Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
CHRISTINE
“Lady, you gonna pay or what?”
I snap back to the man standing on the sidewalk in front of me—squat, balding, and wearing a shirt far too small to cover his bulging stomach.
Definitely not the twenty-three-year-old who’s taken up permanent residence in my thoughts for the past week. It’s entirely involuntary. I’ll just be going on with my day when a flash of that night will appear—something small. A moment. A groan. A whisper.
Or, today, as chance would have it, his hand slapping my ass.
I clear my throat and shake my head, my brain not at all liking connecting the sensation with the man standing in front of me.
“Here.” I thrust the stack of bills toward him, thinking that’ll be the end of it, but then he licks a finger and slowly starts to count. “It’s all there,” I say, utterly failing at keeping the impatience from my voice.
He pauses halfway through the stack, shakes his head, then starts again from the beginning.
I turn away, inspecting the bungee cords securing the couch to the bed of the truck. Not that I’d be able to tell if there was something wrong. His son—who slipped back into their house the moment they finished strapping the couch in—seemed to know what he was doing though.
“All right,” grunts the man behind me. “All here.”
Like I said.
“Pleasure doing business with you.”
I say nothing back because I am not a liar. I’m just glad the couch looks like the picture online. When I pulled up and saw him …well, I’ll admit I had my doubts.
It’s not like this is my first rodeo. Once I graduated from living out of my car at eighteen, my first place was furnished almost exclusively with secondhand marketplace finds and more than one piece of furniture I picked up off the side of the road.
But a near decade of living on the other side of the tracks has a funny way of making you forget.
At least Liam loaned me his truck for the day, otherwise there’s no way I’d be able to get this thing home. I leave the couch in the truck after I pull in the driveway since Liam offered to help carry it in when he swings by to swap our cars out.
I was never particularly close with Julian’s other children, seeing as they were all mostly adults and moved out before he and I even met. So the complete radio silence from them after the divorce wasn’t unexpected.
But Liam sticking around was.
He wasn’t rude, but I knew he never warmed up to me. But despite being twenty years older than Casey, he’s always been the best with him, so whether he liked me or not, I’ve had a soft spot for him.
Maybe I also see a little of myself in him. Someone else who never quite belonged in that house. The difference, of course, being I spent the last eight years doing everything in my power to earn my way in, and he did everything in his power to fight his way out.
I carry the bags from my earlier errands inside and dump them on the kitchen counter. I forgot how much stuff you need in a house—plates, utensils, trash cans, scissors, first aid kit, laundry baskets, extra sheets, towels. I went to the store to grab a few things…then realized I didn’t have anything and started throwing things into my cart at random.
I’m down to unpacking the last bag when the doorbell rings. I barely have the door open before Casey cries out, “Mom, can-I-take-Liam’s-skate-camp?”
I blink, his voice blending into one long word.
Liam uncrosses his arms and ruffles Casey’s hair with a smirk. “A friend and I are doing a skating camp for the next three weeks. Ages seven to ten.”
“Which means I’m old enough now!” cries Casey.
“We have one spot left,” adds Liam. “It starts next week.”
“So can I do it? Art camp ends this week!”
My eyes ping-pong between the two of them as I try not to let my immediate reaction show on my face. As much as I like Liam, I don’t necessarily want Casey following in his footsteps, at least where the dozens of tattoos and flipping around on a flimsy little board are concerned.
“Why don’t you go on inside, buddy?” says Liam.
Casey’s head pops up as if something brilliant occurred to him. “Mom, did you get the fruit snacks?”
I chuckle a little. “Left a pack on the table for you.”
“Yes!”
He darts inside without another word, and my eyes roll back to meet Liam’s.
“I promise it’s age appropriate and safe. They all wear helmets and a million pads, and we don’t do any fancy tricks.” He lifts his hands. “Up to you.” He jabs a thumb over his shoulder. “Want help bringing it in now? I’ll do the heavy lifting, but I’ll need you to balance out the other side.”
“You think it’ll fit through the door okay?”
He tilts his head to inspect it, then shrugs. “Hopefully.”
I snort and follow him out to the truck. “Thanks again, Liam.”
He waves me off as he unfastens the bungee cords. “It’s no problem.”
“Where’s Gracie today?”
The same goofy smile he always gets when someone says her name appears. I don’t think he realizes he does it. “She’s in the city today and tomorrow. I’m driving up this weekend, then she’ll come back with me for the week.”
I remember hearing something about the two of them getting an apartment together in Philly last month, though Liam kept his apartment around here too so they could split their time. “Complicated little schedule you’ve got going on.”
He shrugs, that smile still in place. “We make it work. Furniture search seems to be going well.”
“It’s never-ending.”
Once we manage to get the couch down, he heads backward toward the house and I shuffle along after him.
“In the room with the fireplace?” he calls.
“Yes!”
It makes it through the door—thank God—and I can’t help but grin as we set it down, and I take a few steps back to get a good look. Just like I thought, it’s the perfect size for the room.
It’s just a love seat—and ideally, I’d like to get something bigger in here eventually—but this is more than enough for me and Casey. That paired with the coffee table I picked up three days ago and the TV we got last week—it almost looks like someone lives here.
Casey skips around the corner, puppy dog eyes in tow. “So…”
I sigh dramatically. “Well, I don’t know… I didn’t get my hello hug, and now I can’t think straight…”
Casey charges in and throws his arms around my middle. “ Please , Mom. Pretty please. I promise to never forget to make my bed again.”
Liam and I share an amused smirk, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d swear he was giving me a bit of the puppy dog eyes too. Sharing only one parent, they don’t have that many features in common. But in this moment, I don’t know if they’ve ever looked more related.
Admittedly, the camps have been good for Casey. They keep him busy, give him a chance to meet friends. And I’d hate to discourage the one sibling who actually makes an effort to spend time with him.
Casey must know it the moment he’s won because he starts excitedly jumping up and down before I even manage to get the words out.
“What time does it start?”