Stronger than You Know by Jolene Perry

look like phones, they’re all like small computers.
    â€œLet’s just go the counter, then.”
    â€œOkay.” I follow. Having my own phone—just the idea of it makes me feel grown-up. Independent.
    He talks with the cashier in a language I barely understand. I look at the large TVs on the walls, advertising phones and apps and plans. It seems kind of silly since we’re in the store with the actual products all around.
    â€œHere.” Uncle Rob hands me a phone. “It’ll take us a few more minutes to get it set up.”
    The phone’s front slides open for me to take calls. I feel myself smile. I slide it up and then back down. Cool.
    The door is shoved open by a couple of guys, probably Uncle Rob’s age, but not as neat. I turn away and lean against the counter next to my uncle. He’ll be like my wall so they’re not really there.
    One of the two men stands in line behind us. I breathe in and smell Marlboro smoke. That smell is so connected to Mom’s trailer. To the men there. To the glances, which led to touches which led to … My lungs seize up. I choke. I need to get out. Now.
    I tug Uncle Rob’s sleeve. “Uncle Rob?” I whisper.
    He’s digging through his wallet. “Yeah?”
    â€œI need to go—now.”
    He doesn’t hesitate. “I’ll be back in a moment,” he says to the cashier as we move for the door. I take a deep breath as we step outside. The clean air immediately helps, but I’m still shivering.
    â€œI’m sorry, Joy. I wasn’t paying attention.” He’s looking at me with the same sympathetic frown as when he saw my scars.
    He stops next to the passenger door of his SUV. “Are you okay?”
    The words bounce around inside me, bringing tears to the surface. “I’m so tired of being afraid of nothing.” I fold my arms. The pavement feels like the only safe place to look.
    â€œIt’s not nothing.” He shakes his head. “Climb in. Relax on your own. I’ll be back with your phone.”
    I want to throw up. I’m so pathetic there aren’t words to describe me in this moment. A smell and a loud voice and suddenly I can’t function. I hate being such a mess. I jerk open the car door and slip inside.
    I focus on Uncle Rob in the store. The two guys are still standing behind him in line. Something about how they move and shove each other reminds me of some of Mom’s friends. I can almost feel the unwanted hands on me and I squirm in my seat, wishing that closing my eyes would help push the memory away. That life is back in California. I tell myself this over and over. A world away. A lifetime away. I’m not there anymore.
    I know this part. The part I can’t believe is that I might never have to be there again.
    â€œHere you go.”
    I jump, not realizing Uncle Rob’s returned.
    He hands me my phone. “You’re one number off the whole rest of the family.”
    â€œI’m sorry you had to—”
    â€œJoy.” His smile is wide. “You’re out with me. That alone is kind of a big deal for me. As a dad, I have this insane desire to protect you, to protect Trent—who wants no part of my protection—and to protect Tara.”
    I don’t fully understand, so I sit silent, hoping he’ll continue.
    â€œJoy, if you didn’t think I was crazy, I’d sit next to you all the time, and drive you places you want to go, because I want to make sure you’re safe. And not just that you’re physically safe, but that you feel safe too. It’s a dad thing.” He puts the car in gear and pulls out.
    â€œI feel safe with you,” I say.
    â€œGood.” He smiles. “You have no idea how happy that makes me. Maybe this is the first of many outings.” He lets out a long breath. “Think about what you want for dinner, and we’ll pick it up on the way