“You feeling okay there, Mary Sunshine?” Jean tried to put her shrimpy garlic hand on Libby’s forehead.
“What if we didn’t go back?” Libby stepped out of range. “We could cut our losses and disappear right now.”
“Except my restaurant,” Keoki reminded her.
“And we’ll be living under a bridge by next week.” Jean rubbed her fingers together. “Since we have no cash monies.”
These were valid points. Not to mention the part about never seeing Jefferson again. “You’re right.”
“Of course we are. No walking away from your dream job,” Jean said.
Keoki slung an arm around Libby’s shoulders, squeezing her to his side. “That’s kind of exciting, Libs! Right?”
She shrugged. It was certainly one possible outcome.
“You know what else?” Jean said with sudden gravity, grabbing Libby’s hand.
Libby leaned closer, eager for words of comfort. Normally Jean expressed affection through sarcasm, interspersed with threats of violence against anyone who did Libby wrong, making these occasional glimpses of sentiment that much more precious.
Rising onto her tiptoes, Jean whispered, “I call shotgun.” And then she was off, laughing as she sprinted toward the truck.
“It’s okay, Libs. It’ll be your turn one of these days,” Keoki said.
But when? And for what?
Chapter 16
lovelillibetHave you ever taken a night just for yourself? Instead of wasting the precious hours of darkness, make them your own. While the rest of the world is sleeping, awaken to the company of your own thoughts. Who are you, by moonlight? There’s only one way to find out.
Love, Lillibet
Image: A waxing moon casts a shimmering trail on a dark ocean.
#nightmoves #awakenyoursenses #partyofone
The stairs creaked, alerting Jefferson that someone else was awake. He knew it wasn’t Hildy, because she was on or off like a toddler, going full speed until she hit the wall and crashed—as she’d done around eight, worn out from her earlier spat. The footsteps were too light to be her uncle and too slow for Lillibet’s husband, who tended to scamper.
Which left the lady of the house.
Jefferson pushed back his chair. He didn’t want Lillibet to find him sitting in her dark kitchen, staring at the shadow play of branches in the moonlight. Although she might understand his need for quiet, having made the choice not to come home until the rest of them had gone up to their rooms.
The sounds of descent stopped. After a beat of silence, he heard another footfall, fainter this time. The movements werealmost furtive, which didn’t make sense for someone walking through their own house, even in the dark. Jefferson looked for something heavy, settling on a shallow wooden dish. Slowly, he eased himself upright and around the table, sticking close to the wall.
Soft steps moved closer. A circle of light crept across the floor, coming to a stop a few feet from his hiding place. As he listened, a door slid open, followed by the crinkle of plastic.
Huh.
Sure enough, there was a tearing sound, then a dry rustle. Jefferson stepped into the open, not surprised to see Lillibet with her arm buried in a bag of snack food.
She jumped into the air, throwing the bag at his face with a strangled, “Hiyah!”
He tried to catch it, instead managing to eject half the contents on its way to the floor.
Libby clutched her chest. “You scared the crap out of me.”
“Sorry.” He set down the wooden platter, belatedly disarming himself.
“No, I’m sorry.” She stepped toward him, plucking a cracker from the inside of his collar. “I shouldn’t have attacked you.”
