Chapter 1 - Set in Motion
Her shiny, black Cherokee came down the street with its right turn signal on, clicking softly. She pulled into the fresh asphalt driveway that Gavin had sealed earlier that month. When she got out of the vehicle, she walked down the driveway to the sidewalk just so she could avoid stepping on the lawn devoid of grass. Bailey saw Faith as she approached. The little girl sat on a wooden porch swing suspended by chains.
Once Bailey was on the porch, she felt the girl's eyes on her. "How was school, Faith?" she asked. Bailey's rouged lips parted into a smile. Her brown hair was pulled back into a neat bun, exposing her face. Her cheek bones were high and her eyebrows were thin. With her smile came small indents at the corners of her lips. She wore a short sleeved purple turtleneck shirt with a grey knee-high skirt and black felt high heels. After Faith had failed to respond, Bailey asked politely. "Are you feeling alright?"
Faith's apparel heavily contrasted her own. Her blue jeans were faded and ripped. She wore a plain white t-shirt, wrinkled and oversized. Her hair was long, black, and slightly wind-blown. She could've easily been mistaken for a little boy. Regardless, Bailey made sure to make her feel accepted, greeting her with the same disarming smile as she always did, showing genuine concern, hoping that the girl would do the same.
However, Bailey suspected that perhaps the girl was too young to understand the formalities that came with being an adult and being presentable at work, for Faith stared back at her coldly. Bailey wondered what Faith thought of her heels, exaggerating her height like a cat when its hairs stood up and arched its back to appear more intimidating. Maybe Faith wasn't daunted by her at all though? What if she felt superior? Bailey began to wonder if instead Faith thought she was like one of those pathetic Barbie dolls that the malicious girls in her class played with. Maybe Faith was more imaginative than that though? Did Faith perceive her chocolate eyes as delicate Venus fly traps that she had seen in her science books at school, except coated in black, attempting to catch more than just flies? "Faith?" Bailey was still waiting for a response.
"I'm fine," Faith told her submissively, thus Bailey retreated.
The kitchen was a plain place, just like the rest of the house which lacked a womanly touch. There were barely any decorations. It was long and rectangular, with counters that were made of cheap material that appeared to be wood, but when tapped upon with her finger sounded hollow. Bailey stood in front of the sink, staring out the window at the drive way.
A pan of meatloaf was in the oven behind her and the dishwasher was loaded at her right. Not only was she a part-time nanny for Faith, she also worked at a small clothing store uptown as a cashier and stock lead. Her promotion required her to dress formal on a daily bases in clothes that she would not have been able to afford if not for her discount.
She turned away from the counter and headed to the bathroom to go run the girl some bathwater. Bailey pulled the red shower curtain back, revealing two bottles of men's body wash, along with men's shampoo and conditioner. Beside a shower mirror there was a can of shaving cream, a silver razor, and aftershave. She walked over to the sink and retrieved the Faith's items from a drawer, glancing at the toilet. The seat was raised and was required to stay so by the widower himself.
She had known Gavin for quite some time now. They met at a bar a week after she graduated high school. She loved to be out, drink, and bask in lighthearted fun with her friends. It was where most of her pay checks went. However, four years later she lived with regret. Now twenty-two, she wished she went to college and that she had taken school more seriously. She liked to think that it wasn't too late for her, but with every day that passed her aspirations became less recognizable. It was fading among mediocrity as she performed the daily tasks necessary to keep her afloat.
Her relationship with her parents hadn't been very strong so she had moved out as quickly as she could. Currently, she lived in a three-bedroom apartment with three other people, two of which were girls she had graduated high school with. Neither Macy nor Charlotte attended college either but were financially stable due to their jobs. They may not have been doing what they loved, but at least they were independent, which brought joy in itself. However, they knew the joy of breaking free of their parents would soon wear off once they felt like life was bullying them.
The third roommate was Scott. He was Macy's boyfriend, and did everything he could to help out merely for bragging rights. Living in an apartment with three women, he made sure not to be outdone. His family owned a restaurant called Apple's, he drove a red Mustang, and his ego made Bailey sick. Ever since he had moved in for the year there was more tension in the apartment. She didn't like to be there much simply because she couldn't stand him. It didn't help that Macy treated her differently when he was around either.
Recently, Bailey had devoted quite a bit of extra time towards being a nanny to keep out of her apartment. Through the years, Gavin and Bailey had kept in touch via texting. Of course, he responded to about one fourth of the messages she sent. He was very hesitant towards even letting her babysit, but after a while, she felt the trust.
She went from babysitting only in emergency situations to being a full-time nanny. He had always paid her very well, but even after spending time with his daughter, the little girl still had issues connecting. She was quiet and all the secrets of their past were hidden in a cloud of mist. Something had happened to them that was so traumatic, both the father and the daughter were still running from it mentally and physically. In the time she had known Gavin he had moved every year. Perhaps eviction? Or something else?
It was never a good idea to get involved with older men, especially older men who had issues. All her life, her parents told her that she needed to think about her future, her success, and what she was going to do with her life. They made it sound like conceit was a good thing. Perhaps she was experiencing rebellion, or maybe it was an attempt to bring purpose into her mediocre life that she continued to keep involved with Gavin and Faith? Maybe she did it to make herself feel better about the decisions she had made in her own life.
Bailey knew it wasn't her place to try to help Faith or Gavin, especially since she was just twenty-two, but something within her made her remain loyal to the situation she had come across. She once drank for lighthearted fun, yet once she saw how Gavin was a slave to his addiction, she couldn't look at drinking the same anymore. She thought about an intervention, but he didn't have any friends that she knew of, let alone any family other than his daughter who required more love than she could give.
Therefore, Gavin continued to give and fade. He worked and fatigued like any human would. Every day Bailey woke wondering if she could see the miracle of happiness return to their life. What human emotion existed within her, other than curiosity, to compel her to feel so strongly about this miserable father and daughter? Familiarity. She didn't want to see this happen to anyone else, no matter how bitter she once was.
Gavin grabbed his plate of food off the dining room table and moved into the living room to watch TV. Next to leave was Faith, who retreated into her room at once. As for Bailey she remained seated at the table, biting her lip. She moved her elbow to rest against the black table top and her cheek against her palm. She sat there alone and ate quietly. Sounds of UFC from the TV resonated into the dining room and she simply rolled her eyes.
Without finishing the rest of her meatloaf, she went to take her plate to the kitchen to throw it away. It was definitely not her best. She was actually disappointed with herself and wouldn't have been surprised if anyone wasn't willing to scarf it down.
"Hey," Gavin shouted into the dining room. She was standing with the plate in her hand. Her body was angled towards the kitchen door. "Bring that in here," he told her.
She looked down at the plate with a look of confusion. "How can you eat this?"
"Don't fish for compliments," he told her.
She was not fishing for compliments. It was dry and it didn't taste good at all. He must have been hungry. She walked over the carpet and set it down on the wooden coffee table before him. She was amazed that he had actually cleaned his first plate, but at the same time couldn't help but feel an indescribable sense of appreciation.
When she returned to the kitchen, she put the leftovers away and washed some dishes. Once she finished, she called into the living room, "Gavin?" From the kitchen door she could no longer see him on the couch. His empty plate was left on the coffee table. She went and took it to the sink. She then continued to look for him so she could tell him goodbye.
"Gavin?" She knocked on the bathroom door, hearing the water running. "I'm leaving." But there was no response, so she opened the door. "Hey, did you hear me?"
He was sitting in the tub as it filled with water. The reflection of the light on the rippling water shielded his lower body from sight. His elbow was propped on the edge of the tub and he had his temple rested against his angled knuckles. His weary eyelids were barely open with black lashes that lessened the glint of his distant gaze. He stared off at the wall of the shower to his right.
"I'm going to move your truck so I can get out. Your keys are still on your nightstand, right?" Instead of intonation at the end of her sentence, her voice merely faded away. He was still quiet and she stood in the doorway awkwardly, waiting for any response, anything. Just as she went to close the door in defeat, he looked up at her.
"It smells like you killed a Strawberry Shortcake kid in here." He jokes, remarking on the smell of Faith's body wash.
She rolled her eyes at him with a chuckle. "Bye, Gavin."
The next morning, Gavin moved down into the living room, dressed for work in a simple t-shirt and jeans, with large tan work boots. It was very early, with the sun was just beginning to rise. He headed into Faith's room with quite a headache. "Hey," he knocked loudly on her wall. His own noise upset his head even more. She stirred and pulled the pillow off of her face. Her eyes were dark and bloodshot. "Get ready for school, kid."
"I don't feel well," she told him.
He ran his hand through his platinum blond hair and then strode over to her bed side. It was yet another morning he didn't feel like dealing with her. He placed his rough hand against her warm forehead to check her temperature. Her cheeks were red and her face was splotchy. "You don't look well either." he told her. "I'll call in for you." It was simple as that.
"Can I go with you?" she asked him as he began to walk away from her.
"You can't go with me," he frowned.
"I can sleep in the bunk of your semi. I'll stay out of your way," she told him.
"If you aren't well enough to go to school, you aren't well enough to go with me," he reasoned with her calmly.
"Please take me with you. I don't want to be alone!" Tears filled her eyes and she began to weep loudly.
Groaning at the noise he shouted angrily, "Shut up!" His loud voice echoed through the room, causing her to jump. He was surprised at his own outburst as he placed his hand against his aching temple. She was silent at once and both of their ears were ringing in the quiet. From her jerky breaths he could tell she was holding in a loud sob. "You can't come with me alright. I will call Bailey."
Her tears continued to fall silently. Gavin exited her room, stood in the living room, and took his cell phone out of his pocket. He searched for Bailey's number and was incredibly hopeful that she would answer. Unfortunately, after several rings, she did not. "Fuck," he cursed. Luckily, she called back right away. The phone rang loudly in his hand.
"Sorry, I was sleeping and couldn't get to my phone right–"
"Bailey," he interrupted her, "Can you watch Faith? She's sick today."
"Sure, and you don't have to worry about…"
"Alright, I'm going to be late for work," he interrupted her once more.
Shortly after that he closed his cell phone and then went back into Faith's room. "Bailey is on her way." He stood near her doorway looking in on her. Her dark hair was slightly plastered to her face and she was sitting up on her bed, hunched over. His little girl nodded her head up and down. "Now go back to sleep."
"You aren't tricking me this time?" she asked him with a slight sob.
He brought his hand to the bridge of his nose, reminded of his failures as a father. "No, Faith. I'm not tricking you this time."
The little girl nestled into her covers hesitantly with tired eyes as he left her room. The sound of his heavy footsteps in his work boots faded away. It wasn't too long before Bailey arrived. She wore a pair of grey shorts and a baggy t-shirt. Her face appeared sleepy. She had no idea how Gavin could wake up so early for work. She did what she could to get by just for herself, she couldn't imagine being in his shoes.
"Here," he pulled two twenty dollar bills out of his pocket shortly after she walked into the house.
"Don't," she said shaking her head from side to side. "It's okay to ask for help," she told him.
He swallowed and she could clearly see his Adam's apple move as he looked up at the ceiling. "It's for lunch if you guys get hungry."
She shoved the money aside once more. "There's plenty already here. Use that to get yourself some breakfast. You're going to be late for work," she argued and rubbed her eyes. She knew however that he did not eat breakfast. He stood with the money awkwardly in his resolute hand. He then shoved it back in his pocket and looked down at his boots for a moment.
"Call if you need anything," he muttered as he pushed open the screen door.
"Gavin," she said his name. He paused with one foot out the door. Her brown eyes were soft and calm. Every time he left out, she worried if she would ever see him home safe from his travels again. He simply stared back at her with cold apathy. He knew very well who depended on him to return home. She felt he was a soldier headed out to battle the day, while he viewed her as an innocent woman naive in the ways of true hardships. Thus, he did not say anything back to her, not even thanks.
His grey Ford pickup had been parked on the side of the road from Bailey moving it to get out yesterday. She watched him move over the side walk and get into the vehicle. His eyes were dark and she could clearly see the pain. She then shut the storm door and went to Faith's room to check on the girl with her father's eyes.