“I’ll have it towed. I’ll let you know when the tow truck driver gets it. You just have to show up at Henry’s.”
“Done,” he said. “Should I come pick you up when I’m done?”
I sighed. “No, I’ll Uber it back to town and get my car.”
“That’ll cost a fortune.”
I shook my head, exasperated. “Trace is such an asshole.”
“No doubt.”
I took my phone and sent a massive group text to all our friends.
Whoever is feeding Trace information about me and where I’m going better stop. You are causing a shit load of problems for me. He slashed my tires this morning when he knew I had that court date so just stop.
I threw my phone in my bag, done with that, then remembered I needed to have the Scout towed and took it back out. I searched tow truck companies and pulled one up. A woman answered but her greeting was unintelligible.
“Hi,” I said, “do you have a flatbed tow?”
“Yes, ma’am,” she said, thick southern accent drawing out “ma’am.”
“I need my International Scout towed from my house to Henry’s in Bottle County, can you do that?”
“Both in Bottle County?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. It’s seventy-five dollars, that okay?”
I cringed. “Sure, pay over the phone?”
“Yes,” she said.
I gave her my card info.
“How long?” I asked.
“Within the hour.”
“Within the hour,” I repeated for Ansen’s benefit and he nodded at me. “Thanks so much.”
“Pleasure, ma’am. Thank you.”
I hung up.
“How much?” he asked.
“Seventy-five freaking dollars!”
“God, Lily.” He looked over at me. “Maybe you should report this one?” he hesitantly asked.
I looked at him. “Not yet,” I whispered.
“Why not?”
“I’m just hoping he’ll cool off and go away.”
He shook his head. “He’s obviously not, Lil.”
I let out a deep breath. “I can’t handle this.”
He looked at me sympathetically. “It’s not fair, but I think you should report him.”
“I don’t know.”
I was reluctant because I knew if I reported him, he’d come after me even worse, and Trace was far down the list.
“Listen, when I get to Henry’s, I’ll take pictures of the tires.”
“Not necess—”
“Just in case,” he interrupted. “Just in case, Lily.”
I nodded and we rode for a few minutes in silence.
“So you and Salinger?” he asked me.
I felt my face flame and tried to fight a smile.
“Stop.”
He playfully pushed my shoulder. “Dude, I really like him. He’s good to you.”
I shook my head. “Honesty time?”
“Go for it.”
“I like him, Ansen. So much.”
“Good.”
“No, it’s not good.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Because he is not into me, dude.”
“Bullshit.” He looked at me like I was an idiot. “That’s not how guys work. No guy would invest this much time in a girl if he wasn’t into you.”
I shook my head. “And when you help me out?” I asked him.
“That’s different. We grew up together. We’re like siblings.”
“I know, but that’s how Salinger is, or that’s how he sees me.” Ansen looked skeptical. “I’m serious, Ansen. He said something in New Orleans, like a sort of warning to me.”
“What did he say?”
“Remember that girl Lyric from Ashleigh’s party that night?”
“Yeah, kind of.”
“That chick is in love with him.”
“Damn, what does this guy have that I don’t?” he joshed.
“Shut up. Remember Katie much?”
The look he gave me made my mouth drop. “You don’t have to remind me of Katie,” he said in the most serious tone I’d ever heard Ansen talk. “Katie is all I think about.”
Satisfied, I moved on. “That Lyric girl wouldn’t stop sweating him. I guess she professed her undying love or some shit to him and he cut ties with her. He said, and I quote, I don’t understand how hard it is to take a hint. She just couldn’t be cool.”
“And you decided to take that as a warning?”
“Yes, Ansen! That was most definitely a hint.”
Ansen rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know, Lily, you might be reading too much into that.”
“I don’t think so, friendo.”
He shivered. “Will you stop calling me that already?” I laughed. “He was too good in that role, you know? A little too convincing.” He shivered once more and I laughed yet again.
Ansen smiled at me. “It’s good to see you smiling again.”
I sobered a little bit. “I’m starting to feel happy, Ansen, and I don’t deserve it.”
“Stop,” he whispered.
Two tears slipped down my face. “Mama’s not even cold in the ground yet, my sisters are in a stranger’s home, and I have the audacity to feel happy? How dare I indulge that part of myself?”
“That’s where you’re wrong. It’s not an indulgence. It’s a right. Can’t you see what kind of person you’ve become? You’re transformed. You’ve quit drugs, got a job, revealed a pretty extraordinary talent, if I do say so myself, fixed up your house, and are fighting to get your sisters back. If you don’t have the right to feel happy, then I don’t know who does.”
I shook my head and stared at my lap as the tears fell on my hands. “How can I feel happy when our mother is gone?”
“You’re confusing the feelings, goofball. You’re not happy because your mother is gone. The grief you feel for the loss of your mom and the happiness you experience because you’re becoming a person worthy of happiness is mutually exclusive. You’re allowed to know happiness and sadness all at once, Lily. It’s a part of real life.”
“Maybe,” I whispered, but I wasn’t entirely convinced.
“Anyway,” he said as we pulled up to the courthouse, “tell your sisters Ansen says hi and that he loves them.”
I smiled at him. “I will.”
I handed him my card and my keys and squeezed his hand as I slid out of his car.
“Thanks, moron.”
“You’re welcome, dummy.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“YOU’RE LATE,” Sylvia whispered to me when I entered the courthouse.
“So sorry,” I told her, without explaining why.
I knew telling her about the things Trace had done couldn’t possibly help my case, nor would it endear her to me. I’m an ex-drug addict who had shifted her life, yes, but she’d probably seen hundreds of dysfunctional people make changes only to fall right back into dysfunction. Excuses probably weren’t tolerated, and I wouldn’t blame her. So I kept my mouth shut.
“Did you bring your paperwork?” she asked. “The pictures?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good.” She took in my appearance. “You look nice. Great job.”
“Thanks.”
I clenched my hands together then tucked them into my sides.
“Nervous?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Don’t worry. We have a very good chance of getting visitation today.” She smiled at me. “Be hopeful.”
I let out a nervous sigh and smiled.
“How is the house coming along?” she asked.
I opened my messenger bag and took out the photos. “See for yourself?”
She took them in her hand and started flipping through them. “Wow. Wow. Wow!” she said with every flip of a photo. “Lily, this is incredible.”
I smiled at her. “Thank you.”
She looked at me. “You have an eye for design.”
“Thank you.” I giggled. “Most of everything you see there we got in the clearance section of home improvement stores.”
“We?”
I felt my face grow hot. “Yeah, my friend Salinger has helped me out a lot. I couldn’t have done it without him.”
“A good friend, methinks.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Well, you can’t tell it’s clearance stuff. Seriously, Lily. It’s very pretty. Very, uh,” she said, snapping her fingers and looking up at the ceiling, “boho modern.”
“Thanks and I’m having the roof replaced this Friday.”
“And the floors?” she asked. “Faye Briar will mention those at your eventual custody hearing.”
“As soon as I’m done replacing the roof, I’ll start on the floors. It’s the last thing I need to improve.”
She smiled at me. “Very good.”
My phone indicated a text and I brought it out.
Good luck, Little. Let me know how it goes.
I smiled to myself.