She closes her eyes briefly, then nods as she looks up at me. “Yes, we did. Lots and lots of kids. We tried for a few years, but it wasn’t in the cards for us. We’re okay with it now, but it is wonderful having you here.” She reaches out for me and squeezes my hand. “I think your Uncle Danny sees you as the daughter he never had. Talk about overprotective.” She lets a quiet laugh slip past her lips, then feigns seriousness with a straight face. “Don’t tell him where you’re going today.”
“Got it,” I reply, reaching for a few more grapes. I step away from the table, only to remember something just before I head out of the kitchen. “Do I have a curfew?” I ask in the doorway, watching Hattie lift her glass to her mouth.
“You’re twenty-two years old, darlin.’ I don’t think you should have a curfew.” She tips the glass to take a drink, but freezes, lowering it back down a few inches. Her back straightens in her chair, and caution tightens her frown. “I just ask that if you aren’t planning on coming home for the night, you give us a head’s up, okay? I don’t need your Uncle Danny pacing outside with his shotgun.”
I pinch my lips together, trying not to smile. “Okay.”
Hattie rolls her eyes. “You think I’m joking,” she says under her breath before finally taking a drink of her tea.
I can’t imagine what that would look like, and I don’t have the desire to find out.
Hattie smiles at me, and I wave, quietly slipping out the front door in case Danny is still around.
ON THE WAY TO THE Verizon store, I stop at a red light just outside the downtown part of Ruxton where all the small businesses and family owned establishments are located. A beautiful church sits just off the main road, its doors open to allow access to the line of people slowly inching forward out of the rain. A white sign is propped against one of the doors. HOLY CROSS SOUP KITCHEN is written in bold lettering across it, with other words written below that I can’t make out from this distance. I take another look at the people lined up, and see something in common amongst the crowd. Something very familiar to me. The car behind me beeps, and I glance up at the green light before moving through the intersection.
I park out front of the Verizon store, pulling into a spot next to the highest lifted truck I’ve ever seen. The tires, coated in thick mud, are eye level with the window of my Cavalier.
Eye level.
I’d need a ladder or one hell of a boost to get up in that thing.
As I direct my attention to the floor to ceiling front window of the store, I scan for Reed’s face through the light crowd of people, thinking maybe he’ll be watching out for me. I don’t see him, and I panic that maybe the light drizzle we’ve had all day wasn’t enough for him to be free for me. Maybe he needed a monsoon, or something worthy of an ark.
Don’t get down. There’s still a chance he’ll be here.
I palm the phone I’m about to replace and open up a new text.
Me: I just wanted to let you know I’ll be mailing this back to you today. Thank you for letting me use it.
Turn it off. Turn it off and don’t give him the chance.
The phone vibrates against my hand. So quick. Too quick.
Rocco: Keep it. You’ll need it when you move back in.
“No, I won’t,” I whisper to the silence of my car.
I won’t need it. I won’t move back in. My finger moves to the button that shuts Rocco out of my life. It vibrates.
Rocco: No one but me.
Too fucking quick.
I should break this, send it back to him in pieces with a note attached. Fuck you. I’m never coming back. Guilt would riddle me, and I don’t want that. I don’t want anything connecting me to that man. Not even remorse.
The phone is sealed in the envelope lying on my passenger seat. Working. Intact. And still powered on. He can charge the shit himself.
After locking up my car, I dart inside and avoid most of the rain, catching a few drops on my forearm that’s shielding my eyes. I spot Reed at the back of the store as my hand collects the wetness off my skin.
He’s talking to a young woman wearing an employee polo shirt and an overplayed smile. My shoulders push back as I watch the two of them, but mainly him.
He’s leaning against the counter, keeping his body angled and all of his attention on the woman behind it. His profile lifts into a smile, and she reaches out and places a hand on his arm. Touching. Slowly moving her hand closer to his wrist. I stop breathing when Reed leans in and whispers something to her. I’m sure it has nothing to do with a phone plan, and I’m also positive her salary isn’t based on flirting. I decide two things in that moment as I watch the two of them.
One, I’m not going to let this bother me. I’ve never felt jealousy before, and if that’s what I’m feeling right now, if that’s what’s causing my stomach to tighten into an unforgiving knot, I don’t want to feel it.
And two, if anyone in this store is getting commission off my sale, it’s definitely not going to be her.
“Hi, welcome to Verizon. How can I help you today?”