He drops the bottle in surprise. “What?”
I fold my arms across my chest. “I have an in-law suite in the backyard that rarely gets used. It has a bed and a kitchenette. A full bathroom too, so you’d have your own space. Plus, it’s only five minutes from your work.”
His face turns red. From rage or embarrassment, I can’t be sure. It’s a long time before he speaks. “I can’t afford that.”
I shake my head. “I’m not asking for anything.”
Vince reaches for the bottle again, but doesn’t open it, turning it over in his hands like he’s at a complete loss for words. “Why?”
“Why what? Why would I offer it to you?”
He nods.
“Because it’s the right thing to do? Do I need a reason?”Has he forgotten I witnessed him nearly break his neck on the stairs?“Like I said, the suite barely gets used. My daughter will occasionally have slumber parties in there with her friends, but that’s about it. Oh, I guess that is one hard rule you’d need to agree to. No going to the main house when Georgie is there, unless I’m home. At least until we know you.”
Vince relaxes. “That’s reasonable.”
“You’re agreeing then? You’ll stay with me?”
Vince pulls one foot up by the hem of his pants and gently peels his sock off. After uncapping the bottle, he squirts some of the lotion onto his heel. A pungent menthol scent fills the air, but it’s like he has to build himself up to touch his feet, grimacing at the first contact.
“How soon could I come?”
I shrug. “Tonight, if you want.”
He pauses, once again stunned.
“I’m serious. I’ll help you pack what you need for a few days, and we can come back later for more.”
When he doesn’t reply, I relax my stance. “Truthfully, I’d rather you come tonight so I don’t have to worry about you on the stairs again. I can still drive you to get your car tomorrow. There’s plenty of room for you to park at my place.”
Uncertainty flashes across Vince’s face. “I’ll still feel like I owe you something.”
“Then have dinner with me a few times a week. That’s all I ask.” I realize a little too late how that must sound, so I scramble to add, “What I mean is… my house is too quiet these days. My daughter is rarely home, and even when she is, she’s in her room. Typical teenager, you know. Off in her own little world. I’m just not used to it, so I’d like some company, is all.”
“No wife?”
I bite back a laugh. “No. I’m divorced.”
Vince looks like he wants to ask more, but changes his mind. Slowly, he draws in a long breath and nods. “Okay. Fine. Thank you.”
It’s a reluctant yes, but a yes nonetheless.
“Great. Where’s a bag? I’ll help you pack.”
5
VINCE
Fletcher turns down a narrow side street lined with a dozen oak trees. Their branches arch overhead like a tunnel, creating an eerie illusion in the dark.
It makes me shudder.
A dozen modern homes line each side of the road, their windows glowing from within. Most of them have some kind of Halloween yard decor.
“This is me,” Fletcher says, pulling into the house on the end. A ten-foot skeleton stands in the center of the front lawn, arms outstretched and holding a rope like a leash attached to a large skeleton dog. Two raven skeletons rest on the porch railing, wrapped in orange and white lights. Four pumpkins line either side of the stairs leading to the door.
The house is simple yet elegant. The kind of place that makes you want to kick your boots off and stay awhile.
