Page 82 of When We Were Young

I hear a sound that my brain must have instinctively known is not one of the normal ones of our new home. There are creaks in the floorboards when we walk and small pinging sounds when the air conditioner turns on, but the sound was neither of those. I know I was asleep when it happened, but, for some reason, I think it was a clatter, like something was falling.

I sit stock still as I listen for it again. That’s when I swear I hear a voice.

I peel back my blanket and climb out of bed. The first thing I do is check on Simon, who’s safely asleep in his bed. Then, I grab my keys and lock the door, so he’s locked in.

I’ve got my phone with me in case I need to call 911, and I turn on the flashlight function so I can see at least a little.

Dang it, I realize I forgot a weapon. Not that I actually own a weapon, but don’t normal people grab a butcher knife or something like that when they think there might be an intruder? Well, normal people would probably call the police, I remind myself.

When I get to the landing, Simon’s bat and ball are still there from when we played across the street yesterday. I grab the bat.

I unlock the door that leads into the bakery. It didn’t used to have a lock on it, but I’m paranoid these days, so I had that put in.

Once I step inside, I pause and listen. Hearing nothing right now, I rise on my tiptoes and place my keys on the top of the refrigerator. If Landon or any intruder is in here, I don’t want them to have easy access to Simon.

I don’t hear anything in the kitchen, but just as I am about to go back upstairs, I definitely hear rustling from the other side.

Damn it.

I creep through the kitchen and into the bakery area. Maybe it’s an animal.

My heart races. I would actually totally freak out if I came face-to-face with an animal that didn’t belong there. With my luck, it would be a skunk or a rabid raccoon. Wait, there aren’t black bears in Aron Falls, are there? I don’t think there are, but we’re right near the national park, so maybe it’s possible.

Oh, God.

I prowl around the café area and see nothing, but I realize that I can see better because a slight hint of light shines from under the bottom of the door that separates this area from the event space.

Now my heart not only races, but it pounds, as well.

Somebody is definitely in here.

I should’ve called 911 at this point, I realize, but I don’t want to be the person who does that inappropriately, especially when I may need them for real one day.

Still, I turn off my phone’s flashlight and dial the nine and the first one so that I’m ready to go if I have to. But when I approach the door, I realize that it wasn’t people talking I heard.

What I heard was someone singing very quietly. To boy band music. And I swear it’s Holden’s voice I’m hearing, but it’s two in the morning, so what would he be doing here?

I slide the door open enough to peek through, and sure enough, Holden Aron is in my shop at two in the morning on a Wednesday. Singing. Barely above a whisper but singing. There’s a little bit of hip swinging as well.

He has a paintbrush in his hand and one of those small handheld buckets you carry to dip the brush into in the other.

I glance around at the walls, and I’m stunned when I realize they’re all freshly painted. He’s working on trim areas right now.

I watch him for a minute, and step into the area when I’m ready to get his attention, but he turns, presumably to fill his paint bucket, and catches sight of me. He yelps, and his hands flail. The bucket of paint—fortunately not filled—and his paintbrush go flying.

He aggressively removes his earbuds. “Jesus, Lizette! Give a man some warning!”

“I’m sorry. Was I supposed to let the intruder I was looking for know I was onto him? Plus, you were clearly into your jam there, so I didn’t want to interrupt.” I can’t help but smirk at him.

“I’m not an intruder.”

“Not technically, because I know you, but you are here at my place at two in the morning, painting. What are you doing?”

He shrugs. “Couldn’t sleep. Painting relaxes me, so I figured I would come over and get started on this place.”

“Get started? You’ve got the painting almost done.”

I look around the room again. He did a great job.