Normally, someone like that would wear me out in five seconds, but the excitement in her eyes and the way she kept rocking back on her heels was sort of contagious.
"Do you have more stuff to get?" she asked.
"I'm pretty much done. I really came to catch you and was sucked down the ice cream aisle. It calls to me."
I laughed and looked at my full cart. "Yeah, I hope I'm done."
"Come on then. We can check out together." As we waited in the checkout aisle, Dee rattled on, and I forgot about the weird incident in the milk aisle. Dee believed Petersburg needed another grocery store - because this one didn't carry organic food - and she wanted organic chicken for what she was making Daemon fix her for dinner. After a few minutes I got past the difficulty of keeping up with her and actually started to relax. She wasn't bubbly, just really... alive. I hoped she rubbed off on me.
The checkout line moved quicker than it did in larger cities. Once outside, she stopped next to a new Volkswagen and unlocked the trunk.
"Nice car," I commented. They had money, obviously, or Dee had a job.
"I love it." She patted the rear bumper. "It's my baby."
I shoved groceries in the back of my sedan.
"Katy?"
"Yeah?" I twirled the keys around my finger, hoping asshat brother aside, she wanted to hang out later. There was no telling how late Mom was going to sleep.
"I should apologize for my brother.
Knowing him, I'm sure he wasn't very nice." I sort of felt sorry for her, being that she was related to such a tool. "It's not your fault." Her fingers twisted around her key ring, and her eyes drifted to mine. "He's really overprotective, so he doesn't take well to strangers."
Like a dog? I almost smiled, but her eyes were wide and she looked genuinely scared I wouldn't forgive her. Having a brother like him must suck. "It's no big deal. Maybe he was just having a bad day."
"Maybe." She smiled, but it seemed forced.
"Seriously, no worries. We're good," I said.
"Thanks! I'm totally not a stalker. I swear." She winked. "But I'd love to hang out this afternoon. Got any plans?"
"Actually, I was thinking of tackling the overgrown flower bed in the front. You wanna help?" Having company might be fun.
"Oh, that sounds great. Let me get these groceries home, and I'll head straight over," she said. "I'm really excited to garden! I've never done that."
Before I could ask what sort of childhood didn't include at least the obligatory tomato plant, she'd dashed off to her car and zoomed out of the parking lot. I pushed off my bumper and headed toward the driver's side. I opened the car door and was about to climb in when the feeling of being watched crept over me.
My eyes darted around the parking lot, but there was only a man in a black suit and dark sunglasses staring at a missing person's picture on a community corkboard. All I could think of was Men in Black.
The only thing he needed was that little memory-wiper device and a talking dog. I would've laughed, except nothing about the man was funny...Especially since he was now staring right back at me.
...
A little past one that afternoon, Dee knocked on the front door. When I stepped outside, I found her standing near the steps, rolling back on the heels of her wedge sandals. Not what I'd consider "gardening" attire. The sun cast a halo around her dark head and she had an impish grin on her face. In that moment, she reminded me of a fairy princess. Or maybe a cracked-out Tinker Bell, considering how hyper she was.
"Hey." I stepped out onto the porch, closing the door quietly behind me. "My mom's sleeping."
"I hope I didn't wake your mom," she mock whispered.
I shook my head. "Nah, she'd sleep through a hurricane. It's happened, actually."
Dee grinned as she sat on the swing. She looked timid, hugging her elbows. "As soon as I came home with groceries, Daemon ate half a bag of my potato chips, two of my fudge pops, and then half of the peanut butter jar." I started laughing. "Wow. How does he stay so..." Hot.
"Fit?"
"It's amazing." She pulled her legs up and wrapped her arms around them. "He eats so much we usually have to run two to three trips a week to the store." She looked at me with a sly glint