"It's quite the doozy." she replied in the same tone. She watched as the ashes fell onto the table, a few embers bouncing with each tap.

She wondered how long it would take for his pocket to catch fire. that would be something to see, wouldn't it?

"You're in the nonsmoking section, or whatever." She said with her eyes locked on her notepad. "Can you move over two booths? then you can go through the whole pack for all I care."

She tapped the notepad with her pen before looking up at him, "Can't even tell you about the special if you keep that lit here. Boss'll kick you out. An' it's real good today, or whatever."

She really didn't want him to give her any guff about this. She figured he wouldn't tip as it was just because she was the one who had to tell him to move.

                                       What’s up, Doll?

        In Catholic school, as vicious as Roman rule I got my knuckles bruised by a lady in black                                               I held my tongue as she told me                              "Son, fear is the heart of love, “ so I never went back

              Richard ‘Dick’ Schiller from Vladimir Nabokov’s Lolita

He sat with her awhile repeating that to her over and over even though he was scared too. She reminded him so much of some of the girls at St. Joseph. The same wild eyed fear when this or that priest or nun walked by. Most of the boys at St. Joseph's had been hurt too but they usually carried the pain different.

she squeezed his hands as she tried to focus on his voice. Dick was too good to her. She felt a pit deep within her stomach, like a steel ball might raise sky high and then sudden drop-- and then Dick would be gone.

She couldn't do it without him. She didn't want to.

He got up when the shaking got worse, knelt in front of where she was sitting and putting his hands on her thighs. "It's alright, Doll. Its alright," He said as soothingly as he could. "You're going to be alright and we'll take that pretty baby of ours with us to Alaska."

'We should go." the reaction had been faster than the way her knee jerked when he put his hands on them. She dropped her cigarettes without a care to finish her task in trying to smoke one, her hands lacing in his life a nun entering prayer. it had only been a short time before that He had put his hands on her knees. He had said things that she felt she thought she was far away from. Would there always be bargaining? would there always be that fragile feeling of being twelve all over again?

Whatever high she had been riding on to get through the afternoon with Him there was fizzling out. She didn't like that person she had been while He was here. She didn't like the loud voice she had used with Dick as if she would never get the chance for such volume again. She didn't like how it made a smile all bright and toothy stamp itself across her face.

"There's gas in the bike, or whatever. We leave now, we'd be there. " Her knuckles had gone white from the way she held his hands. She wasn't about to let go. "Let's go."

She was terrified. He came, uninvited, with much more than she'd asked for, with words she didn't not want, and hands reaching as soon as they were able. She couldn't see that he was a balding, fat, small and an old man now. She stood taller than him. She wasn't what he wanted anymore as much as he tried to force that on her.

“Sure thing.” Dolores said with a soft nod. Something was definitely off. “ Can’t force you out while you’re still workin’ on your stuff , or whatever.” She remembered not having any money.  She remembered that first walk out on her own.

Being on her own hadn’t been the first step to being free. There had been other bad choices along the way. Desperation made a person do things they normally wouldn’t do. Like stealing a swing coat off a sleeping lady on the bus, or lying about her age just to get a job washing dishes.

She liked this town. In this town she could be honest. She still had the coat though. It was warm. “ Think you dropped this.” Dolores lied pulling a quarter from her pocket and sliding it across the counter. She’d always kept her tips on her, “you’re a payin’ customer after all. can sit here till we shut off the lights.”

            she  stares  down  at  it,  before  shaking  her  head.  until  johanna  realizes  what  is  meant  by  the  quarter.  she  comes  from  a  big  house.  she  should  be  able  to  afford  her  own  drink.  it’s  a  rule  johanna  understands  though.  if  she  has  money  on  her  person,  she  might  be  able  to  take  off  with  only  a  few  dollars.  that  was  too  much.  

            ❝  i’m  paying  you  back.  ❞  once  she  found  a  way  to  get  access  to  twenty-five  cents  and  thought  of  a  way  to  sneak  it  out.  ❝  thank  you.  ❞  usually,  johanna  isn’t  as  easygoing  when  it  comes  to  being  offered  help.  heaven  knows  she  gave  anthony  a  difficult  time  even  when  he  offered  to  her  library  books  part  of  the  way  back  to  the  house.  the  library  closed  early  today  and  she  can’t  go  back.  johanna  shyly  slides  the  coin  back  across  the  counter  as  if  to  pay.  it  doesn’t  matter.  she’ll  pay  the  girl  back  anyway.  

"Sure you are." Dolores said with a small smirk. She'd take the quarter when the girl was done. " what'cha having?"

The response wasn't what Dolores expected. it left a lot of blanks to be filled. her own experience getting married had been more of an anxiety than a dream.

She was surprised Dick hadn't taken back his 'would you.' She'd wanted to get married, that much was true, but there were things she needed to sort out with herself first.

"I'm married." she said a bit quieter. they'd gotten engaged "been married for a bit." She shifted where she stood. She'd met Dick when she was seventeen and he was nineteen. They didn't even begin to talk about getting married until a year later. Even then, She'd made him wait for a while after he'd asked. In the end it had been worth it.

As soon as he left, Dick got up and grabbed another beer from the fridge, his face unreadable but he slammed the fridge door shut afterwards. He knew very little about Dolores' stepfather but all few facts he hated. He couldn't even bring himself to speak to the oldd bastard. Though Dolores was right, tthe creep sure loved to hear himself talk.

She sat at the kitchen table with that envelope crushed against her chest. She just couldn't think of any other way they'd make it.

She didn't realize she was shaking.

"We're going to Alaska. " was all that she said. she set the envelope on the table. " I got us enough."

There it was. Everything her mother had left her, the deed to her old home and a few extra crumpled bills he had given to her in the same breath he berated and belittled her for growing up.

His Lolita, his girl. his his his. Dolores wasn't that anymore. She was herself, she belonged to no one. For the first time in her life, she told him no.

She was free.