A Little Bit of Hope

Chapter 4- Confrontation

I swirled a damp cloth over the display case at Honey Buns, determined to wipe away a stubborn smudge. It had been a slow day, and Clara had stepped outside the mall to roll herself a cigarette.

"I've been a smoker for most of my life," she'd warned me. "If you don't like it then you'll have to put up with it, because I ain't quittin' now."

I told her I didn't mind, and it was true. I never really smelled smoke on her, and it was her business. I was just glad to have an honest job.

I was just about to give up on the smudge when Ian strolled in. I ducked my head and started scrubbing intently again. "Hello," I mumbled. "Can I get you anything?"

Ian chuckled nervously. "No, I've been trying to lay off the carbs. I actually wanted to talk to you for a moment."

I set the rag down and gestured mutely to a table. Clara usually took her time.

We sat. I waited anxiously for him to speak, hoping it didn't show on my face.

"Molly, I'm sorry for dragging you around like I did. I- I just couldn't stand to see you like that, first with that- that bastard in your apartment, and then when Gary kicked you out. I would've asked- I should've. But I didn't. I'm sorry."

I found myself nodding. I hated to see anyone look and sound so... mournful. "Ian, I am so grateful that you want to help me," I began, "But why me?"

Ian ran his hands through his hair, making it stick up from his head like a cartoon character. If I hadn't felt so awkward, I might have laughed.

"I never thought about why it was you," Ian admitted. "I guess you reminded me of my sister."

That caught my attention. A sister? The man was full of surprises. Noting my interest (curse my readable face), he continued. "Her name was Connie. When we were little, she would always take care of me, but she also made sure that I could take care of myself if I had to. Our parents were... not the best role models."

Ah. That explains some of it.

"You talk about her in the past tense," I pointed out. "Is she...."

Ian nodded. "My dad ran out on us, and my mom was addicted to about eight different kinds of drugs, so Connie had to be the breadwinner. She found work, any kind she was offered. Most of the time she went out on the street corner until someone picked her up. I understand until later that she was a prostitute. Then one night she just didn't come home. I got scared after a couple days, called the police, and got put in foster care."

I reached out and took his shaking hand. "That's awful," I said. "No one should have to go through that."

Ian squeezed my hand. "You did too though, didn't you?"

I shook my head and frowned. "I don't have any siblings."

Ian laughed sourly. "You know, I don't let just anyone live with me," he whispered. "I did a small-scale background check on you."

I pulled my hand away, aghast. "You what?!"

Ian smiled apologetically. "Sorry, I just wanted to make sure you weren't a serial killer or something."

I stood angrily. "And did I check out to your specifications?" I spat.

I saw a flash of hurt in his eyes, but I was too mad to care. He rose and pulled a wad of papers out of his pocket. "Here," he croaked hoarsely. "Here's all the information I got on you."

I snatched the papers out of his hand and stuffed them in my apron pocket without looking at them. I was dying to know what they said, but I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of watching me do it. "You should go now," I said tightly. "I have work to do."

Ian stuck his hands in his pockets and walked sulkily out of the bakery. I went into the back storage room and pulled out the papers. He really did mean small scale. All it showed was what my long-suspended driver's license could've told him, and the reports of a few fistfights I'd gotten into at a group home. The girl has not recovered from the loss of her parents. Child's play to get a hold of, really. I was still fairly riled, even though I knew I wasn't being fair towards him. I folded the papers back up and stuck them back in my pocket with a sigh. That would be another apology for another time.

I came home- home! - from the bakery that day exhausted yet again. All I wanted to do was take a shower and flop into bed. It was strange; I kept better hours than when I... worked nights, and yet I'd never been this tired.

I set my purse down on the kitchen counter and was about to head upstairs, when something caught my eye. A trail of rose petals led off towards the other side of the house, where I'd been only a few times. I followed them into the vast dining room, and my jaw dropped.

The light of dozens of candles stacked around the room illuminated what I could only describe as a feast. Ian stood beside the table with a glass of wine in each hand and a goofy, lopsided grin smeared across his face. He handed me a glass and I accepted it numbly.

"Wh-what's all this?" I managed.

"This," Ian replied, pulling out a chair and gesturing for me to sit, "is me apologizing to you for earlier." After a moment he added, "And for everything else, really, but mostly earlier."

I sat beside him and we ate. The food was delicious, and very high-end.

"Did you cook this?" I inquired between bites.

I couldn't quite tell in the dim lighting, but I think Ian blushed. "No, actually Tina did."

What would either of us do without that girl? I wondered.

Ian and I made strained small talk that gradually turned into friendly banter and cheesy jokes. I laughed until my sides ached and I had to wipe a tear from my eye as we finally fell into an easy silence.

Ian cleared his throat ostentatiously and stood, offering me a hand. "M' lady," he said in an over-emphasized British accent, "the hour is late, and if you are quite through, then may I escort you to your bedchambers?"

I took his hand with a smile. "Well m' lord, if you must."

He put his arm around my waist and we walked up the stairs together. I felt oddly anxious when we reached my room. The evening had been so pleasant; I didn't want it to end just yet. Ian pulled away and bowed with a flourish.

"M' lady," he said with an impish grin.

Without thinking, I leaned over and kissed him quickly on the cheek. He seemed startled for a moment, then his face split into a brilliant smile.

"What was that for?" He asked.

I stared into his eyes. He was so kind, and so sweet, and so... him, that it was almost painful.

"That was for everything."