Theo pulled back slightly, and guilt settled in Ethan’s chest. He hadn’t meant to bark like that. Theo didn’t deserve it. Ethan knew he was only trying to help. “I’m sorry, man. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”
“You know, some of us care what happens,” Theo said. “Not just to the orchard or the girls, but to you.”
Ethan looked down at his shoes, then up at the car. He imagined someone else behind the wheel—someone with more time, more money, less history—and something in his chest pulled tight.
“I’m just weighing my options,” he said finally.
“Well,” Theo said, his voice softer now, with less edge, “you’ve still got people, Ethan. You’re not alone, no matter how much you try to act like it.”
Ethan nodded once. It was all he could manage without something breaking loose.
Lucky’s office door squeaked open. Somewhere in the street a horn beeped a friendly hello. Someone drove by with music pumping. The world kept going.
And Ethan stood there, caught between holding it all together and letting go.
Chapter 11
Honey
The walls of the small bedroom at the end of the hall were what could only be described as bubblegum pink. Honey blinked against the brightness, thinking the color should violate some housing code.
She hadn’t planned to accept Ethan’s offer to stay in his youngest daughter’s room, but in the end, it had been the most logical solution. Staying onsite eliminated her commute, which meant she could dive into the audit first thing each morning. It also gave her a front-row seat to observe the daily workings of the orchard and maybe help them put systems in place that would stop the financial bleeding. She didn’t need to like the pink walls. She just needed an outlet and a door that closed.
Marlene supervised from the doorway while Melly, whose room this was, methodically packed her “essentials” into an overstuffed laundry basket she planned to drag down the hall to her sister’s room where she’d be staying for the duration of the audit. By essentials, it turned out, she meant her favorite stuffies. It must be a loose definition of “favorite” as Honey lost count somewhere around twenty-six.
Honey had wanted to get right to work, but unfortunately her computer needed to charge. So here she was, stuck perched on the child-size beanbag chair and questioning if she’d get out of it with her dignity intact while she watched as Melly tried to shove a third stuffed alpaca into her laundry basket.
“Thank you for letting me use your bedroom,” Honey said.
“It used to be haunted, you know,” Brooke said, as she flounced in and plopped on the edge of the twin bed, her expression entirely too pleased.
“Used to be?” Honey asked, raising an eyebrow. “Then it sounds like I’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“Doesn’t it scare you?” Brooke pressed.
“Why should I be scared of a formerly haunted room?” Honey asked, shrugging. “Sounds like the ghost got bored and moved on.”
“But what if it comes back,” Brooke asked, leaning forward, “and eats your guts?”
“Oh, hush. Go find your dad,” Marlene said, and ruffled Brooke’s hair. “I have to get going soon, so I can’t watch you ruffians all night.”
Brooke tromped off down the hall, disappointment that she couldn’t scare Honey again evident.
“I really can see ghosts,” Melly said, jutting her chin out like she expected Honey to disagree and was ready to fight her on it.
“An invaluable skill, I suppose.”
Melly considered that for a second, then nodded once and shimmied herself under her bed, presumably to grab another treasured animal. When she emerged, it was with aheadless animal in a tutu, which she laid atop the pile on the laundry basket and began tugging toward the bedroom door.
“Even if he was here, Hanky would never eat your guts,” she added matter-of-factly, reaching into the laundry basket to smooth one of the alpaca’s ears. “He’s a vegetarian.”
Honey bit back a smile and pushed herself to standing. “Good to know. I’ll sleep easier.”
Marlene stooped to lift the laundry basket with a grunt and nodded toward the hallway. “Let’s go settle you in, kid.”
The room emptied out, and Honey was alone.
She stood there for a moment. It was strange how a room full of pink and plush could feel so still the second it was empty of its people. Like all the color got flatter. Just paint on drywall.
