Cynthia and Thelma return, one carrying a bowl of mashed potatoes, the other with a tray of fresh rolls.
Okay, I may be questioning their sanity, but the dinner smells delicious. I will be gorging myself. Who knows when we’ll have a meal like this again.
Even the boys exchange a look, eyes gleaming. It breaks my heart that I can’t give them meals like this. Food is a luxury, regardless of what those who’ve never gone hungry say.
I scan the table, my mouth watering. “This looks incredible.”
“Smells great too,” Casen pipes in.
Quinn is too busy gazing at the spread with hearts in his eyes to say anything.
“Well, go on then. Dig in.”
The words have barely left Thelma’s mouth when theboys are piling their plates high. She and Cynthia both watch, eyes wide in a mixture of fascination and terror.
“Hey, leave some for the rest of us.” I try to keep my tone light, teasing, but it’s a scolding, nonetheless. Any second, I expect our neighbors to change their minds about us and escort my brothers out of their house for acting like wild animals.
They slow, shooting sheepish looks around the table.
“Don’t worry,” Cynthia says with a nurturing smile aimed in my direction. “There’s plenty more where that came from.”
Once the boys have taken more than their fair share, the ladies nod for me to fill my plate. I’d much prefer they take the lead, but I do as I’m silently instructed, taking a small helping of each.
“Oh, honey, take more than that,” Cynthia says, sympathy in her gaze.
“Are you sure?”
Thelma snorts. “We’re positive.”
I pile a little more onto my plate. I long ago got used to surviving without much food. On the rare occasions where we did have more than normal, I was reprimanded for being gluttonous if I took what my mother deemed as too much. I learned at an early age that it was better to eat less.
When the ladies ask the boys about whether they’re excited for school to start in a month, Quinn shrugs, shoveling a forkful of mashed potatoes into his mouth. “I guess.”
Casen’s response isn’t nearly as tempered. “School sucks.”
I sigh, which triggers both ladies to look my way.
They go on asking question after question, curious about what I do and how I could possibly do it from home.
The dinner is delicious, but I find myself having trouble finishing my plate. I’m too busy fidgeting and trying to figure out the motivation behind all of their questions. And at the end of the night, despite my protests, Cynthia and Thelma send us home with all of the leftovers.
“Those old ladies might be weird,” Casen says as I unlock the front door. “But they sure know how to cook.”
He’s not wrong.
As the boys file into the house, I peer over my shoulder, not at all surprised to see a set of eyes peering through the blinds across the street. I lift my hand, and they fall back into place.
CHAPTER 5
HALLE
Ihaven’t seen the neighbor, Caleb, in days, so I’m more than a little surprised when the porch light next door turns on, illuminating his tidy backyard, and he steps outside.
On instinct, I hunker down, like if I get low enough in the plastic chair, I can hide. I’m suddenly regretting turning on the shitty, flickering porch light. I should have gone with sitting in the dark as the sun set.
He braces his forearms on the railing of his deck, and his shoulders deflate like a several day-old balloon.
Since he hasn’t noticed me, I take him in, cataloging his broad shoulders and his narrow waist. He’s slender, but notlanky, his dark blond hair looking more honey brown beneath the darkening sky.
