The old guy living next door ambled closer, holding a small flashlight. “Oh, you’ve met Shadow.”
“That her name?”
“I don’t think anyone knows. She’s fixed and someone tends to put a flea collar on her every now and then. She’s everyone’s cat,” the old man spoke slowly. Then he looked at Quinn more carefully. “You Robert MacGregor’s boy?”
Quinn grunted. “If we’re using a very loose definition, then yes.”
“Ezekiel Oliveira.” They shook hands.
“Quinn MacGregor.”
“I was the janitor at the high school when the MacGregor boys were students there. Your father was an asshole, but that Ian seemed like a fair boy.”
Quinn snorted. “In a way, that’s a valid assessment to this day.”
Ezekiel huffed. “Well, I’m done with my walk and smoke. I do this most nights, helps me get to sleep later.” He turned to go, but gestured at the cat. “Just kick her out if she gets in and you don’t want her there. She eats most things, but prefers fancy cat food and fish. You can leave a window open for her if you want. I’ll keep an eye out for the closest trailers anyway.”
“Why?” If his dad had been an asshole to Ezekiel, why would he look out for Quinn’s place.
“You didn’t kick her. That’s what the last asshole living here did once. I bought some meth from a few trailers over, hid it in the kitchen when he’d left the door open. Called the sheriff on him.” Ezekiel spoke over his shoulder as he made his way back to his trailer. “The law isn’t the most reliable in this town, but Sheriff Henderson took him away. Haven’t seen the guy since.” Then, just as he got out of Quinn’s view, he called, “Good night!”
Quinn had a feeling buying fancy cat food was in his near future. Right after lunch at the diner. He hadn’t expected any of this shit, and on the other hand, it was Spruce Creek. He let Shadow in and closed the door behind them, wondering if, just for now, canned tuna would do.
Chapter 4
“You cooked?” Uncle Will asked suspiciously the next day when he turned up to find Aaron reheating leftover mac and cheese.
“Charlie did.” Aaron balanced precariously on his crutches as he took the plate out of the microwave. He’d burned himself more than once in the kitchen since having to work with his crutches. Not that he’d ever been much of a cook before. “Want some?”
“I already ate at the diner.”
“You didn’t tell me Charlie was working there.” Aaron set his plate down carefully on the table, then had to go back for a fork. It was painstaking how long everything took, but he appreciated that Uncle Will didn’t get in his way trying to help him. He just stood back and let Aaron get there in the end.
“I figured if I did, you’d find some reason to avoid the place,” Uncle Will said. He grabbed a soda from the refrigerator. “Didn’t want you starving yourself just to avoid an awkward conversation or two. Then it turned out you were never going to get your ass out of the house anyway, so keeping it from you was kind of pointless.”
“I’m managing.”
“You’re almost out of groceries,” Uncle Will said. “And I ain’t bringing you anymore.”
Aaron sat, leaning his crutches against the table, and dug his fork into his mac and cheese. “So you’re going to let me starve to death?”
Uncle Will raised his eyebrows. “You’ve got some beers in your fridge that you didn’t have yesterday. Seems to me that you’ve been getting around just fine when you need to.”
Aaron rolled his eyes.
Uncle Will snapped the soda can open, and took a seat across the small table from Aaron. “It’s called tough love, kid. Suck it up.”
“It’s called manipulation.”
Uncle Will grinned. “Po-tay-to, po-tah-to.”
Aaron couldn’t stop his quick smile. “Fine, I’ll go get some groceries today.”
“And start on the wallpaper,” Uncle Will said, raising his eyebrows.
“Okay.” With a belly full of mac and cheese, the prospect didn’t seem as daunting as yesterday. “I’ll start on the wallpaper.”
Uncle Will reached across the small table to clap him on the arm. “Good. Better than just sitting here and wallowing. You’re twenty-eight, kid, not eighty.”
