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I let my eyelids fall shut. “Frederick.”
“That’s not the name he gave if it was him, but I appreciate the heads-up.” Andra probably had plenty of experience dealing with hostile or disgruntled family members. “He was pushy, but I told him I wasn’t allowed to talk about our residents, and if he was looking for someone, he needed to go through the appropriate contacts.”
All Frederick knew about Mom was that she was in the Springville facility, and I was footing much of the bill. Hindsight being twenty-twenty, I could see how he’d ratcheted up his “help” after he’d learned that fact about me. I had a large financial obligation he could exploit.
“Thank you, Andra.”
“I figured you’d want to know.” She paused for a breath. “In my experience, men who are that persistent don’t quit easily.”
“Unfortunately, that’s my experience too.”
“I suspected as much. Keep your head down. I’ve reminded my staff that some of our patients come from complicated situations, and adherence to our confidentiality policies is critical.”
Relief helped tame my panic. The anger wouldn’t leave. Frederick had no reason to track me down. He should’ve let me empty my accounts and move on. But then I might have enough to hire a lawyer.
One day.
Until then, my troubles couldn’t spill over to Mom, and definitely not to her care team or other employees. I chewed on the corner of my lip as I wrapped up my conversation. All I wanted was a stable home and security for me and the people I loved. Why was that so damn hard?
When the call was done, I tucked the phone into the back pocket of my linen shorts. With my first day of pay, I had borrowed Thelma’s car and went shopping in a nearby larger town that was still incredibly small, topping off the gas tank when I returned.
Grayson was in the middle of the yard, going through the brief warm-up I’d taught him. He did toe touches and jumped up like a frog. I went into the middle of the lawn to join him.
As happened yesterday and the two days before, as soon as I turned on the music, the kids from the houses next to this one piled out.
A little girl around Grayson’s age draped herself over the chain-link fence. She had curly, dark pigtails and a small space between her front teeth. Kali. “Can I come over again?”
“If it’s okay with your grandma.” The first day I watched the kids, she’d copied the spinal twists and seated balances we did as part of our warm-up on her side of the fence. When Grayson and Ivy learned pencil turns, she was watching from the bushes on the far side of her yard. The next day, she’d begged her grandma, and I suspected her grandma was glad to let her burn off energy with someone else.
The girl tilted her head back to yell, “Grandma! Can I dance with Tova?”
Somehow, all the neighbors knew my name by the second day. Kali’s grandma, Sima, reminded me of a younger Thelma. She’d come out to double-check with me that it was okay if Kali jumped in. Kali had told me she lived in Crocus Valley with her grandparents, her mom was in jail, and her dad drank himself into the ground—all her words, which I’d guess came from her grandma. I probably sounded the same when I was her age. Only my dad had preferred white powder over a family.
I didn’t hear the response, but Kali hopped the fence and went to stand by Grayson. He gave her a shy smile and shifted to the side. Ivy abandoned her coloring books on the deck and lined up next to her. Grayson and Ivy had talked excitedly about having a friend over after Kali joined us last time.
Two more kids peered above the fence behind us—twins who were staying with their aunt and uncle for the summer while their parents had baby number three.
“Tova!” the boy twin, Bridger, called. His sister was Britta. “Can we come over too?”
“Ask permission first.”
For the next two hours, I ran through line dance routines with five kids. The twelve-year-old from the house on the other side of the yard came out once, rolled her eyes, and stormed back inside. Catherine was in full preteen mode, but for the last two days, she’d given one longing look before disappearing inside.
I’d get her out here soon enough.
“Okay, okay,” I called. “Time to cool down. Let’s start with some roll-downs.”
“Can we come tomorrow too?” Britta asked as she hung down in a front bend, swishing her hands over the grass.
I was in the full bend of the roll-down, my ass facing the door. These daily dance parties were becoming my lifeline. I was reminded of the days when dancing was fun and exciting and all my hopes and dreams weren’t hanging on a paycheck attached to a performance. I let my head hang and closed my eyes. My hair was knotted on the top of my head, and I folded so far, the strands nearly touched the grass. “As long as you ask permission first. In fact, I should probably ask permission too.” We’d been quiet enough, but I wasn’t the one renting the house.
“It’s fine,” came a deep voice from behind me.
I rose and twisted. Cody was on the deck, a glass of water in his hand, his fingertips white, like he was fighting an invisible force to hang on to it. His dark gaze pierced mine, and that chiseled jaw was set in a harder granite expression than usual, showing nothing. Shit. Were we too loud? Then he scanned the yard, the kids, the toys on the ground, and the mass of juice boxes and granola bars and fruit snacks I had to grab a garbage bag for. Nothing in his features gave away what he was thinking.
“You sure it’s okay?” I asked. “We get kind of loud.” We didn’t. But we could.
“I’m sure.”
