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“You bitch! Come back here and untie us!” As it turns out, trolls are not happy with being tied to a giant boulder to await the stony deaths that will come as soon as the sun’s rays hit them.
I don’t want to stay here and listen to them screaming at me, so I do the only thing that comes to mind.
“I’m really sorry about this,” I say softly. Then I smack him across the face, hard.
He shakes his head and rubs his cheek. “Jesus Christ on a cross, Miranda! What the hell?”
“Sorry, no time to explain right now. We have to get back to your house!” I grab his hand and pull him along as we run the entire way.
Once we are back inside, I look at my watch. “So, George, this has been a real blast, but I have to get back to my family.”
I start for the door, but he calls to me. “Um, Miranda, aren’t you forgetting something?”
I skid to a stop but don’t bother to turn around. My eyelids are heavy and I want to curl up on his marble floor. I have no patience for his docent games. “Did I forget to bow or something?”
“Seriously? No! We need to go find the trolls, remember? Are you feeling okay?”
NowI turn to him. “Am, amIfeeling okay? Areyoufeeling okay, George? BecauseIjust wrapped up three trolls and tied them to a boulder to await their demise.”
He furrows his brow. “You, what? What trolls?”
I rub my forehead and sigh. “You were spelled, George. The trolls made you forget about them. They were planning to set up camp in your woods until they had enough of their buddies come join them so they could then take over the town or something, and they didn’t want us to ruin their agenda.”
His eyes are open and unblinking, but somehow, they look hollow, as if every time he tries to remember what happened, he’s spelled all over again.
I walk over and put a maternal hand on his shoulder. “We can talk about this more in the morning. For tonight, just trust me. And stay inside. Got it?”
He nods back to me. “Yeah. I will. I’m just going to go take a shower because I really stink.”
I nod along with him as I open his front door. “Yeah, you really do. Night, George!”
Once outside, I jog to my car. I don’t want to be out here any longer than I have to, especially alone. As I turn on the engine, I send Jake a text so he knows I’m okay.
Mission Accomplished. On my way home.
Love you.
Chapter 9
Jake
Georgewasgoodwiththe kids, so I can no longer complain about him coming over. Up until now it’s been hard for me to see him as anything but the guy who got Miranda, and, by extension me, into this mess. But seeing him in a different setting, living his life like a regular dude…he’s just a kid himself. He didn’t make the rules. He wasn’t the one that chose Miranda.
Her cover story seems to have worked too, telling the kids he’s our personal trainer. Once she left though, I had to cover for her, and that was trickier.
“Where’s Mom?” Jessie is the only one who needs Miranda at all times. I’m acceptable only in the direst of circumstances.
“She…had to go get some stuff from the store…?” I know I am not selling it.
“Really? Like what?” She locks her hazel eyes onto me and squints slightly with suspicion. Her arms and ankles are crossed as she leans against the doorframe to her room. In this posture, she looks as if she is twenty-four, not fourteen. She’s always seemed older than her age, but this level of maturity catches me off guard.
I’m going to have to sell this a lot more convincingly if I’m to get through this night, or rather, this whole life, without spilling all of Miranda’s secrets. I square my shoulders and look her right in the eye. Teenagers can smell fear, so I need to stay cool and casual.
“She said something about a pop-up bake sale before the long weekend, so she has to bake tomorrow.”
“Oh.” Luckily, she doesn’t keep track of the PTA’s schedule at the elementary school anymore. Hopefully, she won’t mention it to Natalie and Sam, or they’ll expect some cupcakes after school later this week, and Miranda will not be happy with me if she has to bake just because I’m a bad liar.
The rest of the kids are perfectly happy to have me hanging out with them, reading them silly stories, and getting them to bed. I try to stay focused on the silly voices Natalie and Sam still let me use to read to them. Most times they prefer to do their own thing, but once in a while they curl up together on my bed like they did when they were tiny. That was when our biggest worries were when they’d spike their next fever or puke just short of the bathroom.
