I took myself to bed, trying not to think about what the future might hold.
Because if I did think about it, a certain curly-haired brunette was front and center, with my baby sister right there beside her.
The next morning, I was up at the crack of dawn because my sister was not a quiet person, my mind spinning a thousand miles an hour, with nobody to blame but myself.
Bernice had left an hour ago after banging around the house for an hour. Odin picked her up in his massive, loud-ass truck that woke the dead.
After they left, I counted the planks of wood on the ceiling, wondering if I brought Birdee coffee…
My phone rang, and I glanced down at it, contemplating whether I should answer it or not.
Since the number was local, I decided to answer it, but only because I sometimes had to do stuff for the club when I was a prospect that required me to answer any and all local phone calls.
“Hello?” I asked I sat up in bed then swung my legs over the side and got up.
The chilly air hit me like a slap in the face.
“Is this Creed Daugherty?”
I paused just inside the door to the bathroom before saying, “This is Creed.”
“This is Nicole Wightman with Great Dane’s. I’m sorry to have to make this phone call, but something happened to Birdee Calvert. She’s on the way to the hospital right now.”
My stomach sank. “What happened?”
Eighteen
Or, what if, hear me out: No.
—Text from Birdee to Shade
Birdee
“Why do you think they like getting started so early in the morning?” Charleigh asked.
I wondered the same thing.
When I’d interviewed, one of the interview questions I’d been asked was if I was an early riser.
I’d answered honestly, letting them know that I wasn’t necessarily a morning person, but that didn’t mean that it would stop me from doing my job.
They’d told me after asking that they generally tried to get started working by six-thirty in the morning.
At the time, I’d been so desperate to get a job that I hadn’t thought to question why the time was so early.
Now that I had it, I kind of wanted to know the answer.
“I actually meant to ask Nicole yesterday, but forgot,” I admitted.
“I did, too,” she said as she opened a can of beans and started to eat straight out of the can.
“What are you doing?” I wondered.
“Eating beans?” She shrugged as she scooped up some beans.
“You’re not even going to warm them up?” I asked as the jagged edges of the can lid she left attached came perilously close to her neck as she leaned forward and took a bite.
Who the heck ate beans like that?
