Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Liam

Monday morning, just as I promised, several large packages arrive from Amazon, filled with all the essentials we ordered. The expression on Jasmine’s face when she sees the stack of boxes piled outside the apartment door is priceless. It’s like Christmas and her birthday rolled into one.

I carry the boxes inside and set them on the coffee table. Then, after I open all the boxes, I sit and watch her unpack everything. At least now she has some clothes of her own.

I clear a spot in my closet for her to hang her new clothes. I empty out a drawer in the dresser for her to organize her new undergarments. I clear out a drawer in the bathroom for her lotion and make-up. She sets her soap and shampoo and conditioner in the shower. She lines up bottles of hair products on the bathroom counter.

“Finally, I can wash my hair!” she says.

So I leave her to it and disappear into the spare bedroom to lift weights.

The next couple of days pass pretty quietly. We stay holed up in the apartment and find ways to entertain ourselves. I spend a lot of time in the spare bedroom working out. Jasmine spends most of her time catching up on her reading on the Kindle—her new best friend. We make meals together, and we watch movies in the evening. She really has a lot of catching up to do.

My sister-in-law, Beth, makes an appointment for Jasmine to see her OB-GYN, Dr. Shaw, on Thursday. It takes some convincing, but I manage to reassure Jasmine that it’s safe for us to leave the apartment for her doctor’s appointment.

Thursday after lunch, we leave the apartment and head down to the parking garage. I can tell Jasmine’s nervous about going out for her doctor’s appointment, but she doesn’t say anything. She’s wearing blue jeans and a hoodie, and she has the hood pulled up over her head. I hate seeing her so scared. Her pimp has absolutely no idea where she is. He’s not going to miraculously pop up in my building’s underground parking garage and nab her. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t convince her of that.

After we arrive at the doctor’s office, I sit in the waiting room while Jasmine is called back. She’s gone about forty minutes. When she returns, she looks like she can’t wait to get out of here.

I go up to the check-out counter to pay the bill, but the cashier waves me off. “Mrs. McIntyre already took care of it.” She must mean Beth.

“Thanks,” I say, and then we leave.

Jasmine’s quiet on the way out of the building. “How’d it go?” I ask when we’re in the Jeep heading back to the apartment.

She shrugs. “Fine, I guess.”

“When will you get the results?”

“The doctor said she’d call me. She said it shouldn’t take too long.”

I nod. “Good. I’m glad that’s done.” We drive a few more minutes in silence before I broach a subject that’s been weighing on my mind. “How do you feel about going to see your mother?”

Jasmine shoots me an incredulous look. “Are you crazy?”

“She’s your mother, Jasmine. She’s family. Maybe you—”

“She’s a drug addict and a whore.”

“Maybe she’s different now. You’ll never know unless you see her. What if she’s gotten her act together since you left home? What if she’s clean now? Isn’t it worth finding out?”

Jasmines shakes her head. “You’re nuts.”

“Isn’t it worth a try? I’m just suggesting we go see her and find out for ourselves.”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “Fine.”