She ushers Trey into the kitchen, and I drag my feet, following them.
“Would you like something to eat or drink?” she asks Trey. She’s already pulling snacks from the fridge, followed by a glass from the cabinet.
I watch Trey’s gaze track her, realizing it’s already happening. “Sure, that would be great.”
“Good. No one goes hungry around here.”
My throat tightens as I pull out a chair and sit.
My stomach growls so loud I worry I’ll get caught if it doesn’t stop. I tiptoe through the kitchen towards the fridge. Mommy is asleep on the couch, and there is a man I don’t know smoking something next to her; it stinks. Thankfully, I haven’t seen Dad in almost a week.
I slowly open the fridge. I’msohungry. I’ve only eaten part of Kacey’s lunch the last two days. There were more people here than normal. Mommy has a lot of friends. I was scared to come inside because sometimes they are mean to me. I slept in the garage and drank out of the hose in the backyard for the last two nights.
My choices are slim, as they always are. A box of old Chinese takeout—there’s no telling how long it has been here. I push it aside and crack open the pizza box, hopeful; I love pizza. Sometimes Kacey’s mom packs her pizza, and she alwaysshares with me. Kacey has been the only good part about first grade. There is something fuzzy growing on the edges of the two slices left. Frustrated, I shut it and move to the Styrofoam takeout box that wasn’t there a few days ago.Inside aresome fries and half a cheeseburger. It will have to do. I just hope it isn’t bad.I’ve thrown up what I’ve eaten out of this fridge more than once.
I snag the box and close the fridge, sneaking down the hallway toward a bedroom. Kacey has talked about how her mommy painted her room blue and it has horse posters and stuffed animals, but I don’t think I have a room. I know I don’t have stuffed animals. With only my mommy and the man here tonight, I decide to risk sleeping in a bed. It’s starting to get cold out at night and—
“Jessie?”
My head snaps in Trey’s direction. I think he asked me something.
He glances into the kitchen at my gran, who’s occupied setting cookies out onto a plate. “You okay?” His brows draw together, and there is a softness in his eyes.
“Um, yeah. I’m fine. Just tired.” I blink the glassy sheen from my eyes.
He doesn’t buy it, I can tell. But it doesn’t matter, Gran is returning to the table with her cookies, and this isn’t a conversation I willeverhave with him.
In the next half hour, Trey all but has Gran admitting her undying love for him. It’s infuriating how charming he is. Men who look like him should have horrible personalities. It’s not fair to the rest of society.
“No, I swear, I rode an ostrich once,” he tells her.
She cackles, having more fun than I’ve seen her have in years. “Why in the world would you do that?”
He shrugs his shoulders. “They were looking for volunteers, and I said to myself, ‘Self, you ride bulls. How hard can it be?’ Turns out it’s pretty hard . . . and they bite.” He shudders at the memory.
Gran laughs harder, and I can’t stop myself from cracking a smile.
When we finally make our way to the door, Gran pulls Trey in for a hug. I can barely hear her when she whispers, “Watch out for my girl, will you? I worry about her.”
Trey whispers something back I can’t hear.
They pull apart and Gran says, “You’re a good young man.”
“Thanks, Dot.” He smiles.
I freeze. No one calls her that. Not since Gramps passed. I never knew him, but she’s told me tons of stories. Her eyes glass over and she presses her hand to her heart. “No one has called me that since my Edward passed.”
“Oh, I’m sor—”
“Don’t you dare say you’re sorry. You can call me that anytime; reminds me of him.” A soft smile crosses her face.
“Alright, Dot. I’m going to take Jessie home, but I’m sure I’ll see you soon.”
He’s so kind to her. Butterflies fill my stomach, but I stomp them down, crushing them under my metaphorical boot. There will be no butterflies for Trey Bennett.
He opens the truck door for me, and I climb in. When he gets in, he casually says, “You can drive my truck to work tomorrow. Knox can come help me get your car, and I’ll take a look at it. I’m good with vehicles.”
“No, it’s okay. I’ll figure it out.”
