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Merry took the tape gun from me. “You don’t have to pack things up.”
“I don’t want to take up space.”
Merry winced. “It’s not like that.”
“Oh, but I think it is.” I swung open doors, pulling out my pans. I stacked all my baking sheets, bowls, measuring cups, gadgets, and silicone molds on the island. Everything started sliding, and Den turned up the volume even more.
In a daze, I washed dishes, scrubbed the sink, and then cleaned the counters. I tried my best to erase my very existence from the kitchen. I stuffed down the sadness. The first kernel of what I was meant to be had started right here on this faded Formica counter. Late night brownies had become brookies—a cookies and brownies mashup.
I’d tried to crack the recipe from a bakery in Manhattan. Just for fun.
For people who didn’t live in New York City.
For me, because I was a poor idiot who didn’t have anything better to do than to rip apart a recipe in the dead of night. And that night had changed everything for me.
I dashed away a tear and dumped the perfect choux pastries in the garbage. They wouldn’t survive a trip in my SUV. I definitely wouldn’t be bringing my inferior pastries to my Aunt Laverne’s place. Not when I was going to be begging for a place to stay.
I climbed onto my step stool to make sure I didn’t miss anything in the higher cabinets. Every once in awhile, I sniffed back an onslaught of tears. Merry stared up at me, her eyes equally watery.
Shaking my head, I gave her a hard stare. I wouldn’t get through this if she tried to placate me or make excuses. I didn’t want to stay where I wasn’t wanted.
Merry put together another box and I filled it. Again and again, until I was literally deleted from our—their—cramped kitchen. I moved on to my room, dumping piles of laundry into any bag I could get my hands on.
It took five trips to load everything into my old Santa Fe SUV.
And I damn well took the cart—I just wouldn’t think about its origin story.
My evil villain cart named…Loki.
I swallowed down a laugh. Dammit, the cart was so freaking pretty. Just like his namesake.
Merry came out with a large suitcase. “I really don’t want you driving while you’re so upset, especially since it’s dark. Can’t you wait until tomorrow?”
“It’s fine. I like driving at night.” I took the suitcase and crammed it into the passenger side. Loki took up most of the back. I’d packed around him.
Flashbacks of doing the same when I left college threatened to strangle me. Everything was too much the same. The memories of the fear and loss crowding up my throat ready to bubble into a sob.
“You’re really not leaving, are you? Like not for really real.”
I gave her a tight smile, but itfeltfor real. I swallowed hard against the wash of anxiety. I needed to focus on the now.
Besides, packing up the kitchen stuff was all that was important beyond my clothes. Kinda put a serious stamp on the finality of it. I’d lived there for three years. But the only thing that truly mattered was what I’d done in the kitchen.
I pulled her into a hug. “I’ll pay rent until I figure it out.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” She gripped me harder.
“I know.” I swayed with her for an extra minute before pulling back. “Maybe it’ll be better in a few weeks.”
But I knew it wouldn’t. And Merry knew it too.
“Tell the girls I said goodbye. I’ll come back for the rest of my stuff…soon.”
“Dammit, Wil.” Her navy-blue eyes filled.
“A change will do everyone some good.”
Merry dabbed at her eyes with her sleeve. “I didn’t think today would go this way.”
