New to Mercy? Start here with the first chapter
Previous Chapter: Brushing Shoulders
Midnight. He shouldn’t be here. The whiskey he hadn’t drunk must have gone to his head. Isla had dropped Dave off at Kim’s, but he hadn’t gone in. Instead, he walked back to the mill, sneakers slipping dangerously on the icy sidewalks, frozen fingers jammed in his pockets.
Everything Isla thought about his feelings for Lacey was true, had always been true. It hadn’t been love at first sight, not at all. But very early on, he had sensed someone there underneath all the pain and bad choices whose soul could meet and understand his someday. But Isla had been wrong in thinking there was a relationship; Dave only wished that Lacey would love him and believed it was too much to hope.
But then . . .
Somewhere between August and now, they had become actual friends. A timid trust had been established. He had seen her laugh with her head back as they raced giant brooms up and down the studio floor cleaning it. She had shown him her sketches of Rufus, a rat that she considered a friend.
“Some friends are not good friends,” he had said skittishly.
“Don’t worry, we respect our boundaries,” she had laughed. “Look at his little whiskers.” She pointed to the napkin where Rufus resided. Dave wasn’t sure if the rodent existed in real life or how Lacey thought she could tell him from any other rat, but he gamely hung up the card she had made him of a rat in a Santa hat. Privately, he hoped the fat gray stray cat had enjoyed a big Christmas dinner.
One morning over tea and instant coffee, she asked him if he was doing what he’d thought he would with his life. “I guess,” he’d said, “I’m living it. I don’t think I had a big vision. What about you?”
She bit her lip. “I didn’t think I’d be a junkie.”
“I’m sorry,” Dave said quickly, “but I don’t see that as what you’re doing with your life.”
“Thank you for that . . . but it is. Yep, it’s pretty much a full-time gig.”
“Don’t tell yourself that,” he pleaded. “Come on . . . what do you want to do?”
“Well . . . pretending there isn’t a massive obstacle . . . I always wanted to teach preschool. I don’t have the brains for anyone older.”
“Oh,” Dave looked at her in wonder. “That’s so right.”
“Is it!?”
“Oh, I mean . . . not the brains thing, that’s just you being silly. Not many people have the right ambitions. But you are so right for a preschool teacher.”
“You think? Why?”
Dave put his head to one side and smiled. “Because you’re . . . you like laughing and playing and you just sparkle. And you’re patient.”
“Now where did you get all those ideas?”
“I see you.” Dave smiled until Lacey looked shyly away.
There were so many moments, and he kept them locked in the treasure box of his heart, viewing them again and again, wondering what they meant.
On the other hand, there was always his rival, the monster, and lately he wondered if she was seeing more of the monster again.
There was madness in his mind on this cold night; he wasn’t sure why. But he had to see her, if he could find her.
He hardly noticed the staircase as he ascended it, but on the landing by the studio door, he paused to calm himself. She was in there, he knew it. She hadn’t been there for two weeks or more, but this was not one of the many nights that she didn’t come. She would be asleep. He must not scare her. He opened the door softly. It was bitterly dark in the corner where she was curled up, even when his eyes adjusted, though light from the streetlights streamed through the massive windows on the other side of the changing room.
He sat on the floor beside her. She stirred, but did not wake for a long time. Finally, she said drowsily, “You came.” He imagined her sleepy smile, sleepy eyes, as he looked at her shadow, inky black against the darkness. Her hands found his and she pulled him towards her. “Come here.” He let her pull him down beside her, let her nestle close to him and, finally, put his arms around her. But when she said, “You deserve it,” he let go and sat up again.
He worried about her feeling rejected, but she wasn’t feeling anything like that right then. She’d been with the monster, it was in her, as he feared. He heard her laugh softly, vaguely. “Aw, come on. You’ve done so much for me. It’s ok. I don’t mind.”
“Lacey,” he said firmly, her hands before his, “this was never a transaction and it’s never going to be.”
“Ok, Dave, I don’t know what you mean, but it’s ok.”
“Lacey,” his heart beat fast, too fast, “I love you.”
“Oh, that’s what you want? Ok, I guess. Let’s be lovers.”
“Not to pay me back, Lacey.” His heart sank again. “I mean it. I . . . I love you.”
“I am in love. I fall in love as often as possible.” Her voice was dreamy, distant.
“With me?” He held his breath.
“Oh, Dave. Ohhhhh, Dave. I’m sorry. You’re such a good man. You’re a good man, Dave. Find a good little girl for yourself, please please please.”
It was no use. He had chosen the wrong moment; it should have been special, they should have been alone, without the sinister stranger in Lacey’s veins. “Let’s talk in the morning.”
“In the morning, yes. Let’s talk in the morning.”
“You won’t leave.”
“No no no, I won’t leave. I won’t leave.”
Dave hesitated, then kissed her firmly on the forehead. “I like that, Dave,” she said. “You can do that again.” So he did, and then he locked the door behind him and walked home, feeling not hopeful, but unburdened.
She wasn’t there in the morning. He wasn’t surprised. Often, she folded her bed up neatly by the door, but this time it was still all in a heap. She remembered his visit, then, and had left in a hurry, perhaps a panic. He would follow her. Maybe she was not long gone.
Lacey had several usual haunts. She wasn’t on a bench by the dam and she wasn’t on the common, but she was at Dunks, of course, standing out front counting the change in her pocket.
“Buy you a coffee?” She looked up, startled.
“Ok.” She seemed tired. He shouldn’t have woken her up last night.
They sat in a booth facing each other, saying nothing for several moments. Dave cleared his throat.
“I, uh . . . I stopped by last night.”
She nodded. “I know.”
“I told you I loved you.”
“I know.”
“What do you . . . well, what do you think? What does it mean? What’s next?”
“It makes no sense.” Lacey shook her head and sipped her coffee.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know how to tell you.” She looked unreachably sad.
“I love you.”
“I’m sorry, Dave. I didn’t mean for you to fall in love. I guess you can’t help it.”
“Oh no, you can help it. You absolutely can help it; you can choose. And I choose you, Lacey. I choose you.” He wasn’t sure what reaction he expected, but it wasn’t the blank staring out the window that he received. “Do you hear me, Lacey? I love you. I choose you.”
“I hear you,” she said, distant as if in a trance.
“Look, look,” he said, opening his phone. He’d been up for hours that night preparing for this conversation. If she’d asked why he loved her, he had a plan. She didn’t ask, but he didn’t know what else to say. “Look, I love you because you are kind.” He showed her a picture of her smiling at a child. “I love you because you are caring.” He held out a picture of her helping him get the studio ready for class. “I love your drawings.” He scrolled through to a funny comic she had doodled on a napkin. “I love your laugh,” he showed her laughing. “I love you because you are sweet.” The photo was of a cup of tea that she had left for him one morning.
He looked at her. Her face was so, so sad. He’d thought she would be happy; he hadn’t dared think of a future, but he’d dared think of this moment when she’d at least smile. “What’s wrong? I love all this about you. Look, there’s more . . .” She put her hand over the phone.
“Stop.” She was crying now. “I love that girl, too. That girl is gone. She was already almost gone when you met me and now she’s gone forever. I tried, Dave. I really did. This is what life is like with me. It’s no fairy tale.”
“What do you mean, now she’s gone forever? Did something happen?”
Lacey looked miserably out the window for several long moments before she said, “No. Nothing that hasn’t happened before. Nothing new. The only thing different was that for a few days, I actually thought things were changing for me. But now . . . it can’t be fixed. I can’t be fixed. I missed my last chance. Like I said, that girl is gone forever.”
“No, no . . . no, I see her. She’s here.” Lacey shook her head, wordless with tears. Dave felt his own eyes filling. “It’s true, I’ve just seen glimpses of her, flashes. But I know she’s still here and I want to know her.”
“I’m sorry, Dave. I’m so sorry about this. It was ok on my own, I wasn’t hurting anyone. I should never have let you help me. I’m so sorry, this is the worst. It’s the worst. And I hate it!” She was becoming hysterical and the man in purple and orange behind the counter was looking concerned. Dave put his arm around her and ushered her outside. He turned to speak with her, but she stumbled away.
“Please don’t go! I didn’t mean to upset you. Please come back!” Still, she went on, unheeding.
Dave trudged back to the studio miserably. His students were standing around the door, checking the time. He apologized and let them in, hastily picking up the pile of blankets, hoping they hadn’t seen them, but knowing they did, knowing they were raising their eyebrows behind his back. As he folded the blankets, he knew that Lacey would not use them again for a long, long time, if ever. And he was right.
Next Chapter: Over and Over and Over
To make sure you don’t miss a chapter, you can subscribe! Every chapter is free—paying is just a way to help facilitate my work.
A simple share helps more than you know!
I’d love to hear from you!
Copyright 2025 Jennie Robertson