Chapter 1
Wednesday, September 4
Molly stared at herself in the mirror. Something was missing in her life, but she couldn’t name it. She had a loving partner and an amazing father. Her job challenged and fulfilled her. Yet despite all the blessings, she wondered what she lacked. Tad, Blue, and the others in her life deserved better from her.
She scrubbed at her eyes, sighing and washing her face before exiting into their condo. Over the past year, she’d got used to the place and it no longer felt overwhelmingly luxurious. Tad had been happy to let her furnish and decorate it. So it had art by friends on the wall, and quilts on the leather furniture.
Tad had gone to his office already to meet with someone from the city administration, so she made coffee, cooked herself breakfast and headed to work.
The car represented another thing she’d grown used to all too quickly. A tiny electric vehicle representing the end of standing in the cold waiting for the bus. She rolled out of the parking garage and waited until the door closed behind her. The concern about security jarred with her experience of the street where there was none. But she’d also had her share of encounters that helped her reconcile with it.
Molly pulled out onto Victoria West going down the hill. Rain made the road slick, but she had no issue with traffic. One nice thing about working the later shift at the agency where she still worked, putting bandaids on problems needing changes in the system. She’d considered applying for a position with Bylaws when they’d advertised for social workers but changed her mind when she saw the job description.
As she turned onto the ramp to Tranquille, a big black pickup roared passed her. Molly hit the brakes, but the truck clipped her front fender and sent her into the post beside the barrier. Her car swung around and tipped over. The seatbelt trapped her as the airbags pummeled her.
Molly gasped for air and peeled her fingers off the steering wheel. People ran up to her.
“Are you hurt?” An older man said shouted through the closed window.
Molly rolled the window down, so she didn’t need to shout back. “I’m alive.” She took stock of her body. Her ribs and shoulder ached where the seatbelt grabbed her and her head rang from the airbags, but nothing felt broken. Glass littered the window and door below her.
“Wait a few minutes, fire and rescue are on their way.” The man had his phone out. “Did anyone get a license on that truck?”
The crowd around her car shook their heads. Some of them held phones to their ears. Molly should call work, but her purse lay out of reach in the glass.
Police arrived before the fire department, but not by much. They shooed the crowd away and made sure traffic didn’t back up on the ramp. The rescue people tipped the car back onto its wheels, and Molly undid her seatbelt and stepped out the door. Paramedics checked her over and decided she was bruised but nothing requiring a trip to the hospital.
Molly rescued her purse and called Don.
“It might be better if you went home.” Don said. “But it’s up to you.”
A few years ago, Molly would have insisted on working. “I’ll call Tad and get him to pick me up. I’ll be in tomorrow.”
“Make it the day after, you’ll be sore tomorrow. If you’re feeling guilty about not coming in, I’ll send you a grant application to look at.”
“Sure, fine.” Molly rolled her eyes. Grant applications were a necessary evil, but unfortunately Blue had taught her how to write effective applications and now had become a regular part of her work. She phoned Tad and struggled against the sudden onset of tears. “I’ve been in a crash; can you come and get me? I’m outside the Henry Grube Education Centre.”
“I’ll be right there.” Tad responded.
A police officer came over after the ambulance left.
“You up to giving a statement, ma’am?”
Molly stared at him. Ma’am? “A black truck cut me off and ran me into that post.” She pointed to where the car still lay on its side.
“Did you get a look at its license plate?” He held his pen over his notebook hopefully.
“No. All I can say is it was big and black.”
“Okay.” He sighed. “Name?”
“Molly Callister.” She handed him her driver’s license for the rest of the questions. He copied the information carefully and handed it back to her. “My sister says you saved her life. Got her off the street and clean and sober.”
Molly looked at him again. His skin was somewhere between her dusky tone and Tad’s white. Black hair peeked out under his hat. “It’s nice to know I’ve made a difference.”
“I became a cop to make a difference.” He frowned. “Not sure I am.”
“Keep trying, officer.” Molly took the card he handed her. ‘Constable Stu Collins’. “You never know.” The officer left looking puzzled.
Tad showed up ten minutes later and handed her a travel mug.
“Tea from our meeting. Doris was concerned about you.”
Molly sipped at the sweet tea. Normally she liked it without so much sugar, but today it tasted perfect.
“Do you want to go home, or come to my office?” Tad guided her to the car.
“Your office would be better.” Molly clutched her purse to keep her hands from shaking. “Do I need to call someone about the car?”
“Doris has already contacted a tow truck. She’ll help you with ICBC too.”
Doris had everything organized by the time Molly arrived. The insurance people were helpful and even asked if Molly was okay. She gave them the name of the tow company so they could send someone to check the car.
In Tad’s office, Molly drank tea and worked on the grant proposal Don had forwarded to her. She tightened up the language and made the goals clearer and more tailored to the need of the grant. Years working on the street with the most vulnerable, and she still had to explain how they were going to keep the clients under control. All the agency wanted was more spaces for people to spend their time, and activities to engage them.
At the end of the day, she had it in better shape and emailed it back to Don. Then Molly cheated and phoned in an order from Tad’s favourite restaurant. They’d pick it up on the way home. The day in Doris’s quiet competent company had driven away the shakes, but now Molly ached and didn’t feel like cooking. Tad had been busy all day and would be tired.
“How’s it going?” Molly asked as she walked with him to his car.
“Frustrating.” Tad helped her into the passenger seat. “I’m spending my life in meetings. I helped more cooking at the Loop.”
“If changing the world was easy, someone would have done it already.” Molly leaned her head back. “We’re picking up supper at On the Rocks. I don’t think I have the energy to cook.”
“Fair enough.” Tad drove up the hill. “I would have made supper, but I don’t mind a night off.”
Molly’s stomach rumbled as she held their food in the elevator. Tad unlocked the door and let them into the condo. She put the food on the table and poured water to go with it.
The table had been a surprise from Tad. He’d found it at a thrift shop. Solid wood, but filled with years of scratches and dents. Part of a math problem was impressed in the soft pine. She ran her fingers over it, imagining the child working on homework with a parent nearby to help. She closed her eyes and breathed out silently so not to worry Tad.
He lifted out their meals and passed Molly’s over to her. Tad smiled at her and for the moment her worries vanished. Whatever happened, she’d get through it with Tad’s help.
***
Johan stumbled down the stairs to his basement apartment with one hand on the already greasy wallpaper. The door wasn’t locked. He never locked it, too much hassle to dig the key out of his pocket again. It was bad enough struggling to unlock the front door.
The place looked like it had been ransacked by dozens of racoons high on meth. So about normal. He opened the fridge hoping something to eat, or better yet drink, had miraculously appeared while he’d been out.
Nope
He opened a can he’d got from the food bank and dug through the mess to find a spoon, then ate out of the can. The neighbours started up their gaming. All he could hear was the shooting and swearing. He pulled his hat down over his ears and pushed the collar up, but they couldn’t stop the barrage. Johan ate mechanically until the can was clean, then threw it at the wall where it joined the pile of crap built up over the months since the neighbours had moved in. Sweeping garbage off the couch, Johan lay down, curled into a fetal position and put his fingers in his ears. He prayed tonight would be the night he died, but God hadn’t answered any of his other prayers, so he didn’t hold up much hope.
ISBN 978-1-998703-07-4
books2read.com/u/47yGkj Here’s a link to a landing page where you can choose what retailer to buy the ebook from.