Then Reno’s laugh cut off and his boots clomped on the floor until he was beside me. The man’s eyes flicked up and he scooped the unfolded towels from my hands and hurried away. I was left kneeling on the floor.
“You did good,” Reno said, peeking into my cart. “Real good.”
“You might want to look through it all and check out the prices. I was going to get that table up there, but the box was too heavy,” I said, pointing at the end table as I stood up.
Reno lifted the box with one arm and slammed it over his cart. “You done? Or do you want me to wait?”
“No, I got everything and then some.” I reached in the cart and held up a few things. “You weren’t specific, but these mirrors are fifty dollars, so—”
“Put them back in,” he said. “She needs mirrors. We’re not thrift shopping, so if there’s anything you were holding back on, then grab it. We need to head out.”
I glanced at his cart and there was a mix of odds and ends. Lots of food, but also a toolbox, sealant or whatever that gooey stuff was that guys liked to buy in giant tubes, a lamp, paint, mops, and even a few small appliances.
“Let’s go,” he said. “Before the rain starts up again.”
After we loaded up the bed of the truck, Reno agreed to head back to my trailer. I wanted to check if Trevor had decided to come back home.
A burden had been lifted from my shoulders after I’d deposited the money back into the business account early that morning. I stuffed Sanchez in my mental closet and locked the door so I wouldn’t let the fear drive me to doing something stupid, like using the money to skip town. It wasn’t worth the risk of hurting anyone else around me. My grandma had raised me to clean up after myself, and Sanchez was going to require a tremendously large mop.
I dashed inside my trailer and looked around. No sign of Trevor. Disappointed and a little concerned, I took a seat on my sofa and tried calling him again. No answer. He wasn’t even responding to my text messages. It broke my heart because I loved Trevor and didn’t want him to despise me. I couldn’t have imagined Sanchez would hurt one of my friends. I shuddered to think that had I not gone to the party, who knows what would have happened to me.
Reno walked in with two sacks and set them on the table.
“Is it raining?” I asked. Reno didn’t have a cover on the bed of the truck and the rain would ruin some of the items.
He returned with plastic sacks hanging all the way up his arms and set them down on the floor. I got up and reached outside the door with my palm up. No rain, but the clouds were darkening.
Reno went out to the truck and returned with the shelf under his arm and several more of the larger bags.
“We can head out now if you want. You don’t have to bring all this inside; it doesn’t look like it’s going to rain just yet,” I said.
He stepped inside and set everything down. “This is all yours.”
Hand to God, my heart stopped in my chest and I made a soundless gasp. “What are you talking about?”
Reno put the flat of his hands on the ceiling, as if he were trying to make more room for his height. His head just touched the ceiling, so he made it a point to lower his chin when walking around. “I’m talking about the fact that I don’t see any need for you to be living in these conditions. You were dealt a bad hand, but I don’t like waking up in the morning and finding nothing in your cabinets but a bag of cheap rice and cereal. I don’t like seeing a blanket on your bed with stains, or a leak in your roof and windows, or one sorry-ass pillow on your sofa—if you want to call that a sofa. As long as you have to live here, I’m going to make sure you got what you need.”
He went out the door and I sank onto the small couch in complete and utter shock. What I had in my cart alone was in the hundreds! Reno hadn’t just taken me out to dinner on our first date—he’d bought me groceries. Just the thought of it brought tears to my eyes and I covered my face. Bags rattled and then he knelt in front of me, spreading his arms across my legs.
“I’m going to look after you. No more walking to work, because I’m lending you the truck. I bought a strong lock for your door and I’m going to fix the leaks in your roof. It’s a tight space, but I’ll make room for the microwave. This isn’t a bad place; I’ve seen a lot of poverty in my time and this doesn’t even come close. But it’s not safe, and it could be a whole lot better with a little work. So I’m going to make it better, and that’s the deal. I’m also going to stay with you until I feel like you’re not in any trouble.”
“But Reno—”
“No buts.”