“Fine.” I roll my eyes but close them.
Tilly touches my hand, and I feel the air on the cut when she removes the napkins. She wipes it—it stings like hell, but I don’t say anything. Then she pats it dry and finally places the bandage on me.
“You can look now,” Tilly says.
“Thanks.” I wish I didn’t have such a blood phobia—it really doesn’t help when I’m as clumsy as Tilly says.
“I’ll get you some water. You still look pale as a ghost,” Lina says.
“Or maybe a vampire,” Tilly teases quietly. I swear a smile even crosses her lips when she looks at me. For a moment, it’s like the night we met—she doesn’t hate me. She might even like me a bit.
But as soon as Lina is back with the water, Tilly’s expression shifts. Like a light switch, the moment is gone, and Tilly is back to glaring at me.
“Here, I’m done with the AC. I need to get back to work.” Tilly pushes the first aid kit into Lina’s hands and storms off with her toolbox.
“I’m sorry about her. She’s not great with change, and she’s having a hard time grieving,” Lina says softly.
“I didn’t realize she and my aunt were so close.”
“I’ve only lived here a few years, but from what I saw, they were very close. Benny was the mother none of us had. So just give her a little leeway right now. She’s not showing her best side, but she does have one,” Lina says.
I just nod, taking it all in.
A line starts to form, so Lina gets back to work, and I grab my stuff. I hold everything in my right hand, keeping my left hand free and bandaged.
I head back to my place, spotting Tilly heading toward the apple orchard. I’ve been down there a few times to check on things, but it’s not like I really know what the apples should look like. I know they’ll be ready in time for apple-picking season, but that’s about it. Everyone else reassures me Tilly handles their care, and every year they’re delicious.
My phone rings as I get through the front door, but it’s my mother’s special ringtone, so I let it go to voicemail. I learned early on that having a special ringtone for her helped avoid unnecessary conversations. Half the time she just needssomeone to hear her think. But I have enough going on, and I’m not in the mood to answer questions about how selling the place is going.
I can’t tell anyone the truth about this place—even if it slowly kills me. Maybe that’s how Aunt Blake died. She lived with this secret and didn’t even have a plan.
At least I have one outlined—even if Tilly doesn’t like it. It’s not like she’s over here offering anything else.
TEN
Tilly
“You know what else pisses me off? Her schedules. Like, we had a perfectly good schedule in place before she came around.” I sigh. Sipping another gulp of my beer, I look at my friends. Hattie and Lina both look at each other before looking back at me. “What?”
“Nothing,” they say in unison—which means something is definitely up.
“Come on, what?” I sigh, setting down my beer.
“We just think you talk a lot about her, considering how much youhateher,” Hattie says slowly.
“I mean, I’m just complaining.” I frown.
“Are you? Because it seems like you’re mistaking distaste for actually liking her,” Lina says. She tucks her blonde hair behind her ear and waits for me to speak.
“I don’t like her. Are you guys kidding?” I laugh, because they have to be messing with me right now. How could I like someone like that? Especially with all I’ve said.
“We just think when someone bothers you this much it’s because maybe on a deeper level you actually like her,” Lina says and Hattie nods.
“Well, this is great, do you often get together to talk about me?” I scoff and pick up my beer.
“You know that’s not—” Hattie starts, but I cut her off.
“I need another beer.” I finish mine and head for the bar instead of waiting for a bartender.
