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An anxious expression morphs her face into a lip biting frown.
“It’s alright.” I hug her. “I’m not throwing anything away. I’ll just take it to my house and store it in case you think of something you need,” I lie. Surely, she knows it’s a lie. But it helps her let me take the unwanted things out of her house. Half this job is lying to the client so they can, for the moment, let go.
She reluctantly agrees, and hugs both of us before returning to her bedroom. Suzie and I quickly start hauling the things to Michelle’s porch, so we are that much ahead when Kate arrives.
Chapter Seven?
Kate helps me empty her Bronco. We stack as much as we can along one wall, just in case Kiley gets done early and I need to park her in her place. The trash sacks I place around the side where I’ll move it all to the street on trash pickup day after a week, just in case Michelle has a melt down and wants it all back. I’m not a Nazi when it comes to decluttering another person’s life. At least, I try not to be. Granted it takes a strong will and tough love to help a person clean out their useless collection of stuff.
Stuff - equals - junk. We don’t need junk in our lives!
In a few days, I’ll take the boxes to Goodwill or wherever Deadwood has for donated items. I am exhausted. So is Kate.
“Thank you.” I tell her. “You get some rest.”
She smiles a weary smile and gives me a “yeah, right,” wink. I watch her drive away, aching to know what is wrong. With a sigh, I climb my stairs.
An engine revs next door. Blaze is leaving for work. I look at my watch, Eleven o’clock.
I shake my head. Better him than me. He pulls out and then pulls into my driveway. I am halfway up my stairs. I turn on one of the three landings as I watch this unfold. I gawk at him while he jumps out of his black Jeep Gladiator and jogs to my stairs. “Hey!” He calls quietly.
“Hey.” I answer in the same soft voice. “You on a stake out or something?”
“Yeah, something.” He grins. “Look, I gotta go to work, but I’d like to take you to breakfast in the morning.” He continues in the quiet, sultry voice. I’ve never been aroused by a man’s whisper before, but there’s something about Blaze’s timbre that just… plucks my chords and sets my nervous system to vibrating.
I stare at him. “Why?”
“No reason.” He smiles. “I just want to take you to breakfast.” He tilts his head. “I haven’t properly welcomed you to the neighborhood.”
Was he serious? Or was he up to something. “Um, okay. What time?”
“Whenever you get up and dressed.” He smiles, a knowing look on his face. He has experienced the pre-coffee grumpy-bear me when he tried to mow my yard at five-thirty in the morning. “Well, I know you’ll be wanting to go to bed as soon as you can. How about seven?”
“You sure? You don’t mind getting up that early?”
I laugh. “Not if I’m expecting to get up that early.”
“Alright, seven it is. See you then.”
“Yeah, see ya.” I watch him leave and continue to my front door. A sensation like anticipation trickles through my body. “It’s just breakfast.” I chastise my silly self. “Nothing more.”
I crawl into bed with ridiculous scenarios playing non-stop in my head. I wonder if he knows what’s got Kate so upset? Dare I ask him? It might stir up a whole new can of worms that I don’t want crawling around. Like: Why I’m letting her take me around when she’s not a legit taxi… stuff like that. Yeah, I won’t ask him about Kate, for sure.
I sigh and turn over. Sleep is not my friend. My mind harps on another worry. I need to find a game and bring home about fifty K. Would Big Mike just let me in, unannounced? I flop back over and swing my legs over the side. I text Kate. “Sorry to wake you, could I get a ride to Deadwood Tobacco Company?”
She texts back, “No problem, I wasn’t asleep. Be right there.”
That girl really doesn’t sleep. I shake my head at my thought. “Says the pot to the kettle.”
I toss on dark pants and a demure blouse, a blazer and my boots. She pulls into the drive, and I make my way to her Bronco. “Thanks.” I pant as I climb in and hand her some money. Her blue bangs have faded to a paler, washed out blue.
“No problem.” She says. Her voice is laced with sadness. I wish she’d tell me what is wrong. “I want to go to the tobacco company, but I’m not sure if they are open.”
“They’re open.” She states flatly.
“Okay. Good.”
When we pull along the curb, I search the store front for signs of life. “I don’t know, it looks closed.”
