My mind wanders back to this morning.
I’d rather gouge my eyes out with a rusty spoon than spend my Saturday morning decorating, but I reminded myself I was doing this for Sam. On our way to the community hall I swear someone is following us in a van, but as we turn off main street, it carries on driving ahead and I relax.
As soon as we get there, Nora is bossing everyone around like she owns the place, and she calls me Kayleigh. I can’t take it, I snap. “Look, Nora, you’ve been coming to our salon for over three years now and I’ve corrected you every single time. It’s Keeley, you know that by now, let’s not be facetious. I think your table layouts are too formal, they aren’t in the right places for people to mingle and actually get to enjoy themselves without feeling rigid and regimented. So no, it’s not to my taste.” I let that settle in for a second. “And since you put me and Sam here in charge of decorating, I think that should include the tables and bales that we organized, don’t you?”
She doesn’t like being told what for, she’s used to being the one dishing out the passive aggressiveness, so she sulks in the corner on a stool like a naughty school child with a sour look on her face.
I turn around to see Sam run into the hall carrying the boxes from the car in her hands with wide eyes. “You okay, Sam?”
She looks at me and smiles, telling me that everything’s fine, someone creepy looking saved her from a broken toe apparently and in my already touchy mood, my ears perk up. “What do you mean creepy looking? You can’t just describe people like that.”
I’m hanging on her every word now, but force out a laugh to not make me sound so serious.
“You know the way some guys look at women, like they’re pieces of meat. It weirds me out, like I said, no biggie.”
“Yeah, so what did he look like?” I ask, heart pounding in my chest.
“You okay, Kee? Why are you so interested in this guy?” She asks, giving me a curious look.
She puts down the boxes she’s carrying on a nearby table and I shrug. “I’m not, I just want to know who to look out for in case he comes creeping around here again. Can’t be too careful these days, Sam.”
She looks around the hall and gives me a ‘yeah right’ look. “What happened to not judging a book by its cover? We’re safe around here, Kee, but if you really must know, he was just one of those bikers that you see on movies with the long hair.”
At her words, my world tips upside down. It could just be a coincidence? Then again, when have I ever seen a biker around Little Hollow before? My eyes widen and I start to feel like I can’t breathe. Everything is muted as Sam asks me what’s wrong, and I shake my head. There’s no way I’m telling Sam anything about my past, she’ll look at me in a whole different light, and it sure as hell won’t be a good light.
I start filling my lungs with big gulps of air and my breathing starts to calm. She tells me to go home but I wave her off, I’m not leaving her on her own.
I pick up two boxes with shaky arms.
Are they here for me? Maybe they’re here for the garage? They might’ve heard or seen Lewis’s talent at engraving the bikes?
Yeah, it has to be that. I won’t let myself think otherwise.
Focusing on the task at hand, I put my all into making the community hall look like a country girls wet dream. Bunting, centerpieces with plastic sunflowers wrapped with blue ribbon in metal jugs, and fake horseshoes hanging from the ceiling.
She has her head too involved in this fundraiser so I don’t think she even notices my nervous mood as we work our way through our insurance papers. After reading and signing every single piece of paper, and listening to Sam bitching on about it for a while, I send her for a shower so we can start getting ready for tonight.
I rest my elbows on the counter and hang my head in my hands with a sigh. This morning has spooked me more than I thought. I just want to stay holed up in the apartment and never come out, but I’ll be safe in a room full of people, surely?
I jump and nearly pee my pants when the buzzer goes off, signaling someone is downstairs. I tense up and tiptoe over to the small window facing the front of the salon and breathe in a sigh of relief seeing it’s just Sam’s mom, Cindy.
I run down the apartment stairs and unlock the salon door, giving her a quick smile and invite her in. “Sam’s just in the shower, can I get you a drink?”
I tense, hoping she won’t ask for an alcoholic drink, I can’t be bothered arguing over the fact that I won’t ever feed her addiction, but looking at her now, I notice she looks sober. Well that’s unexpected.
Sam’s mom is an alcoholic and she likes to turn up from time to time to remind Sam what a shitty daughter she is, so I’m not holding my breath that this time will be any different.