Chapter 4 #2
That was what I did. I followed him upstairs, thump, thump, thump, to the guest room that didn’t seem to get a lot of use.
Everything had a thin layer of dust but it was filled with real furniture and all that interested me was taking off this terrible bra and throwing it out the window.
The dress, too. When Silas shut the door, I removed them, except then there was nothing to do but sleep in only my undies and that seemed inappropriate in a house with him and his little sister.
There was no lock on the door, either, but there was no helping it.
I washed my face, rinsed out my mouth, and performed a version of my security routine from my apartment.
Then I crawled into the bed, which was a little musty but not that bad, and closed my eyes.
It seemed like it was only a few seconds later that they flew back open.
“Who are you?” The little girl standing next to my bed, Lyra, shoved back her hair. “Why the hell are you naked?”
“Don’t you cuss at me, young lady,” I said, and I heard all the Kentucky in my voice.
She blinked and folded her lips closed. That gave me hope for her, because I saw that this girl knew the difference between right and wrong. Also, I saw that the chair I’d put in front of the door had done nothing to prevent visitors.
I scooted my way up to sit against the headboard, keeping the sheet pulled around me. “I’m mostly and not totally naked because I didn’t have anything to sleep in,” I said. “My dress was too uncomfortable. Usually, I wear shorts and a t-shirt, like what you have on.”
She looked down at herself and I might have seen a slight nod.
“Is your brother awake?” I asked, and now she shook her head a little.
I looked at my phone and saw that it was past ten in the morning, and sunlight was streaming through the sheer curtains on the windows.
“Did you eat yet?” Another little shake.
“If you go down to the kitchen, I’ll get dressed and see what I can make for you. ”
Now she just stared, like that was a very unusual concept. “I can make breakfast for myself,” she told me.
“Ok, then I’ll make something for myself, too,” I said, and I smiled at her. “You could share mine if you want.”
She did. She ate her piece of toast and then the eggs I’d made, along with several pancakes.
They had a pretty well-stocked refrigerator and the cupboards had food, too, but a lot of the stuff was expired or just looked strange.
Seeing all that she consumed, I wasn’t sure if she’d had dinner the night before and looking at the mix of weird ingredients they had, I wasn’t sure how they could have made a full meal.
We both heard Silas get up with a big thump as his feet hit his bedroom floor, and then we also heard the sound of water running before more thumps told me that he was on his way to join us. “Pancakes?” he asked when he came through the kitchen door.
“Good morning,” I said, and Lyra flew off her chair to hug him tightly. When he sat on a chair, she sat on his lap. “Do you eat in the morning?”
“When someone makes pancakes and scrambled eggs, I sure as hell do,” he answered, and I frowned at him.
No wonder his sister was cussing at strangers.
“You dressed up to cook, too,” he noted, pointing at me.
Since I hadn’t had anything else, I’d had to re-don the bra and dress from the night before and it was even more uncomfortable.
It also looked very strange in this kitchen, with the needlepoint on the wall that said “God Bless Us.”
“Holy shit. These are delicious,” he said as he finished a pancake. He had folded the entire thing onto his fork and eaten it whole. “Why are you making that face?” He imitated my expression, eyebrows drawn down and lips pinched.
“You should watch your language,” I suggested. “Want more?”
He did, and so did Lyra. I exhausted my batter and then put the pitcher into the sink. Someone (probably his grandma) had done a lot of cooking in this kitchen because I’d found all the tools and implements I’d needed without a problem.
“Ok,” I said, wiping my hands as I turned to them. “I need to get going.”
“Where?” Lyra asked. She hadn’t spoken much as I’d cooked but she had answered a few simple questions. Maybe she felt more comfortable with her brother here.
“I need to get back to my apartment and change,” I said, and looked down at the dress. Now it was inappropriate and also smudged with some flour and batter.
“I don’t like that,” Silas stated.
“You’ve made your feelings about my outfit very clear—”
“No, I mean that I don’t like you going to that apartment,” he said. “Even in the daytime, that’s a terrible street. Lyra and I can come with you.”
We hadn’t talked about him escorting me places as part of our agreement, but in fact, we hadn’t gone over any details because I had been close to falling asleep on the table.
I didn’t want to bring it up now, either, since she didn’t need to know that her brother had thought he’d have to coerce me into being her friend.
Instead I asked, “How would you get home with no car?”
“I’ll get us one, a rideshare.”
“Would you order it by using an app on your smartphone, the one you pretended not to have?”
“Huh? When did I do that?” he asked, and he did seem genuinely confused.
“Are we leaving? I have to pee first,” Lyra announced.
“Go,” he told her, but then asked, “Did you brush your teeth?” She scampered off but he followed, telling me that he was going to check on her because she usually just wet the bristles.
I took another tour of the house, which still looked so pleasant in the daylight.
Dusty and slightly disheveled, yes, but I loved all the built-ins and the fireplace, and I loved that someone (probably his grandmother again) had worked to make this feel like a home.
There were pretty pictures on the walls and rugs under my feet on the wood floors.
The backyard, which I stepped into, was as well-kept as the front.
Silas must have felt more comfortable with a mower than with a dusting cloth, because this was neat as a pin.
There was a small, detached garage and I walked over to look through the glass window in the door. No car, but I did spot a few bikes.
“Ready?” he called to me. Both he and Lyra were out in the driveway, and while he looked clean and refreshed, she was…
not. She had put on a different shirt, since the previous one had suffered from a syrup spill, but it was wrinkled and her hair was still as tangled as before, like she hadn’t touched it with a brush in more than a minute.
But at least she’d had a good breakfast.
I argued with him a little, saying that they didn’t need to give up more of their Sunday to accompany me. “Is my street the best place for everyone?” I asked, and I raised my eyebrows at his sister.
“I’ll keep an eye on you two and we owe you for the pancakes. We pay our debts, right, Ly?”
She glanced at me and shrugged, but once we were all in the car, she did talk more.
Only to him, but that was ok because I was also listening.
She told him about the book she had brought with her, a mystery that (to my eavesdropping ears) sounded much too mature for a seven-year-old.
But she was so excited when she talked about the plot and she also told him about a story that she was writing herself, another mystery.
Silas listened. He obviously did, because he asked her questions back that were specific and detailed, and his comments weren’t just things like “sounds good” or “sure, sure,” phrases that I had often heard when I’d tried to discuss something important to me on car rides with my ex.
They talked for the twenty-two minutes over to my apartment (not sixteen as my phone tried to deceive me).
“Why are you smiling?” he asked as we got closer. “Looking forward to climbing the three flights of stairs?”
“No, not in these shoes. It’s nice to listen to you two,” I explained, but when I glanced into the back, Lyra was scowling. She didn’t say another word, either, not even when I parked and told them to come up to my apartment to wait there for their ride.
“You know, the one you ordered on your phone,” I said, but he shook his head.
“You just opened your car door. Did you check around before you did that?” he asked me.
“Um, no, I forgot.”
“Next time,” he suggested, and apparently he had already looked because we all got out. He held his sister’s hand as we crossed the street and he visually cleared the lobby and the stairwell before he let us enter either one. My hallway was also clear, but…
“Oh, no!” I froze and pointed at my apartment door, which gaped open.
“Camille, take my sister to the car,” Silas said immediately. “Lock the doors and start the engine. I’ll find out what’s happening. Go.”
“What?”
“Go,” he repeated and he looked Lyra. She did what he said and started to run back down the stairs, and I followed as fast as I could so that she wouldn’t be alone.
I didn’t want to scare her but I was scared myself, and I had no idea what or who he might find.
My door had been torn off the hinges like it had been kicked, and if someone had that much strength and violence in them?
“Try your handle and make sure it’s locked,” I told Lyra once we were in the car. I attempted to keep my voice steady.
“Silas won’t let anybody hurt him. Or me,” she announced. She sounded utterly confident and I wished that I felt the same way. I said that I was glad and I kept my eyes glued on the building, waiting, as she dove into her book.
Not much later, he did come out—and I felt my body sag and heard myself let out a huge breath. Since the car was still running, I rolled down the window. “What happened? Did you call the police yet?” I asked anxiously. “I didn’t want to do it while you were still inside.”