15. Lizzie
Chapter Fifteen
Lizzie
I’ve sneezed a minimum of seventeen times today. I lost count after that. The layer of dust that coats every possible surface in this place is unreal. It’s so thick it doesn’t simply wipe away; you almost have to scrape it off. Gross.
I’ve made huge progress, though, and am ready to attack the years of grime in the front: the main living space and the kitchen. Then we can move in, and I can start cleaning the bakery downstairs.
Unlike this apartment, the bakery has been in regular use over the last decade. The decor is dated, and the plans I have for the renovation add a layer of complexity. But at least it shouldn’t require nearly as much elbow grease as this apartment.
This place is the perfect place to make my dream come true. I’m about to take the culinary world by storm. Okay, the world might be a bit ambitious, but maybe I can do it in this town.
I need a break before I tackle the kitchen, and I think I’ve earned a treat today. I’ve drunk a lot of water today, so I think an ice-cold diet soda sounds perfect.
Anyone who doesn’t think cleaning requires some physical effort is crazy.
“Hello?”
I recognize Georgie’s voice and the tapping of feet on the steps leading up to my new home.
“Come on in. The door is open,” I call out.
With my soda in hand, I glance around the living room and find a spot that seems a little less dusty than the others. I walk over to it, plop myself down on the floor, and then rest my back against the mustard yellow wall.
Georgie walks into the apartment, and I watch as her eyes dart around the room, assessing my new living space. I chuckle. It’s obvious she’s trying to force a smile and simultaneously disguise a grimace. The twisting of her pretty features is comical.
“You know your face always rats you out, right? I’m not sure why you even try to disguise it.”
“What? Nuh uh. It’s... It’s nice.” Her voice squeaks.
“It’s a good thing you’re an author and not an actress because your acting skills are shit.”
A warm laugh erupts from her. She walks over to the fridge and grabs a can of the lemonade I bought for her, then ambles over and plants herself across from me, sitting cross-legged.
“I thought you were cleaning today. Doesn’t look like you did much.” She’s fighting a smirk. I halfheartedly kick my foot at her, but it misses. “Seriously, though, it’s a nice place and will be a comfy home for you and Simon... once it’s clean.”
“Yeah, it will be. I’ll get as much done as I can today so the movers can bring our stuff into a clean home. I want Simon’s room—the entire place, really—filled with familiar things.”
I pick up my soda and take a long, refreshing pull, needing a moment to process my situation.
“It needs to feel like home to Simon. He’ll be back from his grandma’s house in the next few days.”
“Hey,” Georgie says, “It’s going to be fine. You’re not alone here. You’re in a place that can finally be home, where people watch out for each other. Both of you will love Aron Falls, and Simon will adjust just fine. Don’t worry.”
Her voice is smooth, soft, and meant to be reassuring, I’m sure.
“I really hope you’re right. The idea of putting down roots and of having a place to call home is something Simon and I both need.”
But she doesn’t know Landon. I’ve told her stories, but that’s all she has to go on.
Because Landon Carter is hell-bent on punishing me for not wanting him. He was never my choice, and he knew it. No amount of family influence or money could buy me, and he hated that. I may have walked away from the man I loved all those years ago because of him, but I would never be his.
I stare at the ceiling.
“He doesn’t stay away, Georgie,” I say quietly. She knows who I’m talking about without me having to say his name.
“Hey, Heath will be around more soon. I promise no one will bug you when that giant is around. Plus, he has four brothers in town. You’ll get to know them, and I’m sure they’ll all become just as protective of you and Simon as they are of the rest of us.”
I smile at Georgie. She’s so outgoing and easy to get along with that it comes naturally to her to make friends. I usually keep to myself. Well, unless Georgie drags me out of my cave and makes me socialize.
“Maybe.”
Georgie’s eyes narrow, and a small laugh escapes her.
“There’s no maybe, Lizzie. You’re not going to successfully hold these people at a distance. Aron Falls is your home now, and the citizens are going to be your people.”
I’m surprised by a hopeful stirring in my heart. It’s been a long time since I allowed myself to believe Simon and I could be a part of a community, a family. That we could have a place of our own for more than a year.
“I guess we’ll see what happens. My main concern is Simon, making him feel safe, and giving him so much love that he never doubts how important he is to me.”
“How is he doing with everything?”
I shrug and cast my gaze downward at the thin-plank oak flooring that I’m hoping to bring back to life.
“I think he’s okay most of the time. However, he’s grown even quieter. I’m hoping it’s temporary—that when he adjusts to Aron Falls, he’ll open up more.”
“Yeah, well, I think any six-year-old would need time. Getting off the school bus, excited to see his mom, and walking in on a large man putting his hands on her would shake any kid. He’ll need time to feel secure again.”
It’s the first and only time Landon laid hands on me. Usually, he just uses his words to fight. The last time was different. It was when I told him I was leaving Elladine. He was furious and grabbed me by my upper arms and squeezed so hard he left bruises.
“Can we talk about something else?”
I rise, and a squeal of discomfort escapes my lips. Damn, all that up-and-down on the stepladder while washing the walls really did a number on my body and woke up muscles that I hadn’t used in a long time.
Georgie stands as well.
“So, are you gonna be painting this room too? Not that I don’t love mustard yellow. But...”
“Yeah. It’s in the plans, but I can’t get it done this weekend. We’ll have to do it once we get all moved in. Plus, Simon's room is my priority. It’s painted an almost fluorescent purple color, and I’m sure he’s not going to love that.”
Georgie doesn’t say anything to me but turns and disappears down the hall, where the bedrooms and bathroom are. She comes back a minute or so later, and she has that look on her face. The one she gets when she’s coming up with some kind of scheme. I’m almost afraid to ask.
“What’s going on in that brain of yours? Did you get another idea for your book?”
“No, no. Not that. I was thinking that you should let me help you, and I think I could probably get a few other helpers so that we could get this painted for you today.”
“No, really. I don’t want to impose on anybody and—”
“Lizzie. Seriously, at some point, you have to let somebody help. Think of all the stuff you do for me.”
“What are you talking about?”
I feel myself narrowing my eyes at her, and I force my facial features back to normal. I don’t want to end up with massive wrinkles before my time.
“Okay. Yeah, you’re my proofreader, and you’ve been doing some light editing, but think of all those bonus scenes I send to you. You proofread them for me and refuse to take any money. Or how about when I throw something at you, last minute, and you have never not fit me into your schedule?”
“Well, that’s just friendship.” I lift a shoulder toward my ear and let it drop again.
“Exactly. And my helping you get this painted is also friendship. Do you have colors yet?”
“Yeah, I think so.” I glance over at the small table I have set up in the room where the swatches are. “I need to pick between a few colors for this room, though I’m leaning toward an oatmeal.”
“Okay, how about this? I’ll get some paint, painting supplies, and get a crew together, and we’ll be back in a couple of hours to get the first coat on these rooms. That’ll give you time to finish cleaning.”
She looks down at her phone and starts tapping on it.
God, it would be amazing to get this painted before Simon sees it. But I can’t impose on strangers.
“That’s too much. I’m not going to ruin everybody's Friday evening so they can help me paint. They don’t even know me.”
She glances up from her phone.
“Already done. It’s happening, so don’t try to dissuade me. Show me which colors you like.”
I stare at my friend for a few seconds. She’s as stubborn as a mule. I debate whether it’s worth arguing with her, but I know I won’t win. When Georgie sets her mind on something, it’s extremely difficult to change it.
Then, without warning, she walks over to the door where she dropped her purse, picks it up, and turns back to me.
“I’m gonna go get the paint now and—”
“Now? No. Absolutely not.”
“It’s cute that you think you can stop me.”
“Here, let me give you my card or whatever cash I have.”
She shoos me away. “Consider it my housewarming gift.”
“Georgie, paint is expensive.”
I pull my phone out to open my Cash App and pay her.
“I’m sorry, but have you not seen the sales of our most recent book? I can afford it.”
“Our book?” I chuckle. “You’re the one who wrote it.”
“Yeah, but you’re the one who read it and basically gave me a developmental edit, then proofread it for me. So, you did a lot for it. I mean, technically I’m the author, but you contributed a lot to its success.”
I smile at her, grateful for the friendship that developed when I began proofreading for her several years ago.
“All right, I’m on my way to the store. I’ll see you in a while.”
“Georgie, I don’t think this is a good ide—”
“Lalalalalala, I can’t hear you,” she says as she sprints away and hurries down the steps to the door that leads to the driveway.
And just like that, I’m alone again.
Alone with regrets from my past, anxiety in the present, and hope for the future.