We are tiptoeing into unfamiliar territory. I don’t know anything about Nellie’s mom except that her name was Jolene and she died when Nellie was only a year old. Whitney shared that information when she told me about the job. Other than that, Sutton hasn’t addressed the topic or how I should handle it. If I should handle it at all.
A loud, excitedwooffrom Merit saves me from diving off the deep end into this conversation. The huge German shepherd yanks on her leash, straining to get to her favorite human. Nellie’s head snaps up at the commotion, joining Merit’s noisy greeting with her own gasp.
“Daddy!”
Nellie throws her backpack off her shoulders and sprints over the sun-dried weeds straight for her father. He scoops her up mid-run.
I watch them with a newfound pain in my chest. The scene slices into me like a dull, rusty knife, awakening long-buried hurt from my childhood. Can you grieve over something you never really had? I don’t have memories of my dad spending time with me. But after watching the two of them, I wish I did.
I join them a moment later with a wistful smile plastered into place. Nellie’s backpack is slung over my shoulder, Merit’s leash clenched in my other hand.
“Let me help you with that.” Sutton keeps his arm around Nellie, but pulls the backpack from my shoulder and onto his. His bicep presses against the length of mine. I step back from the contact once he has the weight settled.
“Thanks.” My eyes flick over Nellie, her head on his shoulder and her arms wound tight around his neck.
“I can take Merit too.”
I wave him off. “I’ve got her.”
He scans my face. He’s probably trying to decide whether it’s worth fighting me on this sidewalk. Either that or he’s waiting for the snarky response.
We all start the trek home. After a few minutes, Nellie lifts her head and begins recounting her day. By the speed at which her mouth is moving, it doesn’t seem like she’s leaving out a single second.
My watch vibrates, dragging my attention away from Nellie’s story, and I fall a few steps behind. I’ve gotten so used to the unlisted numbers calling me that the text bubble on my screen stirs unease to the forefront.
UNKNOWN:
You think you can hide?
I won’t let you ruin this
I will find you, Alice
The next breath catches.All this for a show? This fucking podcaster is crossing a line I’d rather he not cross.
“Ms. Thompson?” Sutton’s voice draws me away from what I left in Arizona and back to this sunny sidewalk in central Minnesota.
An unreadable look clouds his face. Swallowing hard, I stare back. I could tell him. I could open my phone and show him the call list full of red numbers. I could show him the box of photos. He could help.
Or he could tell me to get out of his house and fire me for bringing this shit to his front lawn. And then what?
I’ll be back to square one. This time without a job.
“Sorry, I’m coming.”
The two of them watch me as I jog to catch up. Sutton’s expression is such a contradiction to his daughter’s. At some point during my delay, she regained her own two feet, but the earlier sadness is gone, not a trace of it left. Sutton, however, wears a mix of assessing and annoyance. Something I imagine he’s perfected over his years in law enforcement.
“You know if you keep looking at me like that, your face will get stuck that way.”
Sutton sends his eyes skyward.
I contort my face and stick out my tongue at Nellie behind his back. She erupts into giggles, sending me back a funny look of her own.
Nellie links her free hand with mine, causing the three of us to make a chain across the sidewalk. It’s oddly domestic, but I push away the thought.
“Miss Alice, can you stay for movie night?”
Sutton’s shoulders tense in my periphery.
