If You Met Me First

Answered Prayers

Aniston ran a swipe of honey flavored chap stick across her dried lips as she looked in the oval mirror above the sink of the bathroom. She did pretty well in hiding the remaining signs of her cut lip and bruised cheek. The marks on her neck now a faded memory. The front door slammed, making her jump. She tousled her hair that she had given a little curl and turned off the light, walking down the hallway to the living room. 

"Hey, baby." She smiled half heartedly. 

"Hi." Jake replied, coming over to kiss her. He smelled of wood chips and cheap perfume. Long day at work her ass. 

"We going to the bar tonight?" 

"Yeah. Give me like two seconds to change. I'll meet you out in my truck." Jake stalked down the hallway to their bed room, seemingly preoccupied by something else from the day. 

Aniston didn't say another word. She grabbed her little black clutch off the old trunk they used as a coffee table and headed out the door to his pick up that he left running in the front lawn. She got in the passenger side, shutting the door as easy as she could behind her. He always yelled at her for slamming it. It was just heavy for her sometimes she would explain. Aniston placed her clutch in her lap and pulled down the gray visor to get one more look over of herself. As she pulled down, something came floating through the air with it. She picked up the piece of paper that had landed by her brown cowboy boots. She held it between both of her hands, not really sure what she was looking at at first. Then she noticed. The shape of the little foot. The slope of the nose. All there in black and white. 

Aniston's stomach sank, a pit forming. He sure was working late on Saturdays. She hurried to put the sonogram picture back up in the visor and close it without being caught as the front door opened. Jake walked over to the driver's side in his fresh pair of jeans and white tee shirt. His cologne nauseating as he climbed up in his seat. 

"Ready?" He asked as he buckled his seat belt, adjusting the strap across his chest. 

"Mhmm." Aniston nodded her head, trying to push the image of what she had just discovered out of her mind. 

Jake looked over his shoulder as he pulled out on to Main Street, slowly making his way to the other side of their little town. Aniston sat as quiet as a church mouse in the passenger side, fiddling with her thumbs. She glanced out the window, watching the pine trees move at a glacial pace as they took the five minute ride to the bar. 

"How was your day?" Jake asked, placing a hand on her bare knee. He ran it up the length of her leg, stopping just at the bottom of her dark denim cut offs. 

"It was fine." Aniston answered, not taking her honey colored eyes away from the buildings now passing them. Mr. Cunningham standing outside the hardware store, waving as they went by. 

Jake squeezed her thigh, causing her to whip her head in his direction. "Mmmmm, those legs of yours are going to get you in trouble tonight. Might not be able to keep my hands off of you before we make it back home." 

His voice made her want to throw up. She sat stoic, praying to the Lord for the strength she would need to get through the night. Jake gave a devilish chuckle that stopped as they pulled in to the gravel parking lot in front of the bar. The beat up blue truck right in front of the entrance. Aniston had never been so happy to see Kolby's clunker in her life.