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“Aww, man,” Billy replied, running a hand through his messy hair. “I would, but the sheriff always grabs the checks the day I get ‘em. He don’t like havin’ them floating around. Kinda paranoid. Hey, you want to just give the check straight to him? You’re seein’ him today, right?”
“I am.” I had to meet with him to sign the release paperwork when my three remaining hours were done. “Yeah, I’ll just give the check to him.” I gave him a nod. “Thanks for everything, Billy. Have a nice life.” I turned to the door.
“Charlotte?” He was blushing and staring down at the desk. “You’ve been a real nice guest. Usually it’s just me sittin’ here all night in an empty motel, or some of those Copperheads rentin’ rooms and trashin’ them and whatnot. It’s been nice havin’ someone like you around instead.”
I smiled at the kid. I was strangely touched by his affection. “I’ll miss you too, Billy. And your three-dollar bags of M&Ms.”
I walked to main street and began thinking about what I would say to Jayce. I was dreading seeing him because there wasn’t anything to say. He would either pretend like I was mistaken about my assumptions, or he would lean into it and tell me that’s who he really was. Whichever way it went, I didn’t want to hear it.
The dread grew in my chest as I got closer to town. It was like walking into class to take a test I never studied for. I wanted to turn and run back to the motel, to call Mindy and tell her I was too sick to do the work.
That would only delay my exit from this awful town, but the desire was so strong it was difficult just to keep moving forward.
Yet as I arrived on the main street, there was no white truck parked outside the community center. No guilty-looking man with crystal blue eyes and a smile that would make me forget all the reasons I was angry.
I sat on the bench and waited. I browsed Twitter, waited some more, and then looked at the clock. It was fifteen past eight. I could call or text him to make sure he was okay…
No. That would be a mistake. I didn’t care anymore. Instead, I went into the diner to ask Mindy.
“There she is,” Flop said from the first booth. He had a mug of coffee in his hand and a half-eaten cinnamon roll on his plate. “Last day here, right?”
“It sure is.”
“Lucky you,” he said with a sad smile. A smile that held my secrets. “Don’t dawdle on your way out. Run, and don’t look back, you hear?”
“I plan to.”
Mindy came out of the kitchen holding a plate with a cinnamon roll the size of a baseball glove. “Heard you missed my last batch. Made another for your last day.”
“You didn’t have to do that!” I began, but she waved it off.
“Nobody ever earned brownie points by turning down free food. Sit down and have some breakfast. I’ll consider it community service in helping test a new recipe.”
I obeyed and immediately dug in with a fork. The cinnamon roll was so fluffy that my fork cut through it with ease, and the icing was hot and gooey.
“Should I wait for Jayce?” I asked as Mindy poured me some coffee. “He isn’t here yet.”
Mindy raised an eyebrow. “Sotoday’sthe day he stopped coming?” She laughed to herself. “About time he quit. Surprised he kept it up this long.”
I almost started to defend Jayce by telling her he was always a model citizen when it came to the community service, but I stopped myself. He didn’t need me to defend him, nor did he deserve it.
“You can do the work by yourself,” she said. “It’s an easy day. Unless you’ve got bad allergies?”
“I do not,” I said with my mouth full.
The work sheet instructed me to use a broom to brush all the yellow pollen off the main street of town. It was the time of year where it fell in giant yellow clouds, coating everything in sight. But I didn’t have allergies at all, so sweeping the road one yard at a time was calm, relaxing work.
The only thing stressful about it was waiting to see if Jayce showed up. Every time I heard a truck or motorcycle come rumbling up the road I tensed, but it was never him. I was alone.
Which was exactly what I wanted. To quietly finish my work and get the heck out of this town. Jayce showing up would only complicate things.
At least, that’s what I told myself. The ache in my gut tried to convince me otherwise.
I finished my work and then visited Mindy again. She pulled out the master sheet of community service, marked me down for the final three hours, and then had me sign at the bottom.
“That’s it?” I asked.
“That’s it.” She smiled, but only for a moment. “Looks like your ride is here.”
