Underestimated (7 page)

uniformed man with a gun was one of the others.

“I’m not sure I have figured that out myself yet,

sheriff,” I said, and busied myself wiping down the

counter in front of me.

I wished someone else would come in, preferably

the same sex as me.

He snorted. “You can call me Dawson,” he said,

and I blushed again. What the hell is wrong with me?

I only smiled and pretended to be busy. He read

his paper, and I was happy to see the three older men that

seemed to drink my coffee faster than I could make it,

come in for their morning cup of Joe. I knew them by name

because Starlight had told me, and although they were all

exceptionally friendly, they never really spoke to me. I

think that is why I liked them so much.

I was getting a little nervous when another group

of men came in, pouring coffee and eating the pastries.

How the hell was I supposed to remember who ate what,

and how much to charge each of the five construction

workers? I was now alone with nine men, and for

absolutely no reason I felt extremely uneasy.

I was never so happy in my life to see Lauren

come bouncing in. She got a cup of coffee and sat on the

stool behind the counter with me.

“I almost commented on you being up so early, but

I forgot that you rise with the chickens every morning,” I

smiled.

She licked the strawberry filling from her pastry.

“I have always gotten up with the chickens. My dad used

to deliver the newspaper, and I was forced to get out of

bed at five in the morning to learn some responsibility,”

she explained.

I laughed. “How did that work out for you?”

“Well, I suck with my money, and I tend to do

things on a whim without thinking them through, but I did

inherit his inability to sleep once the sun came up.”

I left Lauren to replenish the one coffee machine

that the men seemed to be the fondest of. Of course it was

the plain old black coffee without any flavoring.

“What are you doing after work?” Lauren asked.

Oh, no. I am not going to any more bars with you.

“I am going shopping for some clothes,” I

answered.

“Really? Where you going?”

“I’m not sure. I was hoping there was something

more around here than the dollar general store.”

“There isn’t. We have to go into Blain for that.

They have a really nice mall. I’ll go with you.”

I laughed at her audacity but was really quite

envious of it.

Chapter 3

By noon the coffee shop had cleared out, and I

found myself bored. I was anxious to get started on the

much needed organization of the store, but decided to wait

until Monday to tackle it. I was still getting traffic and was

busier than any day that I had been there.

Lauren and I went into the much bigger town and

shopped. I realized going from store to store that I had

never in my life shopped for myself. When I was growing

up, I wore hand me downs and things from the local

church or Salvation Army. After I married Drew, my

shopping was done for me, and I never got to pick anything

out for myself.

I felt extremely joyful when I picked out new

socks. I had spent the last six years in pantyhose or thigh

high stockings. I wasn’t allowed to wear socks. They

weren’t attractive enough. I was even excited about the

cute little cotton panties. If I was allowed to wear panties

with Drew they had to be sexy, lacy thongs that I hated.

I stood in front of the rack with my hand on the

underwear with tiny pink flowers as my mind once again

drifted back in time.

Thank God, Lauren pulled my thoughts away rather

quickly when she noticed I was off in another land again.

“Maybe if you talk about it, it might help,” she

said, touching my hand and bringing me back to the

present.

I shook my head. “Sorry, I’m fine,” I lied to her

and myself.

“I’m going to carry my bags in and I will be over

with some beer,” Lauren said, once we were in my

driveway.

I took the tags from my five new outfits and ran my

hand across the leather of my new hiking boots. I thought

they would support my ankles a little better when I

climbed down the rocky terrain to the beach. I would have

rather it been a flip-flop kind of beach, but it wasn’t, and I

was starting to like it just fine the way it was. I sat on my

rock and watched the waves crash against the rocks for at

least an hour every evening. My new friend, John, was

often there, and he and his dog always stopped to talk to

me.

Lauren and I sat out on my deck and listened to

country music and drank a six pack of beer.

“Levi asked me for your number,” Lauren said,

propping her feet up to the adjacent chair.

“Don’t you dare,” I scolded.

“Don’t you want to start dating? I mean you have to

be getting frustrated by now.”

“I am not the least bit frustrated,” I lied, but didn’t

truly know that I was lying until that moment. Maybe that

would help, maybe I did need some relief, but I didn’t

need Levi or any other man to take care of it. I was

perfectly capable of it myself.

“How long were you married,” she nosily

continued.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Six

years.”

“Wow. What did you do get married when you

were eighteen?”

I didn’t have to answer that question or any more.

Her cellphone rang, and it was Joel telling her he was at

her house, wanting to know where she was.

“Gotta go, duty calls,” she joked.

I sat on the deck and stared off into the moonlit

ocean. I dumped my warm beer over the side railing and

heated a nice cup of Starlight’s relaxing tea instead. I

wrapped myself up in my fuzzy blanket and listened to the

waves as they collided with the boulders below. This

along with my tea was just what I needed to unwind. It

didn’t last long when my mind reflected on Lauren’s

comment about getting married when I was eighteen.

I was exactly eighteen. Drew was there to claim

me on my eighteenth birthday. I thought about the weeks

before my birthday, and how much the anticipation burned

my soul. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing that night as

I lay in my thin walled bedroom and listened to the nice

looking man who offered my father twenty five thousand

dollars to marry me.

I didn’t even know who he was. I had seen him

once. He had come to our worn out school and did a

seminar after donating five thousand dollars. I

remembered sitting right in front of him and listening to

him talk about success and getting out of our situations and

how valuable our educations were for our future. I

admired him.

I shook my head at how infatuated I was with him

that day. He was so cute and dressed like nothing I had

ever seen before. He had actually inspired me. I no longer

wanted to stay in that poverty stricken town. I wanted out.

I wanted to wear fancy clothes like he wore, and drive

expensive cars.

He sat beside me on the bottom bleacher once the

gym had cleared out. I was in no hurry to go home and

often hung around school to keep from it.

“You’re a very pretty girl,” he said, and my faced

turned the darkest shade of red possible.

“Thanks,” I said with my head down. How could

he say that I was pretty? I was wearing Good Will clothes,

and my sneakers were lace-less. My hair was too long and

straggly looking, and I didn’t own any makeup. Not that my

dad would have ever let me wear it anyway. He didn’t

want me to be a whore like my mom.

I should have run that day. I should have started

walking and never looked back.

“You should look at me when I am talking to you,”

he said, and I looked up. I had to. I was already afraid of

him, and I didn’t even know his name.

“I’m Drew,” he said.

“I’m Morgan,” I replied and looked down and then

right back up.

He laughed, and I didn’t think I had ever seen such

perfect teeth in my life.

“I am going to marry you, Morgan,” he said. I

remember choking on my own saliva.

I got up and walked out of the gym, listening to him

laugh as I did.

Why would he say that? Why would someone like

him want to marry someone like me?

I went to bed that night thinking about Drew, and

living the life of luxury. I fell asleep dreaming of the

perfect life with the man with the perfect teeth. That dream

soon turned into a nightmare when I swore I heard him in

my house talking to my father. It was late, very late, and

the thin walls did nothing to conceal the private

conversation.

I could tell by my dad’s slurring words that he was

drunk. I lay on the mattress on my floor, trying to stop my

racing heart.

“So you’re telling me that you want to marry my

daughter, and you’re willing to pay me twenty five

thousand dollars to do so?” I couldn’t believe what I was

hearing. I wasn’t property. He couldn’t sell me. I knew he

was going to punch him in the face and tell him to get the

hell out of his house.

“That’s right, Mr. Willow, but there is one

condition that is nonnegotiable.”

“What?” my father asked.

“She has to be pure. If she’s not, I don’t want her.”

“You mean a virgin?”

“Yes, that is exactly what I mean.”

“Well I can guarantee that she is, or she better

damn well be anyway, but I didn’t say she was for sale.”

“And what are you going to do with her when she

turns eighteen? You know that you are going to lose her

welfare and food stamps.”

“I didn’t say she wasn’t for sale either, did I?”

What? This couldn’t be happening. You don’t sell

people. This wasn’t some third world country. This was

America. Things like that don’t happen here.

“Watch you want a girl like her for anyway? I

betcha you could have any girl you wanted.”

“Oh I could, but, it’s time for me to settle down.”

“And no other girls will marry you?”

“Oh I have plenty of women that would love to

marry me. I am not interested in spoiled little rich girls. I

want a pure girl that can be trained to be the kind of wife

that I want.”

Trained? What the hell does that mean?

“Fifty thousand,” my dad spat out.

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Willow,” he stood

to leave, and I was praying that my dad let him.

“Thirty thousand,” he retorted, and I couldn’t

believe what was going on.

“You’ve got yourself a deal,” he said. I was sure

they were shaking on it.

The next three weeks were pure hell. My dad

drove me to school every day and picked me up, insuring

that I stayed pure. He didn’t go out drinking for three

weeks and wouldn’t even let me go out after graduation.

We attended the ceremony, stopped at the liquor store and

went home to our dumpy little trailer. That was the night

that he told me my plans to marry a rich man that was

going to take care of me. He tried to make it sound like I

was going to be living the life of luxury and he was doing

it for my own good. He had forgotten to mention that he

was also receiving thirty thousand dollars for selling me

off.

I would like to say that my eighteenth birthday was

the worst day of my life, but I had many worse days of my

life. Drew was there at eight o’clock in the morning to

claim me. I had gotten sick so many times during the night,

hyperventilating and dry heaving for hours.

He had two men with him. One carried a leather

bag, sort of like and old timey doctor’s bag. I stayed in my

room, rocking back and forth on my mattress, willing this

not to be happening.

My dad yelled for me, and I couldn’t move. I

stayed sitting on the mattress staring at the door with my

heart in my stomach. He opened the door and the man

carrying the bag that I had watched through the window

came in with Drew.

“This nice man is going to exam you a little

Morgan,” my dad explained.

Exam me? What the fuck?

My dad stepped out, and Drew closed the door

behind him.

“I need you to undress from the waist down,” the