Oh god. Something must have happened with Alan. Has he been badmouthing me to the press? Much to his disappointment, we never made a sex tape, and I’ve never been in the habit of takingorsending nudes to anyone, so there can’t be a leak of any sort of compromising material. I wonder if the paparazzi tracked me to Honeywell…
“Hi.”
The small voice makes me jolt to a stop. I look around and then down, where my gaze settles on a little boy sitting on a low bench outside a building I don’t recognize. I glance around once more, realizing I walked past the lot where my car is parked.
When the boy grins brightly at me, I remember my manners and say hi in return. His smile and eyes are strangely familiar. Upon closer inspection, I realize he’s the child I saw with Liam in the café the other day. “You’re Liam’s son, right?”
He scrunches up his face, tilting his head to the side. “No, Liam is my uncle.”
His uncle. “Ohh.” I draw out the word, giving myself a moment to process this new tidbit of information and the strange sense of relief that comes with it. “I’m Joss. I’m renting a house on Cherry Lane, and your uncle came by on my first day in town to check something for me.”
He bobs his head. “I know. I saw you the other day at Sweet Escapes and Uncle Liam told me and my mom who you were after you left. I wouldn’t have said hi otherwise, ’cause I’m not supposed to talk to strangers. I’m Rex.”
He says all this in a breezy, matter-of-fact tone that makes me want to laugh. “It’s nice to meet you, Rex. And it’s definitely a good thing not to talk to strangers.”
He bobs his head again and goes back to what he was doing before, which is…counting money? My eyes narrow on the blue and purple bills in his hand. He fans them out, his brows drawing together in concentration and his mouth working silently as he attempts to count. After a moment, he tilts his head up and catches me staring. “I didn’t steal this, just so you know.”
“I didn’t think you did,” I say quickly. “That’s just…a lot of money for a kid like you.”Who’s alone on the street with no adult supervision…
“It’s for the community center,” he says, jerking a thumb over his shoulder toward the building behind him. “I swept the floor at the café, sorted the recycling at the bookshop, and then helped Mr. Patterson put out the fruit at the grocery store.”
“So you earned all that money and you’re giving it to the community center?”
“Yep,” he says happily. “I donate all the money I make. Plus people always give me extra ’cause they know I give it to the center.” My expression must show my bewilderment because he adds, “They’re talking about shutting it down. There’s not enough money to keep it going, and some big company wants to buy it and turn it into a fancy market with a bunch of hipster-type places, and that’s not what Honeywell is about.”
I nearly choke on the laughter that bubbles up my throat. This kid can’t be more than eight. The way he recites all the information about the center makes me think he’s heard the adults in his life talking about this fairly often.
“Uncle Liam says the community center is the heart of Honeywell,” he continues. “He spent a lot of time there when he was growing up and so did my mom. Now I do too. The whole town does. All our town events are there, plus it’s where people go if they need help.”
“Sounds amazing,” I say. “I wish I’d had a place like that growing up.”
He nods slowly, his face solemn. “You can come to some of the events while you’re here. There’s always something happening, especially around the holidays.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I tell him. “Can anyone make a donation to the center?” When he says yes, I dig in my purse for my wallet. He watches me with eyes the same rich brown color as Liam’s. His dark, thick hair is just like his uncle’s too. His eyes go round when I pull out several twenty-dollar bills and hand them over.
“For real?” he says.
“For real. I admire how much you care about the center. I hope the town is able to keep it open.”
“Me too. Thanks for this. You’re really cool.” He hops up and skips toward the building, disappearing inside. He returns before I even have a chance to turn around and head for the parking lot where my car is. He smiles at me as he plops back down on the bench.
I cast a glance around. Rex is clearly intelligent and independent, but he’s young to be on his own, even in a small, safe town like Honeywell. There must be someone inside the center for it to be unlocked, but there’s no one else out here, and it’s going to be dark soon. “Is someone coming for you?” I ask, trying to sound casual.
“Yep, my mom. She should be here soon. If she’s not, I’ll call Uncle Liam and he’ll pick me up. Or Uncle Nathan. Or Aunt Mae.”
“Mind if I wait with you? Maybe you could tell me more about the community center and help me figure out which events I should attend.”
“Sure!” He pats the space beside him enthusiastically. I cringe as I lower myself onto the cold iron bench. Rex chatters away, telling me about the various activities at the center and the clubs that meet there. He lists off at least a dozen upcoming holiday-themed events, including a tree lighting next weekend.
I smile as I watch his animated face. I don’t have much experience with kids; I never babysat in my teens, and none of my close friends have children. My encounters have been limited to the times I’ve played a mom or a doting aunt in movies. Most of the kids have been great, although fame has already gone to a few of their heads if the ridiculous demands they make are any indication. I became pen pals with a particularly sweet little girl who played my daughter a few years ago. Thinking of her reminds me I haven’t written to her in awhile; I bet she’d love a postcard from Honeywell Hollow.
The sound of heels click-clacking down the sidewalk draws my attention to a young woman heading our way. Her heeled boots are as impractical as mine are, yet she walks in them with confidence.
“All right, I’m here! Sorry I’m late.” She stops near the bench, her focus completely on Rex. He ignores her for a moment while he finishes the story he’s telling me, and her attention shifts to me. The other day when I saw her in the café, it was only for a moment and she was across the room. Up close, she looks different than I first thought; younger by at least a decade, with dark under-eye circles that stand out in stark contrast to her pale skin. Her mouth is set in a hard line as she looks at me with narrowed eyes.
“This is Joss,” Rex tells his mother. “She was keeping me company while I waited. She gave me money to donate to the center, so I was telling her about all the stuff that’s coming up for Christmas.”
If possible, her eyes narrow further as Rex speaks. Silence stretches for a long moment. I’m about to say hello when her eyes go wide with recognition.Crap. Liam did say his sister was a big fan of the From the Heart Network.
