Chapter Two
Linden
“Come on, Avery! We have to go!”
“Coming!” She flies into the living room as fast as she can in her plastic princess shoes and sequin purse. Her tulle skirt is hiked up around her waist, and her cat-ear headband is falling off.
A laugh bubbles out of me before I can stop it.
She’s a girly-girl to her core even though I practically live in my decade-old jean shorts and overalls, and barely manage to put more than mascara on every day.
She’s already started begging to get her ears pierced, though I haven’t given in to it yet, and don’t plan to until she’s at least ten.
“Are you sure you want to wear those? We have to do some walking.”
“I fine.”
“Okay, let’s go.” I usher her out the front door and lock it behind me before turning around. The gasp that leaves my chest is loud and involuntary when I see a man in the yard.
Avery’s already down the steps, and my front door is firmly shut. We’re practically trapped.
“Can I help you?” I ask hesitantly, side-stepping towards Avery.
“Yes, ma’am. I work for the internet provider in the area. Was wondering if I could trouble you for a moment of your time.”
That should be a relief, but it isn’t yet. The unmarked van on the street is still terribly startling.
“Oh, um. I’m sorry, I need to get to work.”
“This will only be a minute,” he pushes. “Is your husband home?” That makes my shoulders bristle.
“I’m sorry, it’s my first day. I can’t be late, and it’s just us. No husband.”
“Ah, can I come by another time? Maybe tomorrow?”
Movement in the corner of my eye catches my attention, and I notice the neighbor in his driveway. There is already one man too many in my proximity; I don’t need another.
“Um…” My gaze bounces back to Avery’s location as she kicks pebbles, unfazed, as a bead of sweat drips down my spine.
One of her pebbles skips across the driveway, allowing me a glimpse of the neighbor as he meanders towards the fence. He starts plucking at the loose portion of chain link as if to mend it.
My anxiety grows as my audience does.
I glance back to the internet worker. “No, tomorrow won’t work. I don’t even have a TV, to be honest. I wouldn’t want to waste your time.”
“No TV?” The worker says skeptically as if he doesn’t believe me. I’m not about to explain that our television only plays VHS tapes to a stranger.
“We just moved in.” I glance back to Avery.
Now she’s occupied by watching ants in the cracks of the porch steps, and my neighbor is still tinkering around with the fence that clearly hasn’t been kept up on for years.
My pulse is pounding in my ears.
“How about next week then? Give you time to get settled and get your TV hooked up?”
A grating screech of metal being manipulated forces all of our attention towards the neighbor. He’s bending a portion of the fence back to the post, and when he’s done, he braces his hands on the top rail with a grip that makes his forearms ripple.
It’s nearly indiscernible as he tips his head upward… A fraction of his unblinking gaze lands on the man in my yard… Holding his stare.
The worker glances at me, tips his head, and walks back to his van on the street.
Not a single word is exchanged.
“Bye, Mr. Jack!” Avery yells towards the neighbor’s back as he returns to the raised hood of his truck. He continues tinkering away as if his attention was never diverted.
“How do you know his name?”
“He told me.” She giggles like I should know that because she thinks that I see all of the imaginary friends she talks to.
But as far as I’m aware, he’s never even crossed to this side of that fence he was hovering around. And he certainly hasn’t spoken to my daughter.
She must have come up with it on her own… Right?
“Avery, let’s go.” I grab her hand and walk as fast as she’ll let me in her dress shoes, leading her across the street.
The house I head towards first belongs to my landlord’s elderly mother. The other neighbor is a long-time tenant that his mother is friends with who has refused to move into assisted living.
Part of his condition for renting to me is that I spend time with them, cooking, cleaning, and doing other caregiving tasks.
I’ve never worked with the elderly, but it meant I was allowed to bring Avery with me, and I was desperate for a job.
Just before I walk into the first house, I peek back over my shoulder to the truck in my neighbor’s driveway. I can’t see him clearly, but I swear… He’s watching me.
* * *
I spend four hours at Ms. Chaney’s cleaning her house and resetting her space after years of neglect.
Clearly, my landlord hasn’t been spending much time with his mother. She still had Christmas decorations up, and it’s May.
Ms. Harris was much the same once I got to her house in the afternoon.
Except her kitchen was a wreck. She’s too old to be preparing meals by herself, and you can tell.
There was grease splattered on the walls and floor.
Food in the fridge was months past the expiration date, and some of it was growing its own ecosystem.
I twist left and right, stretching my back the best I can after the longest day ever. It wasn’t horrible, but it was a lot more work than I was expecting.
They were both kind to Avery and even dug out toys from when their grandchildren were still little so she could play while I worked, but as backbreaking as the day was, my empathetic heart has taken a bigger hit.
These women are practically all alone, living day by day in a house where they hardly get visitors.
They were tickled by every little thing Avery did, as if that is the only bit of joy they’ve had in a long time. I get it. She has that effect on me, too. I don’t think I could survive without her, but it breaks my heart that her presence probably made their entire month. If not their whole year.
“Avery, dinner is ready.”
“Yay! Dinosaurs!”
“How about we try the broccoli tonight?”
She shakes her head no. “Dino nuggets.”
“Yep, you have nuggets, but I also put some broccoli on your plate and some cheesy rice. Try some. It’ll be good.”
Her face pinches, and she shakes her head again.
She only has a few safe foods. Nuggets, pancakes, plain spaghetti, and apple sauce are up there as her favorites.
After months of fighting through what I thought was pickiness, I finally broke and took her to her doctor when I noticed she was losing weight.
Her pediatrician thinks that her food aversion might have something to do with misplaced stress and anxiety. She refuses most foods no matter how many times I offer them, and only picks at the foods that she does like. Kids can be headstrong, but this is something else entirely.
Every meal feels like I’m failing my daughter, but it’s because of our living situation with her father that’s gotten us here.
No matter how hard I tried to stop the fighting, he wouldn’t keep it behind closed doors. He’d start drinking, and the yelling would start. I begged him to leave so many nights that I finally gave up and just locked Avery in her room.
She was only 6 months old when I started hiding money. After a year, I felt like I was close enough to start over, but my ex had caught on. He knew I wanted to leave him.
And that meant more fighting, threats, and eventually outside involvement.
Once his family found out I was trying to leave with Avery, they went full nuclear. They weren’t going to let me take her without a fight. It took another year to come to an agreement.
I could leave with Avery, but I had to stay within 10 miles of Noddingbell. And the only other town within 10 miles is exactly where I ended up.
In a house that is falling apart, and all I could afford.
With an arrangement that I will receive child support as long as I let my ex’s parents stay involved in her life.
They knew her dad was unhinged when he wasn’t sober, and dealing with demons that I will never fully know. All the Scott family wanted was access to my daughter.
And unfortunately for them, that requires me to be involved. Where she goes, I go. That was my final stipulation.
The past few months we stayed in our old home while Turner was in a rehab of sorts. That’s all the information they would give me.
It gave me just enough time to get out and to move here.
His program will be over any day now, and I know his parents will call eventually seeking time with Avery. Every time I inhale, I’m reminded that I’m holding my breath.
“Mommy!” Avery squeals, and I blink into focus as she points excitedly at the speaker. Our favorite song is on.
I raise the volume and grab a spatula from next to the stove.
“Underneath the starlight, starlight. There’s a magical feeling so right. It will steal your heart tonight…” I whip around, giving her the performance that makes her giggle endlessly.
“You can try to resist, try to hide from my kiss.” I leap towards her, stealing a kiss to her cheek. “…But you know, but you know that you… Can’t fight the moonlight.”
I continue singing at the top of my lungs, dancing to the Coyote Ugly anthem that I grew up on while Avery giggles and dances in her chair. She’s never seen the movie; all she knows is that when it comes on, we’re having a dance party.
I jump on my kitchen chair to pretend I’m on stage and Avery claps for me. “Deep in the dark, you’ll surrender your heart, but you know, but you know that you… Can’t fight the moonlight…”
I don’t know what draws my attention to the window as I sway my hips back and forth during my one-woman show, but directly out my side kitchen window is a single light illuminating from my neighbor’s garage.
And a silhouette next to his truck.
“You can’t fight it. It’s gonna get to your heart…” My voice trails off as I stare at the shoulder-width of someone who could only be facing this direction.
I can’t take my eyes off his shadowed form, and I’m still catching my breath when the light goes out, leaving his property in complete darkness.
Was he watching me?
Did I imagine that?
“Mommy?”
“Bath time, Avery.”