The two men opened the back of the truck and the door rattled all the way up, revealing what few sparse things her in-laws had allowed her to take—some of her clothes, all of Lily’s things, a few items that she could have proved without a shadow of a doubt that she’d bought, if only they’d let her into the house to get her receipts. Everything else her in-laws had withheld, including her wedding ring and the little pieces of jewelry her husband had bought her on birthdays, anniversaries, and holidays.
To be honest, none of that had bothered her half as much as suddenly finding herself homeless had. Thankfully, not only did Aunt Maggie have her back, but she was even allowing Stace and Lily to live in one of her rentals rent-free until she got her feet under her.
“What the hell is this?” Brock said, staring into the back of the mostly empty truck.
Behind them, the driver had fallen silent.
Her stomach roiling with mounting dread, softly Stace said, “It’s my things.”
“Where’s your appliances?” Brock said, the tone of his voice clipped, as if he were now angry with her too.
She wanted to crawl into a hole and just die, she was so embarrassed. “My in-laws kept them.”
“I see the crib. Where’s your bed?”
“M-my in-laws—”
Turning abruptly from the truck, Brock faced her. “There’s no sofa, no chair, not so much as a folding table, or a dresser.”
Her eyes began to burn. “M-my in-laws s-said—”
“They brought a twenty-foot truck to move, what…” He paused, his darkening eyes scanning her meager contents and obviously finding everything she owned lacking. She swallowed hard, shaking, her legs aching to just run. “What’s in here, twenty-some boxes, three bags of clothes and some baby toys?”
Her breath was shaking every bit as badly as the rest of her. “It was what they said I had to use.”
“Maybe it was all they had,” the sheriff said, striving for cheerfulness. “Back this puppy up to her porch, Brock. Bet we can knock this out in less than ten minutes.”
“I can do it myself,” she assured him.
Brock laughed, staring into the back of the truck once more. He stabbed the fingers of both hands through his short, darkhair, and then laughed again. Neither sounded warm, inviting, or even the slightest bit amused.
She bit down hard on the inside of her lip, trying to quell its trembling, but already the sting in her eyes was spilling over, blinding her as the tears rolled hot down her cold cheeks. As the sheriff climbed onto the bumper, grabbing the rolling door’s handle, she quickly swiped her eyes clear, but too late. It was at that moment that Brock turned to look at her, and he saw it.
“I can do it just fine on my own,” she quavered, hating how weak and small and sad she sounded. Hating even more than that anyone, especially him, had caught her crying. Hated the fact that he was staring at her now, his gaze tracking the next tear to fall. She especially hated the weird look now wending through his openly angry expression, until for just a moment, it seemed as if he wasn’t angry at her at all. But of course it was.Of course, it had to be. She was the only one here.
She was the only one who would ever be here, always and forever, all on her own.
Oh God, the tears really were coming now, a flood of them that refused to be blinked back.
“Hey,” Brock said, suddenly as if he wasn’t even mad at all anymore.
She couldn’t bear it.
Dodging his staying hand, she snapped around, slipping once in the mud and almost going down to her knees all over again before she caught her balance. She made a bee-line for the grass, ignoring when he called again, “Hey, Stace!” Using her first name like they were old friends.
Like they were friends at all.
Yeah, she should have known better.
Lily fussed uncertainly as she hurried across the half-weeds-and-grass lawn and jogged up the stairs. She hit the door, sograteful that it wasn’t even locked, and quickly slammed it shut behind her before bursting into tears.
“Muh,” Lily said, patting both sides of her face with baby small hands, while Stace slid down against the door until the old hardwood floor bumped up under her butt, arresting her fall.
She covered her eyes with both hands.
Come on, Stace,Jim’s gentle voice echoed in her head,the world really isn’t this scary. Stop being a baby.
Except, yes, it was. And nobody knew this better than she did.
