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Rubbing her cheek, she blotted her eyes and looked at the mirrors posted in the corners of the store, spotting a flannel-covered customer toward the front.
She rounded the corner and came to a jolting stop. “Finn.”
He smiled at her. “I dropped the kids off but came back for the shovel. Flurries started and now they’re predicting more than two feet of snow.”
She couldn’t form a word, so she just led him to the display in the back and handed him one.
“You okay?”
“Fine.”
He sniffed the tobacco-tinged air. “Your dad around?”
“In the back.” He followed her to the front counter and she punched the order into the register, waiting for him to swipe his card and avoiding any eye contact.
“Erin, you sure you’re okay? Your cheek’s red.”
“I was outside unloading salt bags. It’s cold.” She met his challenging glare with one of her own because experience taught her people rarely question the glaringly obvious. They all wanted to appear concerned, but no one truly wanted to get involved.
As expected, he backed off and swiped his card. “Come out tonight. You look like you could use a few laughs.”
Like a night at O’Malley’s would accomplish that. “I’ll try.”
“Try. That’s all I ask.”
As soon as he left, she reached into her purse and pulled out a compact mirror, wincing at the bruise already forming on her cheek. She should have never moved back home or accepted this job, but it was all she could find.
That’s a lie.
She could have toughed it out. Looked for work outside of Jasper Falls, found a cheap, efficiency apartment until she saved up more money for something better. There had to be something wrong with a person who refused to abandon an abusive parent even in adulthood.
Why was she still here? She should have gotten out of this awful town years ago like Harrison had. But she stayed, and her life had gotten progressively more miserable with every passing day.
Somehow, walking away from her father felt like accepting defeat. It seemed like her failure as much as his. What was wrong with her? Why did no one like her? Her mother had left without ever looking back and, no matter how much she tried to help or impress her dad, he felt nothing but contempt for her. What sort of twisted, victimized thinking convinced her to stick around to be treated like that?
He was never going to change. He was never going to see her the way other parents saw their children. Harrison was right. She should have gotten out of there years ago.
She didn’t have much in terms of a savings account, but her car was finally paid off and she had a little money in the bank. It was enough to figure something out because she was damn sure she didn’t want to work at the hardware store or live under her dad’s roof anymore.
Erin left work and threw a pot roast in the crock pot with some carrots and potatoes when she got home, unsure why she bothered. Dad would be eating alone tonight.
Her cheek was throbbing, and when she opened the freezer looking for ice for her swollen face, the chilled bottle of vodka caught her eye. She snatched the bottle and filled a tall glass, topping off the last inch with a splash of iced tea, just enough to turn the liquid brown but still clear enough to read the paper through.
She wrapped a tea towel around a handful of ice and pressed it to her face, carrying her drink to her bedroom. By the time her cup was half empty and her cheek numb, she found herself sorting through her clothes and searching for something to wear. An hour and a second drink later, she stumbled out of her bedroom in a sleek red dress, hair done and heels on.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
“Out.”
“Out where?”
“To town.”
“It’s snowing. The town’s closed.”
“Well, the bar’s open.”
He glared at her from where he stood in the kitchen by the counter. “You look as though you’ve already had a few.”
