The Blond

Mona was sitting on her haunches, against the cold brick wall of the Rite Aid. The cap on her head covered her overly bleached blond hair and a cigarette dangled unappealingly from her mouth, rummaging through her carpet bag purse.

“Fuck,” she thought, “where the hell is he?” She saw some old bitch getting out of her new Prius, look at her as if she were just released from prison, which she was, but it was none of her damn business anyhow. The rain was starting now and the awning above just barely covered her. There wasn’t anywhere else to sit, so she avoided anyone’s eyes who happened to walk past and into the store.

“Man, I could use a bottle of wine,” she thought to herself, feeling around the bottom of her purse for any money she might have forgotten was there. Her teeth were hurting again and the candy bar she’d eaten made her wish she’d ignored her growling stomach. Chips would have been better. Where the hell was that creep anyhow? He was always late, fucking loser. An old rusty Ford pulled into the drive and for a minute, she thought it was him, as she began to stand, then realized it was just another redneck. She had plans for herself. She wouldn’t stay in this town for long; she’d get back on her feet. It would take a little while, but she’d get herself a job, probably waitressing somewhere for minimum wage, save the money to get a room and then maybe she could finally get her kids back. God she missed them. Every day she’d been locked up, they’d been growing somewhere else, away from her. Did they even think about her anymore? Doing a year in county for theft hadn’t endeared them anymore to her, she was pretty sure. Her sister had them now, and they were too far away she couldn’t get the money together to see them just yet. Then on top of it, she needed to prove she had a job and was taking care of herself before she could spend an hour alone with either one of them. She was sure her sister was talking shit every day about her.

A woman got out of her car and opened the back door, unbuckling her little girl’s seat belt and picking her up to set her on the ground. Her little pink rain boots and yellow polka dotted raincoat were cute. The woman took her daughter’s hand and shut the door, pressing the lock button on her keychain, the safeguard from the big bad predators.

Mona’s new cell phone rang. It was the creep. “Where the fuck are you?” she said to him, as the woman and her child walked past her through the automatic doors.

“There was an accident on the 126. It was backed up for over an hour…sorry.”
“Where are you now?” she didn’t care about his excuses.
“I’m almost there. Just turning onto the 101.”
“Hurry up, I’m fucking freezing,” as the rain came down harder. She shut the flip top phone without saying goodbye and threw it into her purse, gathering her things and standing. She still had that cough. It was getting worse. The last doctor she’d seen told her to quit the smoking. Easy for him to say; moneybags. She adjusted her belt she’d found over at the thrift store. It looked real good with the black corduroy pants she had on.

His truck pulled in. It was nastier than the last time she’d seen it and he was too. She deserved better than him. Still, he was a ride. He pulled up beside her, his window rolled down. He smiled at her but she ignored him, went over to the passenger side and threw her stuff inside, got in and shut the door.

“Stop by the liquor store before we head out. I need to get myself warm,” was all she said, lighting another cigarette. He nodded and pulled slowly out the drive, his shot muffler blowing smoke out the back, trailing up into the rainy, gray sky.