Chapter 10

I liein bed and watch as the golden orange light starts on the left side of my room and bleeds up the wall as the minutes tick by. I haven't left my little house in days. Sleep had finally taken me. But every time I woke up, my mind reeled. Jumping from one intense thought to the next. The one I preferred was the one that came from my neighbor.

"That's it, honey. Look at me."I brought him band-aids, and just before I knocked on that screen door, my ears perked at his deep, guttural moan. I'm a stranger invading his life. And according to most, Grant Foxx is not going to be my friendly neighbor. But I knew he was getting off and the nickname he so casually assigned to me was what came barreling out. I slapped my hand over my mouth and stepped back down the stairs slowly. I wanted to be the kind of woman to walk in there and lick up the mess he made. But I'm not her. Not yet.

I peer my head up and over the fluffy pillows surrounding me to look at the time. 10:47 a.m. A little more than five days since I've been in Fiasco. After my short stint as a Peeping Tom, I slept for a solid eighteen hours before I stepped outside again. I had a glass of water on the front steps of my porch and gave Julep about an hour's worth of belly rubs before I decided I wanted to go back to sleep. I earned a few lazy days, and sleep was what my body craved. Well, maybe not the only thing… "That's it, honey."

I'd do better with a routine, and time's the only currency I have a wealth of, so today I'll venture out and explore what Fiasco has to offer. Maybe find a grocery store so I can use the cute kitchenette in my new home and bake something. My eyes water when I think about the dinners I had as a kid. They were always simple and repetitive, but my dad had a sweet tooth and we got pretty darn great at baking.

I'll need to take Ace up on that job offer. The small amount of money I have from Bea won't last too long. I doubt Fiasco would be interested in bartering. Barter. Chills down my spine and make my stomach sour.

"You're taking something that's mine, pretty thief? You planning to barter?"

How could something as small as a single word drive me right back to the night that got me here? I want to erase it. What that monster said and the way he said it. How the calmness of his voice made my skin crawl even over the chaos. I hate that these thoughts and memories are sitting on the sidelines, waiting to remind me.

I just reacted. Swallowed the fear and moved as fast as I could. I squeeze my eyes closed, feeling disgusted by my choices. I keep thinking about the scream that came shortly after I yelled at Phillip to leave. A blood-curdling shriek that sounded as if someone was being tortured. And someone had been.

I don't know if I'll ever forget the way she collapsed into my arms and how I dragged her through the exit. The relief I felt as the firemen rushed toward us. The chills that worked their way around my body, burrowing deeper into my bones, the same ones I'm still experiencing. I'm banking on the idea that time will help erase some of it. Maybe not all of it, but enough that I'll stop jumping at loud noises and unexpected deep voices.

"Hello?!"

I sit up at the thumping knocks at my front door.

"Maybe she's not in there," a little voice says. Its tone instantly relaxes my shoulders and pulls a small smile from my lips.

"Maybe she ran away when she saw Uncle Grant so gross and sweaty," another little voice says, giggling. The idea has me shamefully trying to look out the window to catch a sweaty Grant Foxx.

"Lark, if we can balance on the railing, we might be able to see inside." I hear feet move around the small front porch.

My stomach rumbles as I drag my hands through my greasy hair. I could use a shower after spending so much time in bed.

"Miss, are you alive? Uncle Grant says he hasn't seen you all week and we've been waiting for you to come out."

The other voice chimes in, sounding defeated, "But you never come out."

I twist my hair into a bun as I open the front door, the humid air slapping me. But I recover quickly as two smiling little blondes stare back at me. I can guess how crunchy I must look by now based on how quickly their smiles shift to a horrified surprise.

I pull my sweatshirt up over my mouth. "Hi."

"Hi," the shorter little blonde says. "I'm Lily."

"I was just getting up." I look back at the rumpled bed.

"It's closer to lunch than breakfast," the older one says. "Our grandpa says the only people who sleep until lunchtime are lazy or depressed."

I snort a laugh. "Who's your grandpa?"

They both rush past me and through my front door. I look outside and don't see any adults. "Grizwald Foxx," the older one says with her shoulders back and chin up.

"Sounds like something my dad would have said." I smile at them.

They've clearly moved on from that discussion as Lily says, "We're so bored. We came looking for Uncle Grant, but he wasn't home."

While I'm usually not the biggest fan of kids, I'm relieved to have some company.

"How about I meet you both outside when I'm done showering? I'd love to pick some of those flowers you have tucked in your pocket." I tilt my chin toward the front pocket of Lily's shirt. The wispy yellow and purple flowers look like they're barely holding on to their stems, but if they're bored, that's something I know how to do.

"How didyou learn to make these look so pretty, Laney?" Lark asks as she wraps the stem of a purple aster around the wire hangers that were hanging empty in my closet.

Two hours after what felt like a life-changing shower, I've been talked into setting up a stand on the side of the road to sell flower crowns.

"I had a lot of jobs, but one of my favorites was working at a flower shop in high school. I mostly filled buckets and cleaned roses for the first few months, but after a while, I started paying attention to the way the designers would make bouquets." I pull a few stems of daisies and yellow aster together, balancing the colors on each side. "Anyway, it was a little shop, and I had a big, huge crush on one of the delivery drivers, so most of my attention went to him."

Lily laughs. "Gross."

But Lark just listens and watches as I pull the stems together to make a small, handheld bouquet. "What was his name?"

"Jonathan Gofronty." I smile, thinking about him. It feels like an entirely different life having that crush. "Anyway, I worked there until they fired me for spending most of my time flirting with him." I move around the flowers so the colors and sizes of the buds are balanced. "Well, flirting, and for telling customers to go to the bodega around the corner because it was cheaper."

"I don't even have a job yet and I would have told you that wasn't a good idea." Lark laughs. "Here, you need to reapply," she says, pulling the sunscreen stick from her backpack. It's not lost on me that I've been out here with these girls for a while now and not a single grown-up has come looking for them.

"Who is supposed to be watching you two today?" I ask her, but Lily interrupts before she can answer.

"Customer! Customer!" Lily shouts at us, waving at the car coming down the road. Her handwritten sign waves high above her head that reads: Flower Crowns $5. The black Ford F-150 slows down. Grant Foxx. I've learned a few things about the girl's Uncle Grant while we picked flowers behind his house today.

"Are you sure your uncle won't mind that we're picking all of these?"

Lily laughed like that's the funniest thing to say. "No! Uncle Grant lets us do whatever we want. And he'll be happy we picked these. He says," she lowered her voice, "Whatever makes my little flowers happy, makes me happy."

Little flowers. This man and his nicknames.

The truck comes to a rolling stop in front of our makeshift stand–two camping chairs they took from his back shed and a piece of plywood that balances on two upside-down sand pails. It's probably the most time I've ever spent doing anything with kids and it's the most fun I've had in a long time.

Julep barks from the front seat.

"Well…would you look at that? I've been looking for flower crowns," he says with a lightness to his tone. That damn baseball hat is back and all I can think as he comes around from the side of his truck is that a cowboy hat might look better. He lifts Lily in one arm and wraps his other along Lark's shoulders. "First week of summer break and you two are already trying to start a hustle?"

He spares me a glance as he smiles at the two girls. And my eyes jump to his forearms as they flex. I can't help but take him in. From his boots to the scruff along his jawline. It's shaved tighter than the last time I saw him. The thicker mustache is tamed back to the same length. "Haven't seen you in a while," he says without looking at me.

"Haven't heard you in a while either."

I watch as he swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing. He glances at me again as he hoists Lily up higher in his arms. That's when I notice the back of his neck is flushed red. And maybe I shouldn't push it. Maybe I should just let what I heard and the way this man clearly doesn't know what he thinks of me just fizzle out. But I'm feeling good, well rested, and a little more at ease today.

"How's your hand?" I ask, looking at his knuckles that were bloody. It takes all of my power to keep a straight face as I trail my eyes back to his.

His eyes flit to mine, tilting his head just a pinch to the side. "Got your band-aids, but I didn't need them. I took care of it on my own." And it's like I just got sucker punched, right in the gut with massive butterflies that swoop low and with so much force that they turn my cheeks hot.

As he starts asking the girls questions, his eyes stay trained on me. "Lark, your dad knows you're down here?"

Lily shifts her eyes to her older sister. And it's pretty clear by just one glance from one to the other that their dad has no idea where they might be. Shit.

"I should have asked them that sooner. I really hadn't thought about it until you were pulling up." I smile at Lark. "We got caught up having so much fun, time seemed to get away from us."

"I told him we were coming to your house." She holds out her arms, getting defensive. "Which is where we started, but then you weren't home, and Laney said she wanted to pick flowers."

I raise my hand. "Guilty."

"Next time, if I'm not home, just check in with him, okay? And as much as I'm glad Laney was nice and hung out with you guys, she's new around here and might have had things to do."

"I wasn't busy. Thank you for the company, girls," I say as I stand from behind our little table shop.

Lily smiles at me, speaking up eagerly before I go. "Laney, do you want to come to Uncle Ace's breakfast barbecue tonight?" She looks at Grant. "She's new. Like you said. And we can get to know her better that way."

He smiles at his niece, and then tilts his head my way. "Miss Laney probably has plans."

Lark chimes in, "She doesn't."

"I don't," I say with a laugh. "And breakfast for dinner sounds amazing."

He clears his throat, and then walks away with the girls. Julep jumps up and starts barking after them.

"See you at dinner, Laney," Lily yells out, followed up by a giggle as he hoists her over his shoulder.

I can't stop looking at him as he jokes around and smiles with his nieces. It's almost as sexy as hearing those words again. Almost.