“Alright, love. Your daddy will be here any second to take you home.” I rush to block the door before she can open it.
Her little eyebrows dip with confusion. “We can go in your car. I help wif my seat.” She points to her car seat in the corner.
I bend down so we’re face-to-face. “I’m so sorry, Junie. I can’t go to your house like we’d planned.”
Her bottom lip pokes out, tempting me to give up my resolve to stay out of her life for her own good. “We can go toyour house to play wif your toys. I won’t touch anyfing off-limits. Promise.”
A thousand responses play in my head. I should be tough, tell her I don’t have toys and I don’t do play dates. But I can’t watch her blinking rapidly to hold back tears and break her heart without breaking mine, too. Mine is already pretty broken, but hurting Junie might crush it beyond repair.
A knock at the door saves me from having to make the decision. Cal pokes his head inside, then his whole body before he closes the door behind him.
“You okay?” His shoulders fill the door frame; his light blue tee is smudged with dirt, and the smell of grass, sweat, and hard work permeates the air.
I nod, flooded with relief as I nudge Junie toward her dad. But she clings tightly to my hand, tugging me along with her, and my relief is followed by the realization that she doesn’t have to tug too hard. I’m drawn to the safety of Cal.
“Daddy can Fwankie still come to our house? Or I go to her house? I’ll be on best haviors. Promise.”
Despite the tugging from Junie and my own weakness, I plant my feet. “No, Junie. We’ll have to play another time,” I say firmly with my eyes on Cal, so he knows I’m not going to drag him or Junie into my mess of a life.
Cal’s brows dive into the same confused look Junie gave me a few minutes ago. “I came for both of you.”
“Cal—”
He hands me the hat and camouflage hoodie he’s holding. “There’s no one at the back door. A couple people at the end of the alley…”
I don’t move. “If I go with you, you’re part of this disaster for more than a few hours. You’ll be hounded. Junie won’t be safe.”
Junie stops tugging but doesn’t let go of my hand, just steps closer to me.
Cal’s eyes drift from mine to Junie who looks back at him with an innocence he has to guard before anything else.
I gently pull my hand from hers and nudge her toward her dad. “Take her and go. You can’t hide me this time.”
With one hand around Junie’s and the other still held out to me, his gaze returns to mine. “Too late. That’s what the camo’s for—to hide you. It’s not much of a disguise, but…” his shoulder lifts with the corner of his mouth.
I purse my lips, trying not to return his smile. Not sure he meant to, but with one dry joke, Cal has laid bare both the seriousness and ridiculousness of my situation.
I can’t hide anymore. The idea I ever could was always an illusion.
But I also shouldn’t have to hide like an animal being hunted. It’s the hunter who wears camo, not the prey.
“No more arguments,” he adds. “I’m not leaving you alone.”
I know I shouldn’t. It’s selfish. Cal has no idea what he’s getting himself and Junie into.
I take the hoodie and hat anyway. The hoodie drowns me, the sleeves fall past my hands and the frayed bottom hits me mid-thigh. I zip it to my chin. It smells like wet grass after a storm: sharp and sweet; windswept, but sturdy.
It smells like Cal.
I tuck my hair under the hat, then pull up the hood over the hat. As a final piece to my disguise, Cal takes the sunglasses tucked into the neck of his shirt—the same pair I wore the other day—and hands them to me.
I slip them on, then tug the drawstrings on the hood so it’s tight around my chin and cheeks. I’m sure I look ridiculous, but the less of my face any potential photographers capture, the lessmoney they’ll make on the image. Better yet, the more they have to focus on figuring out if it’s me behind the hoodie and glasses, the less they’ll focus on Cal and Junie. More than anything, I want to keep them safe.
“How do I look?” I ask, trying to make a joke of the situation that’s not funny in any way.
Cal sways side-to-side, studying me, before tucking a loose curl under the hat. The brush of his fingertips against my cheek sets off an avalanche of sensation—the first good feeling I’ve had in hours.
“Like someone trying to hide, but no one will be able to get a good picture of your face.”
