BREE
If there is anyone in this small town I want to meet, it’s this woman. She’s sporting a flannel nightgown with no shame despite it only being…oh. I look at the sunny yellow clock in her aged teal kitchen and see that it’s almost eight already.
She hurries to another door, reaching out to hit the button for the garage door. The house rattles while the garage screeches open. “I’ll need to look at that,” she says to herself, letting the door swing closed.
“This place is adorable.” I scan her chipped teal cabinets and white ceramic tiled counters.
Professional-looking portraits of rocky beaches hang on the wall above the small kitchen table, set before large glass sliding windows with a view of a grassy field that probably leads to the ocean.
She has a tall clear cylinder in the center of her island holding all manner of shells, sand dollars, and sea glass.
“I put this house together over time,” she says easily, placing a loaf of steaming banana bread on the butcher board and cutting a slice. “Probably needs a fresh coat of paint.”
“I like the teal.”
“How can you even see it? You ought to take those sunglasses off. Let me get a proper look at you.”
The door to the garage swings shut and Benny enters the kitchen with a large banana box, stuffed with produce and sandwich bread and tortillas. “She has a concussion.”
I was already reaching for my sunglasses, but my hand stills. He was serious, then, about me keeping up the facade around his grandma. She seems harmless to me, but he looks concerned, so I drop my hand.
Mrs. Rhodes looks between us. “What’s going on here?”
“I don’t know what you mean.” Benny sets the box down and starts putting away groceries. It’s oddly attractive to see how familiar he is with his grandma’s kitchen. The man has clearly spent a lot of time here, and it’s warm and homey and inviting.
I can’t remember the last time I watched a man put a loaf of sandwich bread into a bread box and thought mmm, come to mama, but here we are.
“An old friend comes by and spends every day with you, and you’re acting like I’m strange for questioning why you don’t want me to know who she is.” Mrs. Rhodes waves her knife between us. “I heard you outside, Benny. The window was open. You think I’ll see through her disguise.”
His jaw hardens.
“Plus,” she adds, slicing another piece of banana bread and putting it on a second plate, “she calls you Benny. No one but your fans and I call you Benny.”
Yikes. Didn’t think that one through, did I?
Mrs. Rhodes puts the plate in front of the stool next to mine, then crosses her arms over her ample chest. She ticks up a dark penciled-in eyebrow. “Off with the sunglasses, young lady. I deserve to know who’s eating my banana bread.”
Ouch. She shoves the bread at me, then guilts me for it? This is some next-level grandma stuff.
“You’re making this a bigger thing than it is,” he says easily. It’s clear to me he’s trying to play this off like it’s nothing, which only heightens my worry. But if that’s how he wants to play things, I’ll go along with him.
“My name’s Anne,” I tell her, pinching off a piece of banana bread and popping it in my mouth. Divine. “The sunglasses help because of my headaches.”
“Okay.” She doesn’t sound convinced. Her silver bob shakes slightly with her head. “Shall I lower the lights?”
Mrs. Rhodes doesn’t wait for a confirmation. She flips a switch and half the lights in the kitchen go out, leaving us in dim overhead bar lighting.
“Thank you.” I take another bite of bread, so I don’t have to say anything else.
Benny shakes his head and turns back to finish putting the fruit away.
This is it. My heart thuds because it’s clear he’s doing his best to help me keep my secret.
Am I self-sabotaging? I’d like to think I’m not, because I’ve been out in the world for two days now and not one person has identified me. What’s one more test?
I take my sunglasses off and squint against the bright kitchen light while pushing some of the blonde wig out of my face and hooking it behind my ear.
When I glance up, Mrs. Rhodes has gone white.
“Benny!” I say urgently, grabbing his attention.
He glances at me before looking at her, then springs to action, catching his grandmother as she crumples to the floor.
Benny carries his grandma into the living room and lays her on the couch while I locate the remote and turn off the TV. She’s already rousing, but the fainting thing puts me on edge.
“Did she leave?” she asks him, her voice groggy. “Tell me she didn’t run away.”
“I’m still here.” I cross the room and stand over Benny’s shoulder. “Can I get you some water? A slice of banana bread?”
“Goodness,” Mrs. Rhodes breathes. “A slice of bread from Miss Bree Belacourt.”
So Benny wasn’t kidding. The woman knows who I am. I have freckles, wrong foundation, thick eyeliner, and a blonde wig, and she can still identify me. She’s a powerhouse.
I search for a way to lighten the mood. “Technically, it’s your bread, Mrs. Rhodes.”
She giggles, which makes me giggle. Benny cracks a smile.
“Call me Nancy, at least,” she says.
“Oh, that’s my mom’s name,” I tell her.
“Am I dreaming?”
“Nope, you’re not.” Benny sounds like a patient dad dealing with a toddler. “Bree is visiting for a few weeks—”
“Weeks!” Mrs. Rhodes shrieks.
“—and she doesn’t want anyone to know she’s here.” The edge of warning in his tone is clear. “You can’t tell anyone.”
“Very well.”
“Not a soul, Grandma. Including Rose.”
She hesitates. “Fine. I promise.” Nancy shifts her gaze to me. “You’re in hiding.”
“I am.” A slimy feeling makes its way into my stomach. Part of me is glad I’m meeting her now, because after my diss track lands tomorrow, she’s not going to respect me anymore. This meeting would’ve gone so differently. “Can I trust you?”
“Yes,” she says on a breath. “Don’t worry. The jig isn’t up.”
Okay, that’s a thing people say. “My family doesn’t know where I am. The minute my location is leaked, it’ll become dangerous for me to be here and I’ll have to leave.”
Nancy sits up, swinging her legs to the floor, a serious expression falling over her face. “Is someone trying to hurt you?”
“No, nothing like that.” I shake my head vehemently. “I didn’t bring any bodyguards, so I’m not…I’m in a vulnerable position.”
She takes this in. “You promise you aren’t running from a dangerous situation?”
I swallow. “Far from it. I did something…stupid. It’s going to bite me in the—uh, in the butt soon.”
She gives a nod, like she’s thinking while following along. “But you went to the BBQ today. To Costco. To heaven knows where else.”
“My disguise actually works pretty well.” I look at Benny to corroborate my claim. “It helps that people aren’t expecting to see Bree Belacourt, though, so if I look familiar, they probably brush it off. My face is half covered and surrounded in the wrong hair color to trigger recognition, anyway.”
“We told everyone at the BBQ she has a concussion and needs to keep the shades on,” Benny explains.
Nancy looks between us, her hands gripping the edge of her floral sofa. It’s unclear what she’s thinking, only that she’s trying to make a decision. “So long as no one knows you’re here, you’ll stay?”
“She’s Colby’s short-term tenant,” Benny explains. “She has the place for a month.”
There’s a gleam in Nancy’s eyes that makes me slightly nervous and a little wary.
“I’ll grab that water.” I leave the room, opening cupboards until I find the right one and pull down a glass to fill from the tap.
If I blew up my escape plan right before all the crap in my life hits the fan, I’m going to die. I can’t run again. Where would I go?
Here, I found an unexpected ally. Benny’s proven extremely helpful getting me out of the house and driving me to the store. Little things…but he’s made it possible for me to settle in here, to get comfortable. Too comfortable?
I drain the glass of water, then look at the empty cup and realize what I’ve done. Instead of reaching for a new one for Nancy, though, I set mine on the counter and drop my head in my hands.
I didn’t intend to come here and find Benny and spend all this time with him.
He’s supposed to be living in Montana. This is supposed to be the smallest town in California, one that would be really easy to escape to at the heart of tourist season when random people are walking the beaches and one extra random person would go unnoticed.
I’m supposed to be living in solitude, considering my brash actions and how I’m going to survive the fallout.
Now that I’m here and have seen him, I’m not prepared to sacrifice him so soon. I feel panicky and jittery, which isn’t crazy given my high-stress situation, but I know it has nothing to do with that.
It has everything to do with Benny.
Now that everyone in the house knows who I am, I don’t have to hide anymore.
I pull wig clips from my hair and slip them in my pocket.
The wig comes off easily once they’re out.
I peel off the wig cap, shaking back my long, dark hair that is probably kinked and messy, and feeling sweet relief as I run my nails over my scalp.
Benny comes into the kitchen. I can sense the motion, but I don’t move. “She promised not to say anything.”
At this, I turn around. Benny leans against the open doorway, blocking the view to the living room, where his grandma is still waiting for her water after fainting because she recognized me.
His blue eyes are fastened on me, deeply concerned.
There’s also something in them I haven’t seen before now, but I can’t tell what it is.
I want to guess longing, but this isn’t Pride and Prejudice.
Does Benny want me to stay as much as I want to? I’ve been pushing myself on him since the moment I got here, ignoring his reluctance and forging ahead.
“I was there when she promised.”
He scoffs lightly. “I got a real vow out of her.”
“Out of that superfan in there?” I smile to soften the words. “Do you believe she’s telling the truth?”
He seems to give this consideration, which I appreciate. “I do.”
That’s enough for me. Maybe this is blind trust, but that’s steered me wrong before, like when I let my sister Olive apply her new self-tanner to my skin and I had to show up to a Marc Jacobs photoshoot all streaky and orange like a chocolate-covered creamsicle that had been left in the sun.
Yes, I looked as gross as that sounds.
I make Olive try new self-tanners first now.
But what choice do I have? There’s no time to see if I should put my faith in her. She knows already.
“Okay, then I’ll trust you both.” I pull out a clean glass and fill it from the tap for Nancy.
“But tonight, I should get you home,” Benny says. “It’s been a long day. If you’re not careful, she’s going to rope you into staying for Jeopardy, which will turn into karaoke.”
It’s a good thing I’m not drinking anything, because I would have done a spit take. “How?”
“She’ll want to hear you sing. Call it a gut instinct.”
“After tomorrow, she won’t,” I mutter, passing him to go into the living room.
“What was that?” Benny asks.
Maybe it’s that self-sabotaging streak I have that makes me ruin good things, but as much as I don’t want Benny to know what I’ve done, I’m eager to rip the Band Aid off so he’ll be aware of my idiocy, and it’ll be over.
The anticipation of knowing he’s about to lose respect for me is worse than the event itself.
Gosh, at least I hope that’s the case.
“Here’s your water, Nancy.” I hand over the glass.
“Thank you, honey.” She peers at me in faint wonder, taking in my natural hair.
I miss the sassy lady who talked to me in the kitchen before. “Should we make you something to eat before we leave?”
“I’ve had dinner, and my heart has calmed down. As long as you don’t pull that dreamboat brother of yours out of the garage next, I don’t think I’m in any danger of fainting again.”
“My married brother?” I ask, fighting amusement. “The one who just became a dad?”
Nancy sips her water, but she doesn’t look away. The woman hardly even blinks. “Yep, that one.”
A laugh spills from my mouth. “I hope to see you again soon.”
“Tomorrow? Should we have lunch? I make a mean chicken salad.”
Benny groans. “Grandma—”
“What? I can invite a friend to lunch, Benny.”
I look between them. Did he tell her to leave me alone? Despite my hiding, I don’t enjoy being alone. I prefer being with others. Which is why I’ve spent so much time not by myself since coming here, despite how determined I was to remain sequestered and isolated.
Being with Benny is more fun.
By tomorrow at lunchtime, I have a feeling neither of them will want to have lunch with me.
“Maybe another time,” I say lightly. “I have some things to catch up on.”
Benny shoots me a faintly curious glance. He’s probably wondering what I could possibly have to do while I’m hiding from all my responsibilities and utterly ignoring my phone.
I don’t tell him. He’ll find out soon enough.