Chapter 6
Iwas a chicken. A big chicken.
When I started the week, I had every intention of asking Henry for help with my English class. But something funny happened. When his writing group met Wednesday night, I was glued to my seat.
He walked past the front desk and smiled politely before heading to the corner of the library where his group met. My heart lurched when he didn’t stop to talk, but part of me was also relieved. I was terrified of asking him for help.
Every time I tried to peel myself back from behind my desk, my legs would twist into knots.
The one time I finally got up the courage to walk over to him, I managed to knock over an entire stack of books and gain the attention of his entire writing group.
I was so embarrassed that when I ducked down to pick up the books, I stayed crouched below the circulation desk until I heard soft footsteps heading toward the door.
I was almost in the clear until I popped my head back up, and Henry stood there with an amused smirk on his perfect lips. My face instantly heated up, with shades of dark red dancing across my cheeks.
Of course, being the irritatingly sweet man he is, he asked if he could help me pick up the books that had toppled over ten minutes ago. I just shook my head, and thankfully, his phone rang, pulling him away from the disheveled mess I call my everyday life.
All I can do is replay my actions in my head while spending my Saturday afternoon pushing Milo around town.
It was a perfect summer day in Honey Grove, and I always feel much better in the fresh air. I love being outside. Something about our small town in the summer rejuvenates my senses after months spent hidden away.
I peek over the front of the stroller and smile at Milo’s tiny feet, swaying back and forth. He loves people-watching as much as I do, and the town square was the perfect place to do it. However, I feel like we’ve been on the other side lately.
As we pass by the coffee shop, I can feel stares feathering the back of my neck.
Divorce was still a taboo thing in towns like ours.
Even in this day and age. Most people stayed with their spouses until someone died or cheated.
Then again, cheating rarely broke up marriages in places like Honey Grove.
A surprising feeling of confidence swells up, and I make eye contact with some of my spectators before giving a gentle smile and a polite nod. They could judge me all they wanted, but when I was with Milo, my mama bear senses kicked in, and I felt an overwhelming need to protect him.
Like most fake people in this town, the two old ladies sitting outside one of the storefronts smile back and give me a small wave. I keep my lips curled up until I turn the corner, and I can relax my war paint.
Once Milo and I make it to the rectangular patch of greenery that sits in the middle of town, I find a park bench and decide to sit down while soaking up the early afternoon sun.
I was killing time until I had to drop Mi off at Colt’s house for the weekend. Colt usually picks him up on Friday nights, but he had to work out of town this week and couldn’t take him until today. Which was fine by me.
Milo had been helping me keep my mind off of my upstairs neighbor. Or at least, I was hoping he would. Every time I let my mind wander, it drifted back to two dark, auburn eyes and a smile that could outdo any summer day.
I take a few deep breaths and close my eyes as I let the warmth of the sun glaze my pale skin. I loved how the sun brought out the freckles scattered across my shoulders.
“Mama,” Milo fusses, trying to wiggle his body free. My little guy hates his stroller now that he can walk. The bad part is I’m only one person, and he’s fast for someone with short legs.
I sigh and decide to keep pushing him so he’ll calm down. I would have plenty of time to relax later.
When we reach the edge of the park, a familiar frame catches my eye from the other side of the church parking lot. I must be imagining it, or manifestation actually works.
I focus in on the tall form and instantly recognize Henry walking into the cemetery tucked behind the gothic-style building.
Without thinking, my legs start pushing me in his direction.
I reach the entrance of the cemetery and decide to hide behind some of the taller shrubs that tower beside the old church.
I peek over to check on Mi and he seems content playing with one of the branches that poke out from the bushes beside us.
I take the opportunity to peek around the wall of greenery and spot Henry carefully navigating through the field of headstones. I keep watching him until he finally pulls out what looks to be his phone.
My mind starts reeling when I see him taking photos of some plots he stops in front of. I begin to realize how little I actually know about him other than the light cyber stalking I’ve been doing this week. The online persona he built seemed normal enough.
Wren and I were able to easily find him on social media once we figured out what his last name was.
His feed didn’t raise eyebrows, and most of his photos consisted of random places he had visited in the past few years.
He’s traveled a lot, and I’ve barely left the county since I was in high school.
It was just another glaring item on the list of ways we were different.
I watch Henry for a few more seconds and wait for my brain to be repulsed by the fact he’s taking random pictures in a cemetery in the middle of the day. Sadly, it never comes. I’m still completely enthralled by this man.
Soon, I decide that my spying is bordering on stalking and try to sneak away quietly. When I begin to push Milo’s stroller, I notice that it’s lighter, and then I realize my son has been uncharacteristically quiet for the past few minutes.
Before I look down, my heart starts thumping against my chest, and my belly feels rock hard. My head darts side to side, and Milo’s little body is nowhere to be seen. Just when I’m about to break down and cry, a flash of blond hair catches my eyes.
Sure enough, he has broken loose from his stroller and is heading straight toward the man I’ve been spying on.
“Shit,” I mumble before running after him. I pray that no one is watching the absurdity of what’s going down right now.
“Milo!” I yell, but it doesn’t deter him. I’m starting to rethink the leash that’s been sitting in my cart ever since he learned to walk. How can something so little be so fast?
Just as I’m about to catch up to my giggling son, who thinks this is a fun game of tag, two long legs appear out of nowhere and cut him off. Milo is about to wipe out when Henry reaches down and steadies him.
“Woah there, little guy.”
“Thank God,” I breathe heavily. I bend over and put my hands on my knees while taking in way too much oxygen at one time.
Once I catch my breath, I scoop Mi’s squirming body into my arms. “Thank you for stopping him. I had no clue he could unbuckle himself and escape like that.”
To be fair, the stroller was a hand-me-down from one of Colt’s cousins, and the strap that is supposed to keep the kid locked in has seen better days.
“Happy to help.” Henry smiles. “Are you two visiting someone?”
It dawns upon me that he’s asking if we’re visiting someone in the cemetery, and I thank God that I’ve been handed a great excuse to cover up my nosiness.
“Yeah, we’re visiting Milo’s great grandma,” I lie. Colt’s grandma is buried here somewhere, but I have no clue where.
“I’m sorry for your loss. Were you two close?” Henry asks like any polite person would.
I think for a moment, but then I decide Henry isn’t the type of guy I want to lie to. “No, I have to be honest. We’re actually not visiting anyone. I just didn’t want to seem weird. We were walking by, and I saw you, so I stopped, but then this little devil took off.”
“Okay, good.” He laughs. “I saw you two behind the bushes. They’re not as thick as they look.”
Henry ends his quip with a wink, and I have to remind my heart that this man isn’t someone I should be swooning over. “Oh God. That’s embarrassing.”
“Not as embarrassing as why I’m here.”
I raise my eyebrows in interest and adjust Milo on my hip. My little devil seems to be as entranced by our neighbor as I am because he finally quit squirming when Henry started talking. “Oh really? Care to explain.”
“Sure, but let’s get this little guy back in his stroller.”
I nod and follow him back to my abandoned stroller, casually sitting behind the not-so-auspicious bushes we were hiding behind. When I sit Milo back in his stroller, he pushes his lip forward and attempts to pout until I let him loose again.
“Nice try, buddy. Not happening,” I scold, reaching into my bag and taking out one of his toys to keep him entertained for the next few minutes.
“He’s pretty quick,” Henry points out, taking a seat on a nearby park bench. I push the angry toddler over to the bench and take a seat next to him.
“Yup. He keeps me on my toes.”
Henry’s dimples come out to play, and I feel an overwhelming need to make this man smile more. He has such a contagious smile.
“I bet,” he jokes again.
The two pools of chocolate sitting behind his glasses reel me in, and I notice I don’t mind maintaining eye contact with him. I could stare into his eyes all day and not even blink. That feeling made me queasy.
“So, you were telling me why you’re embarrassed to be in a cemetery in the middle of the day.”
“Right,” he begins. “It’s for the novel I’m ghostwriting. The antagonist is a small-town priest who murders people and buries them in his church’s cemetery to hide the bodies.”
My nose crinkles at the idea of Honey Grove being the setting of such a dark story. When I think of our little town, the feeling of safety and comfort came to mind, not whatever Henry is planning to convert it into.
I quickly smooth my expression, but it’s too late. Henry leans forward with curiosity. “You don’t like that idea?”