Chapter 26
Levi
“This wasn’twhat I had in mind.” Claire’s bottom lip jutted out in a pout as she sat cross-legged on my sofa, a blanket draped over her shoulders and cradling a steaming cup of tea.
“But it’s what you need,” I said.
I stood a few feet away, crouched to pet Ripley but mostly keeping a safe distance from Claire. I was being honest when I said I didn’t want to be her distraction from whatever happened, at least not at this point in the process. I could practically hear my mother shouting,You better not take advantage of that sweet woman in crisis.
As if I would. Still. Best to keep the space. Claire was determined and had grabby little fingers.
Wrapped in that blanket, looking like a petulant child, Claireeventually let out a long sigh. “I don’t know what you want me to say,” she said.
“Start from the beginning.” I stood and brushed my hands on my knees when Ripley burrowed herself deeper in her blankets, done with scratches.
“It was a sunny day in May at Our Lady of Assumption Hospital in Chicago, Illinois, when my first cries broke through the air. My mother bravely labored for seventeen hours?—”
I sat back in the short chair across from her with a loud sigh. “Come on, Claire.”
“What? You didn’t specify.”
I guessed moving on from blind lust to anger and annoyance was a sort of progress. “You weren’t kidding when you said you were bad at this.”
“My mom died suddenly from cancer when I was nineteen. For all his wonderful qualities, my father is still a Boomer firefighter from Chicago and a byproduct of his generation. We didn’t have a lot of big emotional talks.” She studied her tea. “Not everybody can just identify what they’re feeling in the moment and label it.”
“Thankfully, I was raised by a woman who bordered on being a hippie, so I know exactly how to do those things.” I scooted forward in the chair until I could reach her knees and rub them through the blanket. “Take your time. You aren’t alone, and I want to help.”
She set her tea on the side table before rounding her shoulders and stretching her neck. “Ugh. This is itchy.”
“What is?” I ran a hand over the blanket.
“Talking about all this. I feel itchy.”
I huffed a laugh. “You seemed plenty able to talk about things at the general store when you first arrived in town, if you recall.”
“And ifyourecall, that was a week after the breakup, and the creamer was pushing me to the edge with its emotional demands.” Her arms wrapped tight around her middle, and a loud gurgling sound filled the air between us. “Ugh. You brought this upon yourself; just remember that.”
“I’ll take the risk.”
“Well. After I left hanging out this morning?—”
She met my gaze with a flash of heat, and both of us recalled the fun times of getting each other off earlier.
“I went to hang out with Madi and Gigi, and I got a call from my editor. They pulled my story set to publish next week, and also, I’m fired.”
“The story you came here to finish?”
She nodded. “The very one. The one I spent months of my life working on.”
“I don’t understand. Did they give a reason?”
She continued to nod, but it led to her upper body rocking in a sort of self-soothing motion. “Budget cuts.”
I frowned at her. This article was important to her, but she also mentioned earning income from smaller pieces and miscellaneous help with researching and fact-checking. This meant she’d more than lost the article. She lost her sole source of income. More important, she’d lost what was driving her.
“That’s the official reason.” Her features clouded, and she stiffened. “But I got a cryptic text from my ex right before I got fired. I don’t even know how he knew.”
My thoughts snagged on that detail, wondering how often she talked to the douche canoe ex-boyfriend.
