I missed my father.
Chapter 6
“It’s electrifying!” Sliding across the floor, I shelved another book and danced to the beat of a song in my head.
A song fromGrease, to be exact.
Musicals were my weakness, an indulgence I enjoyed when not reading. Even though we didn’t have a TV, those movies and songs had carved permanent grooves in my soul. They were a part of me, so I continued singing “You’re the One That I Want” while filling the last row of the left-hand shelf.
I’d flattened the empty boxes and stacked them against the wall. As promised, Noah had the air fixed today. The man had come early that morning and found the issue. Luckily, it wasn’t anything costly. Now it was so chilly that it put an extra pep in my step.
Although I’d taken many bites out of the pie Mercy had brought yesterday, everything kept well for last night’s dinner. Noah didn’t know about Mercy’s visit until I told him, which meant he wasn’t constantly watching the cameras. He seemed suspicious about the kind gesture until I told him they had lunchleftovers that would go to waste. Noah assumed she was offering it to all the local businesses, so I let him think that.
I’d been singing and dancing for the majority of the day as I organized. The faster I shelved the books, the sooner I could open. Until then, the door remained locked with aClosedsign hanging on the glass.
A horn beeped several times out back.
My heart skipped a beat as I jogged to the front of the store, avoiding eye contact with the cameras. After collecting a small box of books, I carried it toward the back with the assumption that Noah might be watching me on camera. Once at the back of the store, I set the box down and exited through the rear entrance.
“Hey, girly!” Mercy handed me a blue helmet with daisies painted on. “Here. You wear this.”
I let the door with the automatic lock close, then put the helmet on. “I’m wearing a skirt.”
“That’s all right. Just lift and tuck.”
It was my first time riding on the back of a scooter. Some parts of the drive were bumpy, but it put ideas in my head that perhaps asking for another expensive car was unrealistic. All I needed was a scooter or moped to get around.
Mercy eventually pulled down a dirt road. After a short while, she made a left onto a long, paved driveway. I admired the field on the left and the wildness of open land. A young woman with pink hair flew past us on her kick scooter while yelling something.
I sucked in a breath when I laid eyes on the house. The beautiful stones, towering roof, and extended front porch stole my breath away. Pink crepe myrtles added a splash of color on the property, the front lined with spectacular oak trees. Giant ferns hung from the front porch, and pink flowers cascaded from flowerpots near the steps and sidewalk that led to the driveway.
Mercy slowed the bike to a stop. “I need to park her in the garage. Wait here.”
After handing her my helmet, I got off and adjusted my skirt while she slowly rolled toward a monstrous garage on the left. While she waited for the garage door to open, I strode around the side of the house and noticed a garden filled with tomatoes and peppers.
When I saw a brown wolf torpedoing toward me, I froze in my tracks.
He slowed his pace, sniffing the air and frightening me with his piercing gaze.
“Catcher, be nice!” A pretty woman with a blue-jean baseball hat covering her shoulder-length brown hair strutted toward me, her legs lean and brown, her smile as warm as the sun. “Hi. You must be Cecilia.”
I stared apprehensively at the wolf.
“Don’t worry, he’s just saying hello. Aren’t you, Catcher?” She scratched his ear, and the wolf moved his hind leg as if he wanted to scratch it.
The wolf drew closer, and his tail wagged.
“See? He likes you. I’m Robyn. I’m the one running the class. Well, it’s not really a class, but I don’t know what else to call it. A session, maybe? Full disclosure: I don’t have any training or previous experience doing this. It’s an introductory class.”
A lengthy pause followed, one I was supposed to fill with conversation.
“I like your shoes,” I said, staring at her brown lace-up boots.
“Thanks.” She gestured to my worn black boots. “You won’t need those for yoga; we’ll be inside. I need to make myself scarce for a few minutes to finish up something and change. Where’s Mercy?”
I pointed at the garage.
“Make yourself at home. Tell Mercy I’m running late. Come on, Catcher. Quit terrifying our guests.”
