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ONE
Mira
“Thanks for staying late,”Saffron says as she sniffles.
“It’s no problem,” I assure her. “I hope that you feel better soon. Now go get some rest.”
She smiles weakly as she gathers her things and heads for the door. I turn back to the bookstore once she’s gone and look around at what I have left to do tonight.
The Shelf Indulgence Bookstore is empty at this time of night. To be fair, most of the shops in Wolf Valley are closed by now, so there’s not much reason for people to be out. The only other store that’s open is the other shop I work at, the Wet and Wild adult toy store.
I grab the Clorox wipes and start wiping down every surface that Saffron may have touched today. Disinfecting like this is second nature to me. I was sick a lot as a kid and teenager, and I can remember my mom wiping down every surface in our house nearly every day. It’s hard to tell if my mom was doing that because she was worried about someone else getting sick or if it was her own OCD that made her do that.
Growing up in my house was kind of rough. My mom was a germaphobe with untreated OCD who was afraid of everything. She never wanted to leave the house and hated to let me leave the house either. I would come home from school and have to immediately take a shower and change my clothes. I used to have to wash my hands so often that they would be red and raw.
I was isolated in that house. The only person that I had to talk to was my mom, and as you can imagine, that wasn’t a whole lot of fun.
When I was a little older and started driving, I tried to gain a bit more freedom and independence. That didn’t go over well.
I was the weird girl at school, so I didn’t have many friends. Even if I did, it’s not like I could have gone out or done stuff with them. I couldn’t have had them over to my house either.
I made a plan when I was seventeen to save up as much money as I could and get out of there. I worked at a grocery store throughout high school and saved up every penny. I didn’t have anything else to spend the money on since I was barely allowed out of the house.
When I turned twenty, I tried to convince my mom to go to therapy to get some help. I had brought up the idea before, but kind of vaguely, and she had always just kind of brushed me off. That time was different though. Instead of ignoring me or brushing my suggestion off, she blew up at me, telling me that nothing was wrong with her and insisting that she didn’t need therapy or any help at all.
I ended up leaving home the very next day and I haven’t been back since. I have no plans on going back either. It’s been two years, and I haven’t heard from her once.
I try not to think about my mom because it hurts too much. I want to focus on the positive, which is the fact that I got out, that I’m supporting myself, that I have friends and my freedom. I’m still trying to find myself and see what I like. Still, every now and then, I wonder what my mom is doing and if she misses me.
I push those thoughts aside and finish unboxing the newest shipment of books. It’s almost closing time, so I set them on the counter to log into the system and put them on the shelves tomorrow. I leave a note for Saffron next to the books in case she’s feeling better tomorrow and decides to come to work. Then, I gather my things and get ready to lock up.
As I close the door and pocket my keys, I’m not surprised to see Townes leaning against the side of the bookstore.
Excitement and arousal bubble up inside of me, and I try to force it down. Townes is hot, but he’s also overbearing and a bit of a grump. He’s always trying to do things for me, and I both love and hate it. Either way, ever since I moved to Wolf Valley five months ago, I seem to have picked up a new babysitter.
At first, I liked his attention. Being in a new town and all alone was kind of scary, but he always made me feel safe. Then he started trying to take over for me. He was always grabbing my groceries before I could, carrying boxes into the bookstore when I was doing inventory, opening water bottles for me, and just generally hovering around me.
“Mira,” Townes says in his deep voice.
“Shadow,” I reply, using the nickname I gave him when he first started popping up.
“How was work?” He asks, ignoring the nickname.
“Good.”
“I didn’t think that you closed tonight,” he says, and I side-eye him.
“How did you get my schedule?”
“It’s the same every week,” he points out.
“Saffron wasn’t feeling well,” I tell him, and he frowns.
“What about you?” He asks, reaching over to feel my forehead with the back of his hand.
I get a flashback to my mom doing that to me and I flinch, stepping away from him.
“I’m fine.”
