Patrick smiled. “I collect them.”
More gnomes lined the pathway around the side of the house, all with different-colored hats. The backyard was an explosion of color, flowers all over the place, statues of mythological creatures cavorting in random locations, some with broken noses or missing arms. Nothing matched, and there didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to anything. Vegetable beds blended into flower beds, trees wrapped around fences. Metal wind chimes dangled from some branches, wooden ones from others. Flower wheels spun in lazy circles.
Despite the disorder, it was a strange kind of beautiful.
“When I was in prison, I told myself I’d have a garden one day,” Patrick said beside me. I glanced at him. He was smiling with pride. He bent down, righted a gnome that had been kicked over. “Cats,” he said.
Inside, the house was warm and cheery. Crocheted blankets in bright colors were tossed over mismatched couches. Plants were crowded into every window, their leaves reaching toward the sun. The walls were covered in photos with different-colored frames. Cats were sleeping on the back of the couch and on the chairs, or on a large scratching post in the corner of the room, the carpet frayed. I counted ten cats, then lost track. A bird chirped loudly from a cage in the kitchen—two more cats watching from the floor, their tails flicking.
Patrick’s wife also turned out to be in great shape, her skin tanned, her smile big. She looked about the same age as Patrick, but her hair was blond, pulled back into a ponytail. She was wearing tight black shorts, running shoes, and a hot pink tank top.
“Come in, come in. I’m Karen. Would you like a cup of tea? Something to eat? A hot shower?”
“Do you have somewhere my sister can lie down?” Dani said. Courtney was almost swaying on her feet, her eyelids at half-mast.
“Of course.” Karen took us down a small hallway to a back bedroom with two beds. Courtney curled up in one, her hands covering her face.
“I’ll make you something to eat.” Karen’s voice was hushed, her face solemn. She closed the door behind her.
“I gave her another pill,” Dani said, staring intently at Courtney, as though she were counting her breaths, willing her to keep going.
“You’re supposed to be careful with those,” I said.
“She started crying on the bus and kept asking for it. She said it helped her forget.” She looked at me. “Were you okay, walking to the park?”
“Yeah.” I nodded toward the door. “What do you think of them?”
“They seem nice.”
“Don’t you think it’s weird? Them helping us like this?”
“Some people are just like that, Jess. It makes them feel good inside.”
“Where are their kids?”
“I don’t think they have any. But I saw some photos of kids at a gym.”
Sounds and scents of food being cooked wafted down the hall.
“She’s making lunch,” I said. “Do you want to come out?”
“I’m going to stay with Courtney.” She sat down on the bed and stroked her hair. Courtney moaned, made a panicked sound.
“Shhh,” Dani whispered. Courtney quieted, her breath deepening again.
“Do you think they’ll find us?” I said.
“The police … or them?”
“Both.”
A pause. “No, I bet we’re okay.” But I heard the uncertainty in her voice. She curled up next to Courtney, pressed her face into her shoulder.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Karen heaped my plate full of spaghetti I wolfed down, barely noticing the fat black-and-white cat batting at my bare toes until I was finished. Then I rubbed his warm belly with my foot as I watched Karen move around the kitchen. I liked how she talked to herself while she worked. “Now, where did I put those tongs this time?” “Going to have to get Patrick to fix that sink again.” It reminded me of my mom talking to the food when she was cooking, wrestling the chicken into the crock pot and ordering it to stay, dammit!
Mom wasn’t a fancy cook, sticking to mostly fried food or meats and potatoes, but the kitchen always smelled good—and the fridge was full. She told me once that she didn’t have much money when she was a kid and always dreamed of having a full fridge. She would’ve liked Karen.
I offered to help clean up.
“That’s okay, sweetie,” Karen said. “You have a shower or bath or whatever you like and get some rest. You can stay here tonight and we’ll talk tomorrow.”