Revealing Annie - Freya Barker Page 0,8

pickup truck out of the parking lot.

“Dayum. That man is fine.”

I slap my hand over my mouth to keep from laughing. Margaret has at least twenty years on me, if not more, stands about five feet tall, and is the spitting image of Sophia Petrillo on Golden Girls. That cute grandma-look hides the mouth of a long-haul trucker and the tenacity of a terrier.

In the relatively short time I’ve known Margaret, she’s gone through four boyfriends. Not really surprising, considering the woman has more spring than the Energizer Bunny. I have a sneaky suspicion she wears the poor guys out.

“He’s not bad,” I concede.

She whips her head around. “You’re full of it,” she accuses me, pointing her bony finger in my face. “But I’ll let you off the hook for now. Did the Stephensons come pick up Max?” She ducks behind the desk and starts stabbing at the computer’s keyboard with two fingers.

She makes my head spin with her abrupt change of direction. Nothing wrong with her mind yet either.

“They were here at two on the dot. I scheduled Max for neutering in two months with Doc Rivers.”

“Good. Anything else I need to know about?”

“The guy from Fresh Pet Foods called again. I took a message.”

“Pushy bastard,” she mumbles under her breath. “Okay, it’s five. Get outta here. I’ve gotta feed my kids.”

Without waiting for my response, she pushes through the door to the kennels where she is greeted by excited barks from our residents. Everyone loves Margaret. She has a gift.

I grab my bag from behind the desk and head home.

At home I park my Matrix in the carport and head straight for Edward’s trailer. He must’ve been on the lookout because the door opens when I walk up. He already has Blossom’s leash in hand.

“Are you good for dinner?” I ask, noting he still moves tentatively.

“Got pizza coming,” he grumbles, watching me clip the leash on the dog. “I could probably spare a slice.”

“Save it for your lunch tomorrow. I’ve got leftover salad I should finish,” I tell him.

“That ain’t enough to fill ya.”

One of the reasons I’ve only shared a few meals with him is because he watches me like a hawk and doesn’t hesitate to comment on the quantity—or lack thereof—of food I consume.

I don’t eat much. I like cooking, I love baking, but I don’t eat a lot of it myself. I spent a lifetime trying to fit expectations and it’s a hard habit to break, even if the people in my life now probably wouldn’t care if I were ninety, or a hundred and ninety pounds. That wasn’t always the case, though, and like I said; it’s a hard habit to break.

It’s how I met Erin. We both ended up in an online support group for people with a variety of eating disorders. She’s doing much better now, more so than I am, but it’s one of those things I don’t think you can ever completely shake.

I force myself to smile at Edward.

“Okay, if you’re sure. I’ll steal a slice when I drop Blossom off.”

He grunts in response before turning to his trailer, and I take off with the pooch.

4

Annie

I’m worried about my neighbor.

Usually when he’s not well, it’s just for a day or two, but it’s been over a week now. He looked almost gray when I took Blossom for her walk. I tried to get him to call his doctor, but he won’t hear of it.

This afternoon Mrs. Sokoloff, who neighbors Edward on the other side, intercepted me coming back from the river. I’ve barely shared two words with her since I moved in, but she suddenly had a lot to say. Mostly complaints about Blossom. Apparently, in recent days, Edward resorted to simply opening the door and letting Blossom take herself out in the mornings. Which she had done—in Mrs. Sokoloff’s little yard.

I was gonna talk to Edward about it, but when I got back to his trailer he was in the bedroom and called for me to shut the door on my way out. I figured that talk could wait until tomorrow, and instead, I grabbed a garbage bag from my place and went back to Mrs. Sokoloff’s to clean up the dog poo.

“Relax into your pose. You seem tense tonight.” The woman leading the yoga class—I think her name is Heidi—puts a hand on the small of my back. “Connect with your breath and let it center you.”

I close my eyes and focus on releasing the tension with each