First Surrender (Chance Encounters #3)

Chapter Nineteen

Natalie

W hy are tampons so expensive? Even the generic ones without all the pretty wrapping are hardly cheaper than the name brand. I could start using a diva cup but I am not messing with a cheap one if that’s the case. It will suction out my uterus or something.

I’m about to pick up the smallest box of generic tampons when raised voices reach my ears. It’s the middle of the afternoon and the drugstore was relatively dead when I came in, so it’s not hard to hear the commotion. Mirrors along the highest part of the wall show me the reflection of the rest of the store.

The altercation is taking place in the pharmacy and the owner of the raised voice is eerily familiar-looking. When the pharmacist takes his turn, raising his voice back at the gray-haired woman who I now recognize, I can’t stop my feet from moving.

“My pills. I need my pills. You have them back there, I know it.” Ms. Malec cries out, smacking both of her frail hands on the counter repeatedly. It’s not loud but it screams desperation.

“I have no idea what you are talking about, ma’am. We have no pills for you, you’re causing a scene. You’ll be trespassed if you don’t leave.” The man is middle-aged and his scowl is hardened by those years.

“Please, I need them. I need them.” She begins to cry, obviously confused, and his dismissal is only making her more upset.

“You aren’t getting anything from me. Go,” he scolds her like a child and that’s enough for me.

“She’s only trying to get help. You don’t need to be rude,” I accuse the balding pharmacist.

“Please, she’s the rude one.”

“Excuse me? She has issues with her memory. I’m sure the medication she’s asking for is related to it but you’re being too much of an ass to check. Right?”

He glances at his screen and purses his lips. “I’m just the manager here. I don’t have access to the pharmacist’s logs.”

“And, you’re doing a bang-up job, asshole.”

He scoffs, steam blowing from his ears. “Doesn’t matter. The cops are already on their way.”

“The cops? You called the cops on a confused old woman? You should be ashamed of yourself.” I turn, dismissing the dumbass manager entirely. “Ms. Malec,” I speak gently to her. “Let’s go, we can wait outside and away from this mean ugly man.” He grumbles something rude but I ignore him.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause a fuss. I need my medicine,” she pleads quietly. Her eyes are wary and sad.

“I know. I’ll figure it out. Come on.” I grab her gently by the hand and lead her away from the pharmacy counter.

“You’re banned, too!” The manager yells. I turn around and launch my box of tampons toward him, not close enough to hit him, but close enough to make him flinch. If I’m banned, better get my worth out of it.

“What’s your name?” She asks me as we exit the store. It’s a nice spring day and I’m glad. There is no way I could let her stay in that store to be berated.

“I’m Natalie. I know your son. We met once and you showed me how to plant some flowers.”

“Oh.” She doesn’t remember me but she also doesn’t let go of my hand as I ask her about gardening. We sit together on a bench and I let her talk until the first police cruiser arrives. Lawson PD, of course.

The officer approaches us but I hold my hand up to stop him. “We aren’t talking to you. Call Sheriff Malec.”

“The Sheriff doesn’t come to calls like this. It’s my jurisdiction and you both are being trespassed for disorderly conduct.”

“Call the Sheriff.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do, lady.” The cop huffs.

“Call him. I’m sure he would like to hear directly from you that his mother is being trespassed from a store for being discriminated against.” The officer balks at my use of discrimination or because I told him that Ms. Malec is Jackson’s mom. Either way, he backpedals, leaving us alone.

Ms. Malec continues telling me about all the beautiful gardens she has worked on and her favorite flowers to plant while I keep an eye on the parking lot. Two more Lawson PD cruisers pull in but no one approaches us.

It’s an unsettling feeling. I’ve never been a fan of law enforcement, but I’ve never truly been on their wrong side either. As their numbers and power outweigh me significantly, I’m using Ms. Malec as a crutch for strength. If I’m arrested, I’d gladly take my charge if it means I was standing up for what’s right. Helping Ms. Malec out of this situation is absolutely the right choice.

Finally, after ten minutes, the Sheriff Suburban comes flying into the parking lot and I breathe a sigh of relief. His tires screech to a halt right in front of the curb before us. Ms. Malec curls into me slightly, startled. She doesn’t know that he’s here to help us, or her rather.

“Mom, what are you doing here?” He asks before he’s even out of his car all the way. Her shaking body pushes into mine further and I realize it’s because she’s truly scared of him. He’s wearing his full uniform today, a vest and belt with all his go-go gadgets attached. She doesn’t recognize him.

Jackson realizes it too because he rips the Velcro from his sides and shoulders, tossing the Kevlar off over his head. It lands with a heavy plop on the sidewalk as the Lawson PD officers watch on, shaking their heads in obvious annoyance. Their judgment of the Sheriff’s approach is displayed clearly, and filled with contempt.

It doesn’t matter, I can only focus on the man in front of me. His hair is disheveled and his face is lined with worry. He looks… Tired.

“Mom, it’s me. Jacks.”

“No, no. Jacks is my boy. My baby boy,” she mumbles against the arm she’s grasping. My heart is fracturing into little pieces for her, I can’t imagine her confusion and fear.

Jackson looks at me directly for the first time with so many questions in his eyes but all I can do is shrug for now. “Ms. Malec, remember when I said that I knew Jacks? He’d want me to take care of you so I’m going to make sure you get home, okay?”

“Okay.” She nods softly against my shoulder.

Jackson hangs his head for a second before standing up and retrieving his vest. He holds his hand out for his mom but she shies away so he drops it limply. That has to hurt but he doesn’t say a word.

“Do you think you can get her into my car?” He asks, dryly.

“I’ll try.” I take her by the elbow and shuffle her toward the Suburban but as soon as she sees the big bold letters she stiffens. “It’s okay, he’s going to take you home.”

“No. Don’t leave me. He’s going to put me in jail. Please, don’t leave,” she begs and I don’t know what to do.

“I can take her in my car if you’ll lead the way,” I offer. He only nods stiffly.

I buckle her into my passenger seat without a fight and we make the five-minute drive with no more difficulty while she talks of the importance of planting bulbs in late autumn. Luckily, she never needed a word from me because my eyes stayed glued on my rearview mirror and the man driving behind me. His seriousness reflects harshly, but I imagine it’s covering a great deal of sadness over his mother.

Unlike mine, his loved him and treated him kindly, and now she’s gone in her own way. An ideal maternal figure snatched away by a disease while my mom chose to destroy her life. And, to neglect me. His mom never chose to abandon her son.

As we pull up to the curb of the assisted living home, nurses are rushing out to greet us.

“Bye, Ms. Malec.”

“Thank you for spending time with me, dear,” she tells me kindly as she’s led inside. She has no idea of the ruckus she caused.

“Why were you with her?” Jackson spits his question at me as if I’m the scum on the bottom of his boot.

“Excuse me?”

“She wasn’t where she was supposed to be, she was missing. And, with you!” He flings his hands out toward me, the you in question. As if I am the worst person his mother could ever be seen with.

“She wasn’t with me, you insufferable pig. She was alone and scared! I stepped in to help her because I just so happened to be in the right place at the right time. So, no. She wasn’t with me until I held her hand and walked her away from the grown man yelling at her. I held her hand while I told off the cop who was trying to trespass her. I let her cling to me while we waited for you!” I scream, embarrassingly loud.

He doesn’t flinch and no one in the assisted living center comes out to check on us. Probably a good thing because I would give them a piece of my mind too for losing Ms. Malec in the first place.

“Here is a bright idea. Instead of accusing me of conspiring against you, walk your tight ass in there and yell at them!”

His jaw locks, his teeth undoubtedly grinding together. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

“What? What was that? I couldn’t hear you because of how big of an asshole you were being.”

He exhales roughly. “I’m sorry. I am an asshole.”

I wasn’t expecting him to admit that so easily and I’m not ready with a witty comeback. I can only stare at him blankly.

“I was scared out of my mind when they said she was missing. I wasn’t thinking straight. I’m still not. If something ever happened to her I’d…”

He doesn’t finish his thought. His dejected stare at the ground keeps me from badgering him anymore even though he might deserve it.

“We’re even okay. Dec and your mom are innocent. We might hate each other but neither of us is that insane. Our family is irrelevant to whatever argument you and I might be having. Okay?”

“Family ceasefire?” He suggests.

“Don’t ever use that terminology again. It’s what got us in trouble last time. Family is off-limits. That’s it.” I turn to get in my car.

“Thank you, Nat,” he calls out after me.

“Don’t call me that!” My door slams and I can only fight the urge to scream until I’m out of his earshot.