”
But Allie didn’t even look at him.
She was too busy working up spit in her mouth.
CHAPTER 29
BITTY DROVE ALLIE home from Sherwood Foods and, brow furrowed, silently listened to what she had to say. She didn’t interrupt once. In fact, she said nothing on the drive home. Not one word.
But every time Allie glanced at the old woman, she seemed to be gripping the steering wheel even tighter.
She knew she had let the old woman down by acting the way she had, especially after Bitty had gone through the trouble to get her the job. And on her first day no less. Spitting in a customer’s face. Now that took some serious class.
The guy in the supermarket was right: I AM a piece of shit.
Being the new and improved Allie was much more difficult than it looked. Maybe she didn’t have it in her after all.
The angrier Bitty looked, the faster Allie talked, letting more and more words spill out of her mouth. She talked so quickly, she reminded herself of Hannah. For the full twenty minutes of the drive, Allie talked. She talked about what had happened at Sherwood Foods. She talked about how people never liked her. How she’d never fit in. About how crazy her mother had made her brother. About how much she missed him. About how frightened she had always been. About how difficult it was being so hideous and hated.
Most of the words tumbled out before she even knew she was going to say them. She just couldn’t stand for there to be any silence between them. She was mortified that she had just lost control and screwed everything up for herself. She was trembling and desperate and felt like she had nothing more to lose—so she talked.
And Bitty listened.
Silently.
Allie was still talking when the two walked through the back door of the house.
Miss Bitty threw the car keys onto the kitchen counter and walked through the kitchen to the living room. Allie followed her, finally silent. She had run out of things to say. She also felt empty and alone. And very afraid.
“Sit,” Bitty ordered. The television in the living room was tuned in to an episode of CSI, the blue-tinted lights flickering in the otherwise dark room. Obviously, Big Joe had left the television on. It was something she’d heard Bitty tell him not to do on at least three occasions. It was one house rule Bitty didn’t bend on: wasting resources.
“That Joe,” Bitty muttered, switching on a lamp. She searched for the remote control. Finding it between two couch cushions, she grabbed it, lowered the volume, then turned to Allie.
Allie sat, her throat dry. She had ruined everything. There was nothing in the world she wanted more than to live with Miss Bitty. To get tutored, get her GED, maybe go to college. To be girlfriends with Hannah. To have a chance at a real future. At happiness.
She had been wrong about the old woman. It was more than obvious that Miss Bitty was a kind person. The type her mother always told her didn’t exist. The type of person people wanted to be around. The type who people respected.
Exactly the type of person Allie wanted to be, instead of who she was now: the wayward teenage tragic mess of a hooker who couldn’t hold down a decent job because she didn’t have the good sense not to spit in customers’ faces.
“I’m so sorry,” Allie said, staring down at her lap, her voice trembling.
“Oh girlie, I don’t blame you a bit!”
What?
Allie’s jaw dropped. For the first time since Sherwood Foods, she noticed the old woman’s eyes were full of fire. They locked on hers. “Baby, you knew something like that was bound to happen once you came back here, right? I know that it didn’t feel very pretty, but you have to realize that some people are just plain cruel, especially if they feel threatened.” The old woman placed a soft, thin hand in hers. Allie was amazed at how paper-like the woman’s skin felt.
Tears flowed from Allie’s eyes. So many she couldn’t wipe them all away, and some dripped into her lap.
“The only thing we can do is guard ourselves from the inside,” the woman said, handing Allie a tissue.
Easier said than done. If only I knew how . . .
“I am very sorry you had to experience that. If there is one thing I have no patience for, it is bullying of any type.”
“So I can stay here? Really?”
The woman’s eyes softened. “Oh sweetie, of course.” Miss Bitty reached out and hugged her. Allie had never been a hugger. In fact, unless it had been a sexual encounter, there’d only been a few people she’d ever touched in her whole life. But the hug felt incredible.
“You’re shivering,” the old woman said. She withdrew and stood up. “Go draw yourself a nice, warm bath. I’ll bring you a little something to relax you. Then we can talk some more. As much as you need to, okay?”
Allie suddenly wanted to hug the old woman again, but she couldn’t bring herself to reach out, so she did as Miss Bitty told her and got up from the couch. “I’ll do better next time,” she promised.
And she meant it.
“I will do much better. Just watch.”
But Bitty wasn’t listening to her any longer. Something on the television screen had caught her eye. The old woman picked up the remote control and turned up the volume.