porch, mostly hidden by trees. Her tone made it more of an order than a request.
I didn’t want to speak to Mrs. Delphi. I didn’t want to speak to anyone. It had been almost two weeks since I’d been cut off from Aaron—in one swift and lethal blow. I’d done nothing since then except try to focus on my classes, sleep, drown myself in horror flicks, alternate between tears and anger, and walk Mr. Barks when I must.
I was a hollowed-out, snot-nosed mess. If misery were tangible, I was pretty sure mine would be visible from space.
“I’m kind of in a hurry,” I called out.
“You most certainly are not! Come here.”
With a discrete eyeroll, I tugged on Mr. Barks’s leash and headed for Mrs. Delphi’s porch.
She had a cup of tea waiting for me. I was too depressed to even wonder about it. Maybe she’d been waiting on me to walk by. Whatever. Mr. Barks settled on the porch—as far away from Mrs. Delphi as he could get on his leash, and I sat down in the rocker next to hers and sipped my tea.
I didn’t say anything. If she wanted to talk, she could start the damned conversation.
“You’re not working at Malfleur these days. Are you, Billy?” Squeak, squeeeeak went her chair.
I shook my head, my jaw clenched. I stared straight ahead through the dancing leaves on her trees, leaves that were a sickly yellow color. They were slowly dying now that the summer was over. Just like me.
Nope. No, ma’am, I am no longer working at Malfleur. And thanks for asking! Give the knife in my gut a nice, firm twist, why don’t you?
“Well that’s a shame. Tell me what happened,” she said gruffly.
“No thanks.”
She rocked. And waited. The silence stretched out. I sipped my tea. The mint was cooling on my throat, which was raw and swollen from too many tears.
“He cut me off! Just like that. I was served a damn injunction to stay away. Like he couldn’t have just asked me.”
She made a thoughtful sound. “Aaron cut you off? Or someone who works for him?”
“Same thing.”
“Oh no, Billy. It’s not the same thing at all.” She tsked, like I was being silly.
I shrugged. “He had to have approved it. He hasn’t come to see me, has he? He hasn’t called. He blocked my number!”
Mrs. Delphi rocked. I glanced at her. Her expression was utterly placid like she hadn’t a care in the world. Good to know she was all worked up for my sake.
“Aaron never gave you any hint that he wanted to break up with you? You weren’t having problems”
“No! It was great. I . . .” I loved him. My eyes stung. “Anyway. It was his business manager who cut me off. I guess that’s what rich people do. Have someone else do the dirty work for them. Nice, huh?”
God, I sounded bitter and hurt. Probably because I was.
“Well, that’s bull puckies. How do you know what this other man’s agenda is?”
“He’s an old family friend of Aaron’s,” I said, though it wasn’t much of an answer.
“You know, I always wondered. About Aaron’s accident, I mean….” Mrs. Delphi gave a soft sigh, her tone thoughtful, as if she were thinking aloud. “So much tragedy in that family, and it all happened so close together. Is that odd? I find it odd. Someone really should poke around. But Aaron doesn’t have much support left, I think. And him still struggling to recover no from those terrible injuries. Poor boy. Poor, poor lonely, abandoned soul.”
I blinked and stared at the leaves.
“His accident happened in Los Angeles, didn’t it? Doesn’t your father live in Southern California?”
“Um. Yeah. He lives in Temecula.”
“Temecula. I bet it’s nice there. It’s been awhile since you’ve seen him, hasn’t it?”
What was she implying? As if I should go running around the entire freaking world on Aaron’s account after he’d broken my heart. More than broken it. Crushed me like a bug under his shoe.
“I can’t go to California, Mrs. Delphi,” I huffed. “Even if I wanted to. The semester’s started. I’ve got classes right now!”
“Of course you do. That’s much more important than Aaron.”
Squeak, squeak.
I wanted to yell at her. Who was she anyway? She didn’t even know Aaron! Who asked her for advice? Not me. In fact nobody. Nobody asked her advice.
I took a gulp of tea. I made a loud, unhappy noise to let her know my opinion of her opinions.
She chuckled. “Oh, Billy. You’re such a good lad.