5. Willow

I spenda lot of time window shopping. I see the beautiful blouses and floaty summer dresses on the mannequins. I tell myself that one day I will be able to walk into one of those stores and buy a beautiful dress. I can dream. Sometimes I think it"s a pipe dream. I work hard and save what money I can. I don"t need much, and it helps a lot that my job is residential. I wouldn"t have been able to afford an apartment in a nice neighborhood, so I"m grateful for that. It"s just that sometimes I want to be me again. The memories of why I keep my head down remind me of why I don"t want to be the little rich girl I used to be.

I take one last look at the pretty green dress with the little white flowers before I turn away and look out at the heavy traffic in the city. The bus doesn"t take me anywhere, but I sit down on the bench at the stop. It"s empty, except for me. The sun is beating down on my head, so I lift my face and enjoy the warmth. It"s not often that I get a day off. The extra shifts gives me a little more money to hide in case I have to run again. I"ve only been running for a short time, but already, I"m tired. I know Marcus and his men will be looking for me.

I wrinkle my nose as a private bus drives by, the fumes nearly choking me. I slap a hand over my mouth and nose and shoot up from the bench. Boston Common is across the street, so I decide to head there. I sit by the pond and watch the ducks and whatever other animals show up.

It"s a nice quiet day, and later I will watch the Boston Bay Vikings minor league team on the television. I told Mrs. Southern that I would only watch with her as long as she didn"t tell her grandson. My elderly friend had lit up at that remark, so I wished I"d kept my mouth shut.

I told myself not to think about Nikoli Southern"s toned body, hot and sweaty after the game. The man makes me nervous. The way his eyes focus on me like I"m the only one he"s thinking about. He makes my heart flutter. No matter how many times I try to talk myself out of looking at him, my eyes always find him. I look forward to our coffee date.

* * *

Because we are watchingthe game together on the TV in the media room, I"m to call Mrs. Southern, Martha. She smiled in delight as I tried her name out.

The woman knows what she wants too. She reminded me not to forget to pour melted chocolate over the salted popcorn. As if I"d forget. My charge is more competent than I am most days. At least, that"s how it feels. I know she has early onset dementia, a terrible disease with no cure.

I smile as I carry the popcorn and alcohol-free beer into the room. Martha rides roughshod over the other residents when it"s game night. Some join her to watch the game and others grumble about missing their own favorite program. Martha has a small TV on the wall in her room, but for the game, it must be on the big screen. She reminds me of my brother and college football. I swallow hard and try to put him out of my mind, which isn"t easy.

A frown appears on Martha"s face, so I force a smile. "I remembered the chocolate."

"Hmm, I can see that." The noise on the TV distracts her, so I take the seat she"s reserved for me.

I smile at the way Martha always gets her way. Maybe it"s because she doesn"t ask for anything except the TV on game night. She"s the ideal resident. I try to keep her away from other dementia patients because she gets depressed after spending an afternoon with some of them. She knows what"s coming. No words of wisdom will change that perspective. I know it and she knows it.

A huge smile lights up her face as she stares at the big screen. I follow her gaze, even though I can hear the crowd, I know the team is on the ice. Nikoli makes my knees weak and other parts of my body wake up. In reality, I get nervous and twitchy around him. I"ve seen the way he looks at me. Maybe it"s time to start living again.

I twitch and squeeze my legs together as I watch the man in question. He"s tall, with broad shoulders that are more filled out by the gear he wears for protection. I swallow, hoping the camera moves in closer. I feel eyes on me and realize that Martha is no longer watching the pre-game chatter, she"s watching me with a knowing look on her face. A blush works it's on to my cheekbones .

"Nikoli"s a good boy, Willow," she says quietly, her eyes back on the game. "He"ll take care of you." She pats my knee. "No need to run anymore."

My gaze catches hers. "I know someone in trouble when I see it." Pause. "You look a lot like the missing girl from Baton Rouge."

My heart starts pounding in my chest and I can"t catch my breath. I blink a few times, trying to bring the game back into focus. "What?" I croak.

"Oh, don"t worry. I haven"t said anything, and I won"t. Not even to my grandson. I know there must be a very good reason why you are here." She pats my knee again. "Don"t worry about that. Anyway, Nikoli would help you whether or not anything else happens between you two."

"I can"t talk about it." Blood thunders in my ears as I force myself to calm down. The last thing I need is another panic attack.

"Keep breathing, Willow. I"m sorry I brought it up. I just wanted you to know you"re not alone. I won"t tell anyone."

Take a deep breath. Slow exhale.

"Marcus, my uncle, wants me back so he can control me. I"m not going. It"s his fault that I"ve lost everything." That"s not the word I wanted to use, but it"s the only one I could think of that wouldn"t set off alarms in Martha"s head. "He"s not a nice man. Not at all. Let"s just leave it at that and watch the game."

Martha nods slowly. "Nikoli is a very good distraction."

"I agree."

"So is Dario," Martha adds.