Chapter Six
Lavender
Three hours to Columbus and back round trip.
Three wasted hours to discover we had nowhere to go once Brynn was released.
The memory replayed itself, an endless loop of humiliation.
Standing in the apartment complex parking lot, confused by the new lock on our door.
A dozen faded notices hanging in tatters on the door.
Knocking on the building manager’s office, the pitying look on his face as he handed me fresh copies of the paperwork.
“We sent all the legal notices, mailed and posted on the door, and I tried calling you multiple times, Ms. Calloway.” His voice had been professionally sympathetic.
“I told the boss your kid was real sick. He gave you an extra month, but the owners are ridin’ him to move someone else in.
” He patted my shoulder awkwardly. “I’m sorry, little lady.
I can’t do much, but I can let you and your girl stay with me until you find a new place if you need.
Lord knows you helped me enough when my Sara passed. ”
I’d nearly broken down then. All I’d done for him was make sure he had supper each night. The only thing the man could safely cook was coffee. If it was instant. And the tap water was hot. He’d once nearly set his own apartment on fire when he tried to recycle unpopped microwave popcorn kernels.
He said he’d gotten the storage company to “waive” the first month’s fee for holding my stuff.
I figured he’d paid the fee himself. He’d asked after Brynn and wished her well.
I’d said my goodbyes because I knew I’d never see that place again.
Even if Brynn made a full recovery, if we were moving, we’d move closer to Cincinnati.
Maybe.
Panic threatened to pull me under as my mind skittered over the mental math I’d been avoiding the past hour and a half.
Three months’ rent at nine hundred dollars.
Plus late fees. Assuming I wanted to keep the apartment, which was unlikely even if they hadn’t already signed a rental agreement with someone else.
Hospital cafeteria meals. Gas for the three-hour round trips between Columbus and Cincinnati.
The meager paychecks from my remote work stretching thinner and thinner as the work I could reasonably commit to and complete in a timely manner dwindled.
My knuckles turned white on the steering wheel as the reality crashed down. We were homeless. The word echoed in my skull, bouncing off the walls of my denial until there was nowhere left for it to hide.
I pressed my forehead against the cool plastic of the wheel, trying to breathe through the panic clawing up my throat.
How could I tell Brynn? What would Knight think?
The shame burned worse than the fear. I’d failed.
At the one job I had. Keeping a roof over our heads should be the bare minimum I did for my daughter.
Instead, I’d gotten so self-absorbed I’d let important things go. Things I couldn’t afford to let go.
A gentle tap on my window startled me so badly I jerked upright, banging my elbow on the door. Ada stood outside, concern etched across her pretty face. I stared at her for a moment, uncomprehending, before my brain caught up. I fumbled for the window button.
“Lavender? You OK?” Her voice was gentle, the afternoon sun catching in her chestnut hair, so similar to Knight’s natural color before prison had changed him inside and out. “You’ve been sitting out here for almost twenty minutes.”
The window hummed down halfway, and the dam broke. One second I was holding it together, the next I was sobbing so hard I couldn’t breathe, ugly, wrenching sounds tearing from my throat. I pressed my hands to my face, trying to physically hold back the flood.
“Oh, honey.” The passenger door opened, and Ada slid in beside me, closing the door against the outside world. “What happened?”
I couldn’t speak, could only shake my head as the sobs continued. Ada didn’t push, just placed a steady hand on my shoulder, her touch an anchor in the storm. When the worst of it passed, leaving me hiccupping and raw, she reached across me and turned off the ignition.
“We’ve been evicted,” I managed finally, the words scraping my throat. “Everything’s in storage. I didn’t even see the damn notices. I was so focused on Brynn, I just --” My voice broke again.
“I’m so sorry.” Ada’s voice held no judgment, just quiet understanding. “When did you find out?”
“Just now. Drove all the way back to Columbus to grab some things from the apartment. Surprise.” I attempted a laugh that came out more like a cough.
Ada nodded, her eyes taking on a determined glint I recognized from her brother. “OK. First things first. The club will take care of everything. Storage fees, moving your stuff, finding you a place to stay. Right now, Brynn needs you focused.”
“I can’t let you --”
“Yes, you can.” Her voice was firm but kind. “This is what family does, Lavender. And like it or not, you and Brynn are family now. You always have been.”
Family. The word hit me like a physical blow. For eleven years, it had just been Brynn and me against the world. Now suddenly there were people calling us family, offering help without hesitation.
“Knight doesn’t know yet,” I whispered, panic rising again. “He’s gonna think I’m an idiot. I should have been more careful, should have --”
“Stop.” Ada squeezed my shoulder gently. “Knight will think exactly what I think -- that you’re a mother who has been spending every waking moment caring for her critically ill child. Everything else is secondary.”
She reached into the glove compartment, finding a pack of tissues. She pulled several out and handed them to me.
“Here. Let’s get you cleaned up before we go back in.”
I dabbed at my face, wincing at the dampness. “I must look like hell.”
“You look like someone who’s been through hell,” she corrected gently. “There’s a difference.”
“I don’t know what to do next,” I admitted, the humiliating confession burning like acid.
Ada’s smile was small but genuine. “That’s why you have us now. You don’t have to figure everything out alone anymore. Ready to go inside?” she asked, her voice soft.
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. As we stepped out of the car into the crisp air, Ada linked her arm through mine, her grip firm and supportive. “One step at a time,” she murmured. “That’s all any of us can do.”
For the first time in hours, I felt like I could breathe again. One step at a time. I could manage that.
The hospital hallway stretched before us.
Ada walked beside me, her presence steady and grounding.
I’d pulled myself together on the outside, but inside I still felt hollowed out, scraped raw.
Knight stood outside Brynn’s room, his large form leaning against the wall, phone in hand.
When he spotted us, something in his expression shifted, his eyes narrowing slightly as they moved from Ada’s face to mine.
He knew. Of course, he knew. He had always been attuned to me.
He might not know the “what,” but he knew there was something wrong.
“She’s taking a nap,” Knight said quietly as we approached.
I nodded, trying to appear normal, like I hadn’t just had a breakdown in the parking lot, like our entire life wasn’t in storage because I’d been too overwhelmed to open the Goddamned mail.
“Knight, can I talk to you for a minute?” Ada asked, her voice casual, but I knew Knight would put two and two together.
Knight’s gaze lingered on my face before he nodded. “Sure.” He squeezed my shoulder lightly as he moved past me, following Ada a few yards down the hallway where they began speaking in low voices.
I slipped into Brynn’s room, the familiar beeping of monitors greeting me like an unwelcome friend.
The blinds were half-closed against the afternoon sun, casting stripes of light across the tile floor.
Brynn lay curled on her side, blue hair splayed across the white pillow, her breathing deep and even.
Sleep had softened her features. Like this, she wasn’t the snarky pre-teen too smart for her own good.
She was my baby. I moved to her side, adjusting the thin hospital blanket over her shoulders.
The door opened quietly behind me, and I turned to see Knight entering, his movements deliberately soft despite his imposing size. He gestured toward the far corner of the room, away from Brynn’s bed. I followed, my stomach knotting with the conversation to come.
“Ada told me about the apartment,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. The dark tattoo of a lavender flower on his neck shifted as he swallowed. “Why didn’t you tell me things were that tight when I got here?” His reply was a gentle reprimand, but he sounded more pained than angry.
I crossed my arms over my chest, suddenly cold.
I wasn’t sure I’d ever been so embarrassed in my life.
I should’ve told him it wasn’t any of his Goddamned business, but I was asking for his help in a very big way.
If he wanted to know, the least I could do was tell him.
“I didn’t realize things were that bad. I mean, I thought I was keeping up with the essentials.
I meant to pay the rent, just… I guess time got away from me.
” I felt as stupid as I sounded but I really had no other defense.
“I’ve been so focused on Brynn, on being here.
The mail piled up. Voicemails went unanswered.
I thought I had more time before the main bills got critical. ”
Knight’s gaze never left my face. He didn’t seem to be angry, exactly. Instead, he seemed to be gathering facts. “What about the medical bills? Insurance?”