But I decided I was going to have to start doing some other kind of harder cardio because, holy shit, I’d die doing one of the ten-mile trips I wanted to take—if I stayed and could.
After the shit show that yesterday had been at work, I wasn’t totally sure if things were going to work out… but I still hoped they did.
No one really missed me in Florida. They loved me, but they had gotten used to me living away for so long that I knew it had to be weird that I’d come back. My aunt and uncle had gotten used to living home alone, even though they’d accepted me with open arms and nurtured me back to a healed heart. Or at least a mostly healed one. My cousins all had their own lives too.
And my friends cared about me, but they had three thousand things going on as well.
“How’d you get burned?” he asked after another moment of silence.
“There was a couple there who had gotten lightheaded right at the base, and I hung out with them until they felt good enough to hike back to their car,” I explained.
The boy didn’t say anything, but I could see his fingertips tapping along the border of his Nintendo as I finished cutting through the leaf. “Sorry.” He was focused on his console. “About Dad getting pissed. I should’ve told him, but I know he would’ve said no.”
“It’s okay.” I mean, it wasn’t, but his dad already bitched him out, I was sure. Something could have happened to him if he’d rented the place out to the wrong person. But you know, I wasn’t his mom, and his sneakiness got me this place I liked, so I’d be a hypocrite to give him a hard time. “Did you get grounded for a long time?”
His “yeah” was so disappointed, I felt bad.
“I’m sorry.”
“He deposited the money into my savings account.” One slim finger picked at a hole in his sweatpants. “Can’t use it anytime soon though.”
I winced. “Hopefully your parents will change their mind.”
He made a face aimed at his console that told me he wasn’t holding his breath.
Poor guy. “I don’t want to upset your dad any more; I’ll let you get back to your game. Thank you for letting me get some aloe. Yell if you need something. I have the windows open.”
He glanced at me then and nodded, watching me head back down the deck and across the gravel toward the garage apartment.
I thought about Kaden and his new girlfriend for a split second.
Then I shrugged that loser off.
I had better things to think about. Starting with this sunburn and ending with just about anything else.
* * *
A week went by in the blink of an eye.
I worked—crashed and burned half the time was more like it—and slowly started to get to know Clara again. Her niece, Jackie, came in and helped a few days a week;, she was nice but she kind of just stuck to herself and listened to Clara and me when we had time between customers, and I worried she didn’t like me even though I’d brought her a Frappuccino and tried to share my snacks with her. I didn’t think she was shy from the way she spoke to customers, but I was still working on her.
Clara, though, was a good boss and worked harder than most people, and as much as I knew I was terrible at my job, I kept trying because she needed the help. No one new had come in to apply for a job while I was there either, so I was well aware that didn’t help.
I started jumping rope a little longer every day.
When I was “home” and wasn’t in the middle of reading or watching something I’d downloaded onto my tablet, I spied on my neighbors. Sometimes Amos caught me and waved, but most of the time, I got away with it. I hoped.
What I’d learned was that his dad, who I’d confirmed was Mr. Rhodes because I’d used binoculars and read the name embroidered on his uniform shirt, was gone all the time. Literally. His car was missing by the time I left, and he usually wasn’t back until seven most days. The teenager, Amos, didn’t leave the house ever—I only saw him on the deck—and I guessed that was because he’d been grounded.
And in the little over a week that I’d been at the garage apartment, not once had I seen any other car show up.
It really was just Mr. Rhodes and his son, I was pretty sure. The time I’d read the older man’s name, I might have also peeked at his hand to see there wasn’t a wedding ring there.
Speaking of Amos, I was considering him my second friend in town even though we only waved at each other and he’d said about ten words to me since the day he’d saved me from my sunburn with his offer. Even though I talked a lot at work, asking a lot of questions to try and figure out what customers wanted because I didn’t get half the shit that came out of their mouths—why some people chose to use water purifying tablets instead of buying a bottle with a built-in filter was still beyond me—I hadn’t really made friends yet.
I was a little lonely. All the customers I’d dealt with had been too nice to give me a hard time for not being able to answer their questions, but I dreaded the day I pissed off the wrong person and smiling at them and trying to make a joke wouldn’t work like it usually did to get me out of trouble.
No one ever told you how hard it was to make friends as an adult. But it was hard. Real hard.
I was working on it. Quality over quantity.
Nori, Yuki’s sister and my friend too, texted. Yuki called. My cousins reached out and asked when I was coming back. (Never.)
Things were… coming along.
I had hope.
And I was in the middle of getting dressed, making a mental plan to go to the grocery store this evening, when my phone pinged with an incoming email. I stopped to take a peek at the screen.
The email was from a K.D. Jones.
I shook my head and bit the inside of my cheek.
There was no subject. I shouldn’t waste my time, but… I was weak. I clicked on the message and prepared myself.
It was short and simple though.
Roro,
I know you’re mad but call me back.
-K
Kaden knew I was mad?
Me? Mad?
Hahahahahahahaha
I would set his Rolls-Royce on fire if I had the chance and sleep just fine.
And I was thinking of a dozen other things I could do to him without feeling guilty as I got into my car a few minutes later and tried to turn it on.
There was no click. Not a slight turn. Nothing.
It was karma. It was karma, and I knew it, for thinking ugly things. At least that’s what Yuki would say… if it was anyone other than Kaden I was wishing shitty things upon.
Squeezing my eyes closed, I wrapped my fingers around the wheel and tried to shake it with a “Oh, fuck youuuuuu.” Then I tried to shake it again. “Fuck!”
I was so busy yelling at the steering wheel that I barely heard the knock on my window.
Mr. Rhodes stood there, eyebrows slightly up.
Yeah, he’d heard me. He’d heard it all. At least I’d had the windows up. I hadn’t been paying attention and didn’t notice he was still home.
Peeling my fingers off the stranglehold they had on the steering wheel, I swallowed my frustration and opened the door slowly, giving him time to back up. He took a single big step, giving me a view of a red cooler in one hand and a travel coffee mug in the other. He was even better looking up close and personal in daylight, I realized.
I’d thought his jaw and brow bones had been a masterpiece when I’d creeped on him before, but now, just feet away, they still were, but the gentle cleft in his chin got added to the list.
I’d bet if he was in a game warden calendar, it would sell out every year.
“…didn’t work?” he asked.
I blinked and tried to figure out what he was talking about since I’d zoned out. I had no idea. “What?” I asked, trying to focus.
“Telling your car to fuck itself didn’t make it turn on?” he asked in that same level, hard voice from a week ago, both of his thick eyebrows still up.
Was he… joking? I bli
nked. “No, she doesn’t like being bullied,” I told him, deadpan.
One eyebrow went up a little higher.
I smiled.
He didn’t smile, but he did take a step back. “Pop the hood,” Mr. Rhodes said, flicking his fingers toward himself. “I don’t have all day.”
Oh. I reached inside and opened it as he set his cooler down and his coffee, or whatever was in there, on top of it. He went straight for ducking under the hood as I circled around to stand beside him.
Like I knew what I was looking at.
“How old’s your battery?” he asked as he tinkered with something and pulled it out. It was a dipstick. For the oil. There was some on it. I was pretty good at getting it changed on time. I figured it couldn’t be that.
“Um, I don’t know? Four years?” It might be more like five; it was the original. The Joneses had given me so much crap for not trading my car in every year like they did. Fortunately for me though, Mrs. Jones hadn’t wanted me driving around a car under their last name in case I was pulled over, so I’d bought it on my own. It was and had always been all mine.
He nodded, attention focused on my engine, then took another step back. “Your terminals are corroded and need a clean. I’ll give you a jump and see if that’ll get you going until you get it fixed.”
Corroded? I leaned in, coming in to step beside him, just inches away, and peeked inside. “Is it that white stuff?”
There was a pause and then, “Yes.”
I peeked at him. He had a really nice voice… when he wasn’t snapping out words like a whip.
Up this close… I guess he had to be six-three. Six-four. Maybe a little taller.
Why was this guy not married? Where was Amos’s mom? Why was I so nosey?
“Okay, I’ll get it cleaned,” I said brightly, focusing before he got irritated with me for checking him out. I could just do it from upstairs tomorrow.
Mr. Rhodes didn’t say another word before he headed toward his truck. In no time at all, he pulled it up alongside my car and then farted around in the back cab before coming back with jumper cables. I stood there and watched as he hooked them up to my battery and then opened his own hood and did the same.
If I was expecting him to stand there and talk to me, I would’ve been disappointed. Mr. Rhodes went and sat in his truck… but I was pretty sure he was looking at me through the windshield.
I smiled.
He either pretended not to see me or decided just not to smile back.
I stood there, looking at my car’s engine like I recognized some of it when I damn well did not. After a minute, I leaned in and snapped a picture of the cables hooked up to my battery, just in case I ever had to do it. I should get an emergency kit while I was at it. I still needed to get bear spray.
What could only have been a couple minutes later, he hung his head out of the window. “Try her now.”
I nodded and dodged inside, making a quick plead for her to not do this shit to me, and turned the key.
She squealed to life, and I fist pumped the air.
Mr. Rhodes slid out of his truck and quickly undid the cables from our batteries, going back around his truck in the time it took me to close my hood, and depositing his cables somewhere in his back seat. I reached up to try and close his hood but couldn’t reach. He slid me a side look as he lifted a hand and slammed it shut.
I grinned up at him. His khaki-colored work shirt hugged the broad line of his shoulders and tapered into the grayish-blue pants it was tucked into. That hair of his was something else too, that silver with the brown…. He really was way too attractive. “Thank you so much.”
He grunted. Then he crouched down, making me freeze because his face went right by my shoulder and side, but popped back up with his cooler and coffee mug. He was out of there, back around his truck, and then jumping in. He hesitated.
Mr. Rhodes nodded at me and then reversed so fast I was impressed.
He’d helped.
And hadn’t kicked me out even if he’d looked like he would rather be just about anywhere else.
Something was something.
And I had to get to work.
Chapter 4
The next three days of my life went by in the blink of an eye.
All right, a blink if you had pink eye.
I woke up, and each of the days, I tried to jump rope, had to stop every ten seconds then start again as I accepted I was nowhere near the top tier of physical conditioning above sea level. Then I had breakfast, showered, and went to work.
Work was... parts of it were good. The parts where I got to talk to Clara and catch up with her were my favorite. Rekindling a friendship with her was like breathing. It was effortless. She was just as funny and warm as I had hoped.
We didn’t get to talk much. By the time I arrived every morning, she was hectic in trying to have everything organized before opening. I helped her as much as I could, and we squeezed in questions as she made explanations about stocking and what the store carried, which was everything imaginable and everything unimaginable.
Had I gotten my boobs done? No, they were the same C-cup I’d had since they’d stopped growing at fifteen, held up by what was basically a Wonderbra.
Did I bleach my teeth? No, I used straws all the time and brushed my teeth three times a day.
Had I ever gotten Botox done because she was thinking about it but wasn’t sure? No, but I knew a lot of people who had and wasn’t sure I would do it. I also told her she didn’t need it.
I would have asked her things too, but she’d squeezed in so many details that first day I’d walked in, that there weren’t too many other things I felt comfortable asking about so soon.
In the years since we’d last seen each other, she had gone to college in northern Colorado for nursing, moved to Arizona with her boyfriend, gotten married, and then he’d passed away too soon afterward. Since then, she’d moved back to help take care of her ill dad and run the family business, and—this was where she’d been vague and I’d bet it was because her niece had been there—shortly after that, Jackie had moved in. Her older brother got a job as a long-distance truck driver and needed somewhere safe and constant for her to stay.
Having worked for people that I cared about and loved before, I already understood how to listen and follow instructions without letting them get to me or affect my pride. But Clara was great. Literally great.
We’d made plans to hang out away from work sometime soon, but she had to get someone to stay with her dad because he couldn’t be left alone for long periods, and the nurses and aides who usually stayed with him during the day were already working too many hours with her being at the shop literally all the time since she didn’t have reliable help.
I remembered her dad and wanted to see him; she said that he would love to see me too. She’d told him all about how I was back, and that just made me want to help her that much more, even if I was pretty sure I was only one step above her previous shitty employees. My only saving grace was literally that, even though I was useless and constantly having to ask her questions eighty times a day, the customers were all sweet and patient. One or two were a little too friendly, but I was good—and unfortunately used to—ignoring certain comments.
When Clara wasn’t running around the shop talking to customers, we talked about the store. When she asked about my life, I told her bits and pieces, tiny fragments that didn’t exactly piece together properly and left plot holes the size of Alaska, but luckily the store was busy and she got distracted constantly. She hadn’t grilled me yet on what happened with Kaden, but I had a feeling that she had an idea since I was avoiding the topic.
That part of my new start in Pagosa was great. The Clara part of it. The hope I felt in my heart. The possibility of new connections.
But actually working at the store….
I’d come into my new job being realistic. I had no idea what the hell I was doing working at an outdoor outfitter. For the first ten years after I’d m
oved away from Colorado, the closest I got to doing outdoor activities were the times I’d gotten on my uncle’s boat. Over the last ten, I’d gone to a beach a few times, but we’d stayed at upscale resorts that served pretty and ridiculously expensive drinks.
My mom would have disowned me, now that I thought about it.
I had never felt more like an imposter than I did working at the shop though.
Today, someone had asked me about a wade trip, and I’d literally stared at them blankly for so long, trying to figure out what they were asking about, that they had told me not to worry about it.
Fishing. They’d been talking about a fishing trip, Clara had explained to me with a pat on the back.
An hour later, someone asked for recommendations on tent hammocks. There were different kinds of tent hammocks?
I’d had to run to ask Clara to help them even though she was busy with another customer.
What kind of fish are there around here? Little ones? I had no idea.
Which hikes could a sixty-five-year-old woman handle? Short ones maybe?
Was it too late in the season to go rafting? How should I know?
I had never felt so useless and dumb in my life. It was so bad that Clara had finally told me to work the register and run to the back if Jackie—a fifteen-year-old who was clearly more capable than me at everything—asked me to get anything from the storeroom.
And that was what I was doing, standing at the register, ready to check someone—anyone—out as Jackie handled some fishing rod rentals and Clara helped a family with some camping gear purchases—I’d been eavesdropping a ton and considering bringing a notebook with me to work to take notes I could go over at home—when my phone buzzed in my pocket. I took it out.
The notification wasn’t for a phone call or a text but for an email.
Then my hackles rose.
Because it wasn’t just some spam email or a newsletter from a company.
The name of the sender was K.D. Jones.
The man who had called me his wife in private and around loved ones.
The man who had promised to really marry me one day when his career was just right and a relationship wouldn’t hurt his wittle fanbase. “You understand, don’t you, beautiful?” he’d reasoned time after time.
All Rhodes Lead Here Page 6