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"The truth. She'll help get you home."
"But what about Wiggy?"
"He's a musician. Guys like him pick up girls all the time. Did you think he was going to look after you? I saw how he treated you in front of us. What is he doing when we're not around if he's that impolite while we are?"
She thought for a moment. "He can be kinda mean …"
"Then don't stay. You're a pretty girl. Find a man who will treat you right, and stay true to him."
Cherri stared at me and I could see she was mulling over all the points I had raised before she asked me to take my password off my phone and called the diner.
Watching how nervous she was fiddling with her paper napkin, pursing her lips and wiggling as she straightened up in her chair, I knew it was a call she'd been worried to make.
"Hey, Clinton, it's me. Is my mom there?" she asked. Her body curled in concern right in front of me as she listened, tears instantly brimming in her eyes. "Mm-hm," she sniffed. "Yeah, I'm fine," she said in a tiny young voice. "Mom," she blurted and burst out crying. Wiping her nose on the small paper napkin she listened as tears ran down her cheeks. "Minnesota," she whispered, swallowed hard and a sob tore out from her throat. "I … I'm not sure," she offered, "hang on …" She hesitated before she quickly added, "I won't hang up. I just want to ask someone." Turning to me she gestured to the phone. "You know where in Minnesota?"
"Near St. Paul International Airport," I added, "Fifteen minutes from the airport."
"Yeah," she sobbed, wiping her nose with the hem of her top this time. "Okay, I'll ask." She looked to me and said, "She wants me to go to a hotel somewhere, call her back from there, and wait for her brother to come pick me up."
I'd remembered passing a Hilton at the airport. "Tell them you'll be at the Hilton by the airport in an hour. I'll call you an Uber and send you over there." Cherri flashed me a grateful look and relayed the information.
As soon as she finished the call, I opened the Uber app on my phone and requested a car.
"You were right. She only wants me home," she admitted, her head hanging low to her chest in shame.
"It's going to be fine, Cherri. I know you're probably torn about leaving Wiggy after all this time…"
"No. I'm ready to go. He isn't that nice of a person and he's doing drugs. He wanted me to do them too, but—"
"Good, I'm glad you knew enough not to get involved in all this. Be kind to yourself, and don't put yourself in a position like this again."
"I—I won't," she agreed.
"Go get ready. The Uber should be here in a few minutes. Clean your face, and grab anything you have. I'll keep an eye out for the driver.
Picking up her pizza, Cherri took five more bites until her mouth was stuffed full and then made for the stairs to gather her things.
Less than a minute later, she came back looking much the same, with a clean face, her long hair scraped back in a messy ponytail and a pair of what looked like a brand new pair of Converse sneakers on her feet.
When she noticed me glance down at her feet, she gave me a guilty look.
"Wiggy bought me these. Had them delivered here to the bus by some assistant woman after I broke my sandal coming down those stairs," she informed me, nodding at the metal spiral staircase. "He's going to be mad he did that now that I'm running out on him." With an anxious glance, she folded her arms and shifted nervously from foot to foot.
"I'm guessing he won't be angry with you, just with me for getting in his business. It was me who told you to go, Cherri. But, let me tell you," I said plastering on my brightest smile. "I'm a big girl, I can take it. And I have Sawyer. The important thing is to get you back to your family."
"Thank you. I appreciate what you're doing, and if you don't mind me saying so, it makes sense you're Sawyer's girl. You're both kind people, and he's way too smart to be in a band." My heart squeezed, pleased with her compliment, because to Cherri relationships weren't about age or romance, they were about caring, feeling safe, and looking out for each other.
"I'm glad you're going home. Anything is better than being used by a man who doesn't want to take care of you." I answered honestly, and she nodded again.
Five minutes later the door burst open and Hammer called out to Cherri. "Sherry, are you going somewhere? There's an Uber guy out here," he asked, as I went to the back room and picked up my things.
"She's coming with me," I replied, suddenly deciding I couldn't send her off alone. Being a mom, I felt protective of Cherri and I figured if I had persuaded her to leave, the least I could do was ensure she wasn't going from the frying pan into the fire.
I shrugged into my jacket and grabbed my weekend bag and purse. "Billie?" Sawyer's hurt voice drew my attention to the bus door as I came out of the bedroom.
"Cherri wants to leave and I'm making sure her uncle is a safe person to pick her up." Sawyer ran his hand through his hair and I read the frustration in his eyes as my words rolled around in his head.
"Hang on, I'm coming with you." He looked worried when his eyes darted back and forth between Cherri and me. A second later, he pushed past me, entered the bedroom and returned with his wallet and keys to his bike in hand. "I'll follow you. Where are you going?"
I relayed where I was taking her and as Cherri made her way down the steps outside the tour bus, her adoring eyes darted up to where Wiggy stood.
"Bye. It was fun," was his parting comment to Cherri. No effort, no thank you, no touching goodbye. His bland words and offhand behavior said it all. The only person who mattered to Wiggy was himself.
If Cherri was disappointed or hurt she didn't show it, and I was glad. It told me she had some spine and would probably recover just fine. Sliding into the back seat of the Uber, she scooted across for me to get in.
"Bye, Mom," Wiggy called out, his voice laced with an acidic tone. Nothing would have given me greater pleasure than to get out of the cab and kick him right between the legs, but this would have meant showing him I cared. I'd never have given him the satisfaction.
Fortunately, Sawyer hadn't heard him as he had pulled his bike from a trailer at the back of the bus and was already revving the throttle, so I threw Wiggy a look of disdain, slammed the car door, and sat back as the driver pulled away.
