Aria's Second Chance

4_Las Vegas

Aria

“Las Vegas,” I murmur to myself when the bus finally reaches our destination. It felt like we have been travelling for an eternity. Evan was the perfect little angel all the way here and I am amazed at how well he took all the hours on the bus.

With the help of the friendly personnel, Evan and I are finally standing on the sidewalk. Right across the bus terminal, is a hotel and casino. I would love to cross the road and book a room, but I must work carefully with the money I have until I can find work. But at the same time, I need to find a room for us. Evan is exhausted and over-energized - at the same time - and I am desperate for a bath or shower. Getting out of this dress and hoody would be great. I have never been to Las Vegas, and I do not have the slightest idea where to start. I do not have a phone to search for accommodation or even call a cab. Walking blindly in a direction would be downright stupid with a three-year-old.

“You will think better when your stomach is full,” Maya advises.

“Genius,” I reply. “Which way?”

“In this place?” Maya snorts. “It doesn’t matter. You’ll pass one.”

Smiling down at Evan, I take his hand and take a left. After all the hours on the bus, it is actually nice to stretch our legs.

“Who wants waffles?” I look at Evan when we pass a diner two blocks down.

“Me, please,” he exclaims excitedly and starts jumping up and down.

“Come on,” I smile and guide him inside.

The inside of the diner is nothing fussy or upscale and I relax instantly. Here no one will care or question a beaten-up mother with a toddler.

The waitress that comes to us, is young and pale with curious eyes. The way she looks at me makes me uncomfortable, but I ignore it and place our order.

“Where’s Daddy?” Evan asks the question I have been dreading.

“It’s just you and me, buddy,” I avoid a direct answer. “We are going to live here for a while. Is that okay with you?”

“Sure,” he shrugs, and I must bite back my tears. He is still too small to understand and comprehend what he agrees to. I know that there are still many awkward conversations waiting on me and I am not looking forward to them.

The waitress places a plate of waffles in front of Evan and his eyes start sparkling with pleasure. I thank her for my coffee and sunny breakfast, but she does not turn around and walk away. She stands there fidgeting with her fingers as she looks at me.

I look at her questioningly and she blushes slightly.

“I’m sorry,” she says softly. “I don’t need to pry, but … do you need help?”

“What do you mean?” I ask coolly even though I know exactly what she is asking. A woman with a bruised face and baggage could only mean one thing.

“I … I know a place where you can stay,” she stutters. “They help women in need.”

“A shelter?” I flip my eyebrow and sit back. The thought did cross my mind, but I dismissed it almost immediately. Too much paperwork and questions and a viable way for Bradley to find us.

“No, no,” she shakes her head hastily. “It’s an agency that helps young women find work and they help with the accommodation as well.”

“I’ll think about it,” I smile kindly at her and she gushes in relief before she scurries off.

“I don’t like it,” Maya gives her opinion.

“I agree,” I admit. “I cannot put my finger on it, but something is off.”

“This entire city is off,” Maya snorts. “But we’re here now and we need a place to stay.”

“Maybe we should consider her offer,” I murmur. “Even if it’s just for the night. It will buy me some time to find an apartment. And a burner phone.”

“If we can’t find anything else, we will have to,” Maya replies.

The waitress comes around and this time she is overfriendly and smiling from ear to ear.

“How was your food?” She asks as she assembles our dirty plates.

“Good!” Evan shouts happily as he gives her the brightest of smiles.

“Can I get you anything else?” She smiles at me.

“Do you by any chance have a map of the city that I can take a look at?” I ask hopefully.

“I will bring it right over,” she nods, and I watch her walk to the woman behind the counter. The woman reminds me of my fourth-grade teacher. In one word – sour. The corner of her lips pulls down like she constantly smells something bad. Her gaze is critical, and her neck and shoulders are stiff. The waitress talks to her and for a second it seems they are arguing before the waitress returns with a map.

“You may keep it,” she says friendly as she hands it to me along with a piece of paper. “And here’s my number. Call me if you need a place to stay.”

“Thank you,” I say as I eagerly start looking at the map. “You may bring the bill.”

The waitress walks off as I try to locate all the places that might be helpful to me.

“Do you love your son?” The voice is soft and low.

“Excuse me?” I look up in surprise and recognize the sour lady from the counter.

“If you love your son, you will not go with her,” the woman says and nods to the waitress who is standing with her back to us.

“I don’t understand,” I frown as I put the map away. Things are getting really weird, really fast and I think it is best if we get out of this place.

“Whatever you do, do not go with her,” the woman warns me before she turns around and walks away.

“That is not odd at all,” Maya chuckles nervously.

“But I believe her,” I sigh internally. “We both got a weird vibe from the waitress. This woman only confirmed our suspicions.”

I fish out some cash when the waitress walks toward us with a huge smile. Is she smiling because she is expecting a generous tip or because we might be going to the shelter she suggested?

“Keep the change,” I say politely as I hand her the cash and gather our things.

“You will call me, right?” She asks eagerly.

“Lizelle,” the woman interrupts before I can respond. “Jack is looking for you in the kitchen.”

“Coming,” she shouts over her shoulder and looks back at me. “I will wait for your call.”

Hastily, she turns around and walks away. I look at the woman and watch how she keeps an eye on Lizelle until she is in the kitchen. The second the door closes behind her, the woman walks to me again.

“I’ve been where you are,” she says with a no-nonsense voice. “And I have seen this many times. If you go with Lizelle, you will wish to be back with that bastard. Do not go with her.”

“But we need a place to stay,” I say. Not that I was considering Lizelle’s offer, but more out of hope that this woman will reveal more. No person in his or her right mind would not be curious.

“Here,” the woman pulls out a card from her pocket. “Call him. George is a good guy and will do his utmost best to get you accommodation.”

I have so many questions, but the woman abruptly turns around and walks away. Mystified by what just transpired, I study the map again – specifically the bus routes and shops.

“I had enough of this place, let’s get out,” Maya urges me.

I could not agree more. So, I gather my things and take Evan’s hand as we walk outside. We make our way to the bus stop and are just in time.

“Mommy, can we go home now?” Evan asks as we embark on the bus and his eyes are droopy from exhaustion.

“I’m sorry, buddy,” I say guilt-ridden and pick him up to take a seat. “I promise it won’t be long.”

He nods and curls into my lap. I pull him close and kiss him on the top of his head, praying that I will be able to fulfil my promise to him.

I make a mental note of all the shops and buildings we pass until we stop at Target. Gently, I wake Evan up and gather our things. I bundle our baggage and him in a shopping cart and push straight for the prepaid mobile phones.

With trembling fingers, I dial George’s number and am relieved when he answers after the second ring.

“Hello,” I greet politely. “I’m Aria and I’ve got your number from a lady in the diner.”

“Are you the one with the son that’s looking for accommodation?” His voice is deep and soothing.

“How do you know?” I ask, immediately on alert.

“Suzie told me you might phone,” he chuckles. “And I have just the place for you. Where are you now?”

“Target,” I answer hesitantly. I do not know who to trust, but if I need a place, I must start somewhere.

“Meet me in two hours at 1450 Harmon Avenue. That’s the apartment’s address,” he explains.

“Thank you,” I smile and listen as he explains the costs and what to expect.

I feel much better by the time we disconnect the call. With renewed energy, I buy supplies for our new apartment.