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I all but whisper now, “Well, what would you call it?” as embarrassment creeps through me. “What would you call being unable to function like a normal twenty-four-year-old girl because I…?”
I still can’t bring myself to say the ugly part. I swallow hard and fold my arms tightly across my chest.
He spends a few seconds just studying me.
Then he says, “I don’t know. Maybe‘problem’is the right word after all. But the upside to that is this: problems can be fixed.” One corner of his mouth curves upward.
I would love to be fixed.
The shadowy part of me that has wanted to keep away from Landon pokes at my spine and whispers,Watch yourself, Liv. Don’t lose your footing. You know what happens to women in your family who lose their footing chasing thrills. Life can’t be danced through. You have to be smart and careful in order to keep yourself off the ground.
But Landon said not to confuse happiness with distraction.
I can give a little and still keep my eyes open.
I can step out of my bubble and still watch my feet.
Shadows be damned. I deserve better than them, and so does Rae.
Right?
With that in mind, I voice an idea that comes to me. “Maybe when Rae is feeling better, the three of us can go to the park or something.”
Landon perks up, his green eyes brightening. “Yeah!”
I nod more times than I need to. “Park is free. She’ll love it. Bad moods aren’t the only reason to spend time outside.”
“Definitely, Ms.—Ms.—uh—” He looks at me inquisitively.
“McKellar,” I supply.
“There it is. Yes, we have a park plan, Ms. McKellar.” He smiles at me, and then he goes back to working on his food.
Before I take a drink of my water, I let myself smile, too.
|| 8 || Landon
“You guys are doing awesome,” remarks Bettie, the head honcho of all things concerning the Battered Women’s Shelter. I look over my shoulder and see her strolling around the room I’ve been painting with Jerry and Clara, who are friends of Bill’s wife. “Really smooth job.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” I say happily. “Get the playroom painted?”
“I did! I’m not sure how I feel about that dark green, but it’s definitely better than the wallpaper the old playroom had.”
“Ew,” laughs Jerry. “Wallpaper.”
“My thoughts exactly!”
I get fresh paint on my roller and start a steady swipe up the wall. I think I’d prefer dark green to the pale yellow this living room is going to be, but it won’t look bad, especially when furniture gets brought in.
The day has been going great despite how many volunteers we ended up missing. Bill and Shannon are still out of town and couldn’t come help like they planned, and three of the others we were expecting had to call out for various reasons. It has left the job of painting all this interior (and there isa lotof it) to just seven of us: me, Jerry, Clara, Bettie, her cousin, and two people from their church.
We won’t get it all done today like we hoped. We’ve been at it for several hours now, so we should be calling it before too long. I’m looking forward to the hot shower I’ll have just enough time for before my shift at the bar; I wouldn’t say I’m out of shape, but this work has dug pretty painfully into my muscles.
Indeed, Bettie goes on to say, “Well, when you guys finish this, I think we’ll go home for the day. We all did the bedrooms and bathrooms together, then y’all came in here and I went to the playroom while the others went to the kitchen. All that’s left are the dining room and hallways, I think.”
“Dang,” I say as I guide my roller along. “Solid work for our team being smaller than we anticipated!”
“Sure is! If we can get a few people back in here tomorrow, we can finish up then.” I hear her groan a little. “I’m sure everyone is as ready as I am to get their achy butt in front of a TV.”
