“Doing well. The doctors say just two treatments left,” he says, his relief obvious in his voice.
“Good! Listen, I’m sorry for the short notice, but I have a friend with an issue.” I go on to explain about Faith’s graffiti and the glass on the door. “How soon can you get someone out here to fix both?”
Sam has access to glass cutters, window cleaners, and anything else Faith might need.
“I’ll come over myself to assess the situation and handle what I can. What I can’t, I’ll call in reinforcements to fix. Be there in an hour. Just text me the address.”
“Great. I owe you one. I’ll be here to meet you in an hour,” I repeat for Faith’s benefit, whose eyes open wide.
“How did you do that?” she asks, as I type her address and store name into my phone for Sam.
I don’t find it easy to talk about this, but it’s a step toward building trust, and if I’m going to keep her safe, I need to understand what she’s up against. It’s more than neighborhood kids. That much I know.
I clear my throat and look into her pretty green eyes. “Sam’s daughter was diagnosed with childhood leukemia, and he panicked. He was a freaking mess.”
“I can’t even imagine,” she says, her heart in her voice.
“Well, my sister lived through it when she was young. She had a bone marrow transplant.” The necessity led my two-timing father to reveal to his wife that he needed to have my full siblings tested to see if they were a match. Our lives all blew up at the time.
“Jason, I’m so sorry.” Faith reaches out and holds my hand. “How is she?”
“Fine now. Healthy. A mom.” I grin at that. “But I got her in touch with Sam and his wife, Lisa. She talked them through the process, kept them calm, reassured them when she could.” I shrug. “Sam feels like he owes me.”
I shake my head, and when things come back into focus, I realize Faith has tears in her eyes.
“You have a big heart,” she murmurs.
“It just made sense,” I say, uncomfortable with the praise for something so minor. “Sienna went through the same experience and I knew she could help them. And now Sam will help you. This place will be back to itself in no time.”
“I don’t know how to thank you,” she murmurs.
“I do. Go on a date with me,” I say, back to my pushy, what I hope is charming, self. Am I playing fair? No. Do I care?
Not one bit.
I start to rise before she can answer me, deciding that I’ve effectively backed her into doing something she wants to do anyway.
“Jason—” she says, warning me with her tone she doesn’t like being pushed into a corner.
“I know. It’s not a good idea.” I meet her gaze. “I’m just waiting for you to explain why the hell not?”
“Fine. Sit back down.”
I do as she says and wait patiently, understanding whatever she has to explain is obviously difficult for her.
“My mom passed away without warning a little over a year ago.” Tears fill her eyes and I reach out, clasping her hand in mine.
“I’m sorry.”
She sniffs. “Thank you. Me, too. Anyway, I lived in Iowa, where I grew up. My dad left when I was almost eleven. I have no idea what happened to him, but Mom somehow made it okay. She worked to make ends meet, and I went to a local college, worked in a store in town. It was my brother who was the problem. He acted out after Dad left, and eventually he was doing drugs, selling with a local dealer. Mom threw him out.”
I listen, sad for the little girl who lost her dad and whose brother didn’t man up. “What happened?”
“After Mom died, Colton showed up, demanding his share of the inheritance. There wasn’t much, but Mom had saved money from her parents, and she’d taken out a life insurance policy. Everything went to me.”
“She disinherited him,” I say, and Faith nods.
“She had no choice. He would have spent it all on drugs. Where he lived, who he hung out with… he was strung out all the time…”
