Page 106 of Big Dill

“Brody.”

Oh, fuck.

I turn to find Mr. Cheeseman’s car idling on the road as he walks toward me, his eyes sharp behind wire-rimmed glasses.

“Ah… hi, Mr. Cheeseman. How are you today?”

“Doing all right.” He leans to the left, glancing at the door. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah… Jami was just kidding around.”

He nods, gaze narrowing ever so slightly. “You haven’t heard from Jaxon, then?”

Great, now I feel like shit. Here we are messing around while Jaxon is laid up. He said to have fun and take care of each other but still…

“Yeah…we were just talking to him.” I shove my hands into my pockets, happy that Jaxon is okay but still upset that he’s down and out. “He has to have surgery. He’s staying with my cousin Devon in Lab City. We’re going to fly out for his surgery.”

“Shame,” he says, glancing down, like he’s personally responsible for the accident. “I plowed just before he fell. It might not have been so slippery if I left the snow.”

My heart tightens. “It’s not your fault, Mr. Cheeseman.”

“Yeah, well I’m the mayor of this town. It’s my job to know everything that’s going on and ensure the safety of the citizens.”

“Our streets get slippery. Hey, maybe we ought to hire the guy who salts the fries at the golden arches.”

As he stares at me, my joke landing flat, the door creaks and Jami pops her head out. “Oh, hi, Mr. Cheeseman.”

“Jami,” he says, nodding. “Sorry about your brother. Nice to see your spirits are up.”

I can practically hear her groan inwardly. “Jaxon wants me to keep my chin up. I’m going to help out at the social… and take his place in the tournament.”

His eyes flick between us, and I somehow think he can read more than either of us wants him to see. “I see.”

God, what the hell does he see?

“Good to see things are up with you too, Brody.” He glances at his car, still idling in the street. “If Jaxon needs anything…just let me know.”

“Will do,” I say, heart hammering. As he walks away, I hurry inside, slamming the door behind us.

“That man needs a damn bell,” I mutter.

She crinkles up her nose. “Do you think he knows?”

My head drops and I sigh. “I think he knows.”

“Yeah,” She mutters. “He knows too much.”

That niggles something loose in the back of my brain. “Wait, what exactly was it he saw you buying at the department store?”

“Nothing,” she shoots back quickly.

“Is it in your bedroom?”

She plants her hands on her hips. “Where it is, is none of your business.”

I put my hand on her shoulders, and turn her, pressing her against the door. Then I point to the stairs. “Will I find it in your nightstand?” Before she can answer I bolt up the stairs and she shrieks as she comes running after me.

“Don’t you dare go into my nightstand.”