Chapter 18 #2
Blair shoots me an appreciative glance. “I can’t see you wearing a baseball uniform. I’m too used to seeing you in flannel or those orange overalls you favor.” She tilts her head at me, giving me a coy smile. “Not that those are a bad look on you. You pull off lumberjack very well, Santi.”
I throw back my head and laugh. “I can pull off anything. Maybe later I’ll show you pictures of me in my uniform.”
“You don’t still have it? Shame, you could’ve modeled it for me.”
I shoot her a wink. “You want to see me in my baseball uniform? Done.”
Blair giggles as she nudges me with her shoulder. “You’re just looking to show off.”
“Damn right I am.”
“So, you’ve lived in Caddawalk your whole life? Never left?” she asks me curiously as she stares into a candy shop window that we pass.
“Never,” I confirm. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. I’ve been on a few vacations and left for college, but for the most part, yeah I’ve always lived here. If I want to spice things up then Pittsburgh isn’t all that far of a drive. But, really, I get the best of everything right here.”
Blair nods. “I get that. What about your parents? Are they still here in Caddawalk?”
“Kind of,” I admit with a shrug. “They’re both in the cemetery a few blocks away.”
Beside me, Blair stiffens. “Oh, Santi, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—”
“It’s fine,” I promise, cutting her off.
“It was hard losing them both but I think I’m making them proud so that gets me through it.
Mom died in a car accident when I was fifteen and Dad died a few years later on the job.
He was a cop and, while you don’t expect shit like that to happen, it didn’t really come as a surprise either.
They’re together now and that gives me some peace.
” I pause to swallow the grief threatening to well up and ruin the moment.
When I get it under control I continue. “I own the house that I grew up in now and sometimes I feel like I can sense them when I walk through the front door. It’s why I haven’t moved in with Ledger, despite him offering a thousand times. ”
“Oh, that sounds… nice. To feel close to them in some way, I mean,” Blair murmurs softly.
Determined to lighten the mood, I switch gears. “What about you?” I ask. “Where’d you grow up?”
Blair hums thoughtfully and it makes me curious. I couldn’t find anything online about her when I did my usual background check on people. It’s like she doesn’t exist. Is that a clever hitman ability—erasing your existence from typical databases?
She opens her mouth to answer but all that comes out is a croak. Giving me a sheepish smile, she clears her throat and tries again. “I was about to give you The Lie but I guess I don’t have to do that.”
“The Lie?”
Blair nods. “Yeah, I have a whole backstory about my childhood. Well, not my childhood but CeCe’s—the alias I was using before I got here.”
Alias. Holy fuck, that’s so cool. I grin as I think about all the fun she must’ve had coming up with the stories and pretending to be someone else.
“Anyway, to honestly answer your question—I’ve grown up nowhere? Everywhere? I don’t really know how to answer that. We just kept moving, never staying anywhere for very long.”
“We? You mean you and your dad? Or did your mom come with you?”
Blair shakes her head slowly. “No, my mom died when I was young. It’s been just me and Dad.”
I wonder what her dad’s like and if I’ll ever get to meet him. “Did he teach you all his cool hitman-y tricks and stuff?”
Blair wrings her hands in front of her as she looks around. “Um, I guess so? I wouldn’t say it's cool, though. More like… imperative to my survival.”
My excitement dims. Well, that’s not the answer I expected. That’s actually kind of sad.
“Wait, are you telling me your whole life has been just one big survival game?” I ask her, frowning.
When Blair doesn’t answer, I check her expression to make sure I didn’t say anything to upset her.
Then I do a double take. Blair’s not casually looking around as I’d thought before.
Her eyes aren’t bright with interest as they slide over Main Street.
They’re sharp as they skim along rooftops, lock onto the alleys between stores on both sides of the street, and when she does look into the large display windows it’s to check her surroundings in the reflection.
“Blair?”
“What? Oh, um…” She presses her lips together as she considers my question. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“What about in high school? Did you play sports? Or, like, go to summer camp? I can’t see you as a theater kid but—”
Blair shoots me a furtive glance. “Santi, are we playing twenty-one questions or something?”
“Sorry, are they bothering you? That wasn’t my intention. I just wanted to—”
“No,” Blair interrupts with a light sigh.
“Well, yeah, a little. But only because I’m not used to talking about my life.
That and the more you ask me about the normal stuff that kids did growing up, it only reminds me how different I am from you, and probably everyone we’re walking by. It’s uncomfortable.”
Without thinking, I reach out and take her hand. I half expect her to pull away but Blair doesn’t. She simply glances down to where we’re joined, then up to my face. I give her my best smile.
“We’re not different. Not too much anyway,” I promise. “If you don’t want to talk anymore about your past you don’t have to.”
Blair considers this for a moment, then shoots me an anxious look from the corner of her eye.
“Thanks, Santi. I will tell you about it, just… not now.” She promises, her voice softening as she speaks.
“I like that when I’m with you, I can have fun.
I didn’t grow up where there was a lot of banter or jokes, or really even any type of conversation that wasn’t serious.
With you, I get all that and more. And it’s not just that, I don’t have to pretend with you.
I can be myself which is so nice. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so comfortable.
You’re like…” She searches for a word as a smile pulls at her lips.
“A key, I guess. You’ve unlocked the fun side of me and I want to enjoy it. I want to enjoy you.”
Well, damn. I can feel cupid’s stupid little arrow striking me right in the heart. If I wasn’t already in the process of falling head over heels for the woman beside me, I would’ve started right now.
I squeeze her hand and grin. “You’re going to have to write all that down so I can swoon over every word you just said later, okay?”
Blair laughs in response. “Sure, Santi. I’ll do that for you.”
“Perfect! Look, there’s the truck. Let’s throw your stuff in there,” I offer, dragging her down a street that branches off the main drag. “Then, let’s go to Janet’s Janky Jukebox.”