felon, particularly not one who killed the town’s favorite daughter.
“Well, we’re glad you’re here,” he says again.
“Me too.” I point toward the field. “I’m going to go take care of that grass, unless you need something else done.”
Suddenly Katie reappears and marches up to both of us, and she’s spitting mad. “I just have one question for you,” she says, her hands on her hips as she glares at me.
“Okay, shoot,” I say. I adjust the ladder on my shoulder, since it’s still resting there.
“Are you eating okay? Do you have blankets? Are you getting enough rest?”
“That was three questions,” I inform her.
Her face softens. “I know. I’m just so worried about you. Your mom is too, and we can’t help it.” She stomps her foot in the grass, and it’s all I can do not to laugh at her. But I think she’s genuinely sincere, which is also hilarious to me.
“I’m eating just fine. I go to the store when I need to.”
Her brow furrows. “They treat you okay there?”
“They treat me fine.” At least they do at the tackle shop. I get most of what I need there.
“I have blankets if you need them,” she rushes to add.
“I have plenty.” I nod at her. “But thank you for worrying about me. You’re doing my mama proud.”
She grins. “Thanks.”
Then she marches off back in the direction she came from.
“Pigheaded,” Jake mutters. “I told you.”
I can’t bite back my smile. “I think it’s sweet.” And aggravating as fuck, but still sweet.
He chuckles. “That’s generous of you.”
I nod toward the field as a reminder, and I head off to put my ladder up. My duck follows, his noisy little mouth talking the whole way.
“So now I get shit from you too?” I ask him, but his cute little waddle and the way he runs honking after me make me laugh. Genuinely laugh, not from something witty or amusing, but from sheer joy.
That’s something I haven’t done in a really long time. It feels almost foreign, but it feels right at the same time.
9
Abigail
The tackle shop sells cake. Or at least they sell cake mix. I peruse the aisles slowly, taking in the eclectic mix of products from one side of the shop to the other. On the left, they sell all-and-sundry goods, meaning anything you might need to buy on the fly, like toilet paper, bread, peanut butter, sardines—though all the sardine cans are dusty because not that many people like to eat tiny fish that can look you in the eye as you eat them—and fruits and vegetables in cans. On the right, there are life jackets, fishing rods, tackle, and anything you might need while camping.
So I’m really surprised when I find cake mix. And candles. I toss both into the little red plastic basket that’s hanging over my arm. Then I also get a tube of frosting, and a can of frosting, because…well…frosting. Then as I walk through the aisles, I see a novelty t-shirt that says: my duck is bigger than your duck! He needs that shirt.
I’ve seen him walking through the complex with his little duck following along behind him. It’s a-freakin’-dorable and I’ve wanted more than once to go over and ask him if I can pet it. But he’s avoiding me. He knows he’s avoiding me. I’m aware that he’s avoiding me. Now everyone is aware that he’s avoiding me, so I feel like it’s best to let him do his thing.
But I can’t do that today, because today is his birthday. I know it’s his birthday because his birthday is on the same day of the month as mine, but it falls one month before. He spent a full thirty days teasing me about being a baby, when he was thirteen for a whole month while I still had to be twelve.
I don’t know if he has plans for his birthday, but I do know that I’m not going to let it go by with no one the wiser. I’m going to make him a cake, and I’m going to deliver it to him with a poorly sung song, and he’s going to smile at me, and then he’s going to blush, and I’m going to love every second of his discomfort.
I go to pay for my purchases, and the guy at the counter stares at me hard. I look down at myself to be sure there’s no huge stain on me from breakfast, but I’m clean. “What?”