Everett
“There you go.One gallon of Petal Pink room paint.” I smiled down at Sera Davies as I slid the bucket of freshly-mixed paint across the counter to her father. “Can’t wait to hear how it turnsout.”
Sera smiled, showing the giant gap where her front teeth used to be. “I’m going to paint elephants on the wall when it's done,” she said. “Purple ones. Because elephantscan sobe purple if Iwant.”
John Davies rolled his eyes and rubbed his daughter’s head affectionately. “That’s all we hear these days at home.Mr. Maior says elephants can be purple, Mr. Maior says imagine it first and prove itsecond…”
I winced and leaned my elbows on the counter. “Uh.Sorry?”
“No way.” John chuckled. “Given a choice between her painting fantastical elephants on the walls, and her watching videos all day like a zombie? I’ll take the elephants every single time. I’m just hoping you do a unit onWhy vegetables are our friends!Maybe then she’d eatsome.”
I laughed. “You know, that’s not a half bad idea. It’s still-life, but alsodelicious.”
“There you go!” John grabbed the gallon off the counter and lifted it in a salute. “Later,Ev.”
I nodded and sent Sera a wave as she skipped off. “See you tomorrow,Sera!”
“Well, now. Aren’t you Mr. Popularity?” Grandpa Hen came clomping out of the back room, leaning heavily on the cane that he’d finally consented to use only after I’d pointed out that his one-crutch routine looked like a bunch of abortive pole-vault attempts. “Was that JohnDavies?”
I closed my eyes and inhaled, doing Dr. Trainor’s deep breathing techniques. I wasinsidethe bubble, gripping tightly to my patience. All the negative forces wereoutsidethe bubble, and theycouldn’t…
“Hey! Everett!” Grandpa Hen waved his hand literally an inch from my face and my protective bubble popped. “You hearme?”
For the first time, I wondered why the fuck I was imagining a protectivebubble. Bubbles were, like, the least protective things in the universe. Next time, I was going to imagine myself in a panicroom.
“Yes, I hear you,” I said sweetly. “And yes, that was John Davies. As you know, because you’ve clearly been listening to my entire interaction with him from the backroom.”
“Hmph. Only to make sureyou…”
“Do things properly,” he and I finished at the same time. “Yes, I know. I’m going to go tidy the front of the store. To the best of my limitedabilities.”
Grandpafrowned.
I pushed back from the counter and stalked to the front area near the door where I could pretend to organize shelves of lawn bags and giant bins of rakes for a while. The good thing about Grandpa being on that damn cane was that it was impossible for him to sneak up onme.
And yeah, you knew it had been a bad week when you felt a victorious thrill at the fact that yourelderly grandfather with the broken legwouldn't be able to chase youdown.
I started stacking boxes of purple Halloween lights with more force thannecessary.
My mood wasn’t Hen’s fault, of course. If anything, he’d been unexpectedly kind for the past few days. Maybe he felt bad that thegood guyhe'd wanted me to date had turned out to be an asshole. Or maybe he’d gotten cautious after I’d stomped around the apartment Monday, cooking nothing but wholegrain, meatless meals and daring him with my eyes tocomplain.
Hen hadn’t mentioned Si’s name in my presence once since Sunday, and when Diane had innocently made some remark about Si still searching for the missing camper, Hen had thumped his fist on the table and said if Silas Sloane was half the man people claimed he was, he’d have found John Carpenter by now. Diane had looked at me and I’d shrugged, pretending not to know what had triggered my grandfather’stemper.
It would have been kind of cute, if I had any capacity to recognize cuteness anymore. Instead, I was a rage demon in human form, able to see nothing but injustice. Why the hell was O’Leary so goddamn likable, anyway? Why the hell had Silas lied to me in the woods, when he said I was okay? Why the hell was I letting this hurt me, when I knew whatrealhurt felt like, and this wasnothingcompared tothat?
I kicked at a display of leaf-blowers, glad that John Davies was gone.No, it’s fine, parental unit! I am totally setting a good example for yourchildren.
I sighed and thunked my forehead against one of the heavy wooden shelves my great-grandfather — or hell, maybe it washisfather? Who even remembered anymore? —hadbuilt.
It wasn’t logical to be so upset, I knew it. For one thing, I barely knew Si Sloane. And for another, if some tiny rebellious part of my subconscious had been interested in anything beyondattractionwith Si, somebody needed to lobotomize meright fucking now, because I knew better. I wasdonewith thatshit.
I was the new and improved, risk-averse Everett Maior.I was, I was, Iwas.
“Ev?”
I stood up so quickly I nearly whacked my head on the shelf above me. O’Leary, New York, the place where my dignity came to die. “Hey!Yeah?”
Ash Martin watched me with concerned eyes that probably saw way too much. “Youokay?”
