Our apartment door was open, and I was listening. I figured the first night in a strange place might cause some problems. Maybe one of the boys would have a bad dream, and Michelle would need help.
The truth was that I couldn’t sleep. That touch had started a fire that wasn’t dying down. I wanted to see her, smell her, just be close to her. Instead, I was two stories away, sitting on my brother’s crappy couch.
I sighed and let my head fall back. Jim’s snores drifted from his room, making me grin. He could sleep through anything. Mom said it was because he had a carefree soul. Uncle Grey said it was because Jim knew his path. Whichever it was, I envied him at times.
A slight noise caught my attention. I moved from the couch to the door, tilting my head to listen. Someone was moving around upstairs. I silently sprinted up the steps. Just on the other side of the door, I heard the rapid beat of a heart.
I breathed deeply, smelling Michelle’s terror.
There were no other sounds. No one else was awake.
I tapped on the door.
“Michelle?” I said softly.
The door opened a second later. She was pale, shaking, and still dressed in her jeans and shirt. Her hair was a little mussed so I knew she’d been sleeping before something woke her.
“I didn’t mean to scare you. I heard someone moving around up here and wanted to make sure everything was okay.”
She swallowed, and I could see her try to pull herself together.
“The walls are that thin?”
I shrugged. “I have good hearing and couldn’t sleep either.”
She looked away and didn’t say anything more. I wanted to pull her into my arms and hold her close. I wanted to breathe in her scent and tell her everything would be all right. Somehow, I doubted she’d accept my touch or my words. So, I tried offering what she might agree to.
“Do you want to come down for pancakes tomorrow morning?” I asked.
She nodded, making me happy.
“Okay, then. I’ll see you in the morning.” Reluctantly, I turned and went back down the stairs.
Chapter 4
“Rough night?” Winifred asked from the doorway.
I lifted my head from the couch and nodded. After checking on Michelle, I’d only managed a few hours of sleep.
“I heard the children moving around up there and started breakfast.” As soon as she said the words, the smoky bacon aroma hit me.
“Breakfast?” Jim said, coming from his room.
“Not until our guests are ready,” she said, giving him the look.
“I’ll help wake up Michelle,” Jim said, heading for the bathroom.
A minute later, he started singing at the top of his lungs. I winced and started to leave the apartment.
“It would be better if our guests didn’t see you until you looked a bit more...yourself,” she said.
I nodded and went to my room to change. Jim either ran out of songs or heard me moving around because he stopped his awful wailing. So, I sat on my bed and listened to Michelle and her brothers make their way down the steps. The sound of her voice as she called out a tentative hello wrapped around me.
“Good morning, sleepyheads,” Winnifred called. “Come in and eat.”
I listened to the light footfalls as Michelle and the boys entered Winifred’s kitchen.
“As soon as they smelled the food, they started snitching,” Winifred said. “I told them they might as well eat. I saved some for you.”
I wanted to eat with them, Winifred, I sent to her.
She looks exhausted and skittish. Let them have a quiet breakfast.
The shower turned off and Jim left the bathroom with a towel around his waist.
“Are they ready yet?”
“They’re already in there eating. We aren’t invited.”
“What?”
I shrugged, and a determined glint lit Jim’s gaze as he strode into his room. A second later he was back, fully dressed. He tilted his head, indicating I should follow him. He led the way to Winifred’s. As soon as she saw Jim, she shook her head. Michelle and her brothers were sitting at the table eating. They were all wearing yesterday’s clothes. While Jim sat beside the boys, my mind raced to the day ahead of us. Waiting on furniture made sense, but they needed some basic supplies right away.
“Ready to head into town and do some shopping?” I asked.
Michelle glanced at me and took a moment to swallow her food.
“Not today,” she said.
“If you’re worried about money, I—”
“On Saturdays, I usually comb through the paper,” Winifred said, interrupting me. Be more subtle, she sent