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“A job?”
“Get the wax out of your ears. Come back next week and you can walk Tango for me. Blue’s worthless. She says she’s walking him, but all she does is take him around the corner and let him sleep.”
“Because he’s too old to walk,” Blue called out from the kitchen.
Wrinkles folded up between Mrs. Garrison’s eyebrows like she might be thinking she was getting too old to walk, too. Somehow it made Riley less afraid of her. She sort of liked what Mrs. Garrison had said about how Riley finally looked like somebody with a good opinion of herself. April, Dean, and her dad were always saying nice things to her, but they were just trying to build her self-esteem, and Riley didn’t believe them. Mrs. Garrison didn’t care about stuff like self-esteem, so if she said something good, it was probably true. Riley decided to practice more with the book when she got back to the farm.
“Blue, bring me my purse!”
“Is there a gun in it?” Blue shot back.
Riley couldn’t believe the way Blue talked to Mrs. Garrison. Mrs.
Garrison must really, really need her or she’d make Blue leave. She wondered if Blue had figured that out yet.
When Mrs. Garrison got her purse, she pulled out a five-dollar bill and held it toward Riley. “Don’t buy candy with this or anything fattening.”
Riley’s dad always gave her twenties, and she didn’t need more money, but it would be rude to refuse. “Thank you, Mrs. Garrison.”
“Just remember what I told you about your posture.” She snapped her purse closed. “Blue will drive out to the farm to get you next week.”
“I’m not sure if I’ll still be here,” Riley said. Her dad hadn’t told her what day they were leaving, and she was afraid to ask him because, more than anything, she wanted to stay at the farm for the rest of her life.
On the way home, April reached over and patted Riley’s leg. She didn’t say anything. She just patted. She also hugged a lot and touched Riley’s hair and made Riley dance with her. Sometimes April acted just like a mom, except she wasn’t always talking about calories and boyfriends. Also, Riley’s mom had never said the curses April did. Mainly Riley liked the way April smelled, like wood and flowers and spiral notebook paper. She would never say it out loud, but sometimes being with April was even better than being with Dean, because Riley didn’t have to run around after a football all the time.
She started to smile, even though she had a ton of things to worry about. She couldn’t wait to tell Dean that she’d been alone with Mrs. Garrison, and she’d hardly been scared at all.
Chapter Eighteen
Blue’s bedroom might be the smallest on the second floor, but it was also the farthest from her employer’s, and it had a tiny balcony overlooking the backyard. She sat cross-legged on the pink plush carpet, her back against the puffy floral bedspread as she studied the drawing she’d just finished. Nita’s eyes looked like a ferret’s. She’d have to fix that. Or maybe not.
The gilt bedside clock pointed to midnight. She set her sketchbook aside, yawned, and closed her eyes. In her mind, she saw the caravan nestled under the trees. She imagined a light flickering in the window, calling her home. But the caravan wasn’t home, and she’d get over missing it the same way she’d gotten over missing all the other places she’d left behind. All the other people she’d left behind.
Something hit the balcony door, and she jumped. As she twisted around, she saw a looming figure. Her heart lurched. A melee of emotions—anticipation, dread, anger—struck her all at once. She pushed herself up from the carpet, stomped over to the door, and yanked it open. “What do you think you’re doing? I almost had a coronary.”
“I do that to women.” Dean stepped inside. He smelled spicy and exotic, while she smelled like hash browns. He took in her wrinkled Goodyear T-shirt with old paint stains on the logo. She hadn’t even washed her hair this morning because Nita kept banging her cane on the bathroom door demanding breakfast. Still, he seemed a lot more critical of the pink-on-pink bedroom than of her. “Where do you keep your Barbies?”
“You could have called,” she retorted. “Or, better yet, continued to ignore me.” She sounded like a sulky ex-girlfriend, but it hurt that he’d stayed away, even though that’s what she’d wanted him to do.
“Now where’s the fun in calling?” He wore faded button-fly jeans and a fitted black shirt with a tuxedo-pleated front. Who would even think of putting together something like that? And pulling it off so perfectly.
“How did you know this was my room?”
He slipped his finger under the bunched sleeve of her T-shirt and straightened it. “The only one with the light still on.”
If it weren’t so late, if Nita hadn’t tested the last ounce of her patience, if Blue hadn’t missed him so much, she’d have done a better job of hiding her feelings of ill use. As it was, she snatched her arm away. “You’ve ignored me all week, and now you decide to show up in the middle of the night.”
“I knew you’d miss me if I gave you half a chance.”
“Go away.”
He gazed down at her with those dreamy blue-gray eyes and brushed her cheekbone with his thumb. “You’re worn out. Have you finally had enough?”
She pulled her eyes away from the suntanned V of skin at his open shirt collar. “More than enough.”
“Good. I’ll let you come back.”
She couldn’t help it. She sucked her teeth.
