Page 4

It had been a week since the fire, and Aiden swore the whole of Peach Blossom still smelled like smoke. The times Aiden had gone to the Williams household for dinner, they had been burning cinnamon-scented candles in just about every room, filling the house with the comforting scents of fall.

He had slept on their couch for a couple nights, waiting to hear back about the apartment, hoping he could try to salvage some of his things. But he felt guilty for taking up too much of their space, especially in the mornings with the thrum of their schedules going on around him. Instead, he’d taken to sleeping on a cot in the back storage room of the auto shop, though he didn’t let Vini know that. She would have given him grief about it, and he didn’t want to make her worry. She had enough to be concerned about.

Even after brushing his teeth in the employee bathroom, Aiden swore he could taste smoke when he stepped out of the garage, sharp and bitter on the back of his tongue. The mornings had started to blend together until he wasn’t quite sure what day it was. If not for the cars still coming in on schedule, he might’ve worked on the wrong thing.

It was all so monotonous now: wake up on the cot, brew coffee thick enough to stand a spoon in, drink it from the one chipped mug he kept in the shop, and then work until the muscles in his arms throbbed. He’d grab multiple lunches at a time from T-Bird Diner, in case he needed a bite to hold him over in between dinners with Vini’s family. His days ended falling asleep to the sounds of the metal roof settling against the blowing wind. It was strangely comforting, even if the back room was a little draftier than he liked.

At least it was just him he had to consider. He could only imagine how some of the parents who lived in his building were handling things. He could live the bare-bones lifestyle for now while he planned out his next steps. Still, there were moments when the quiet pressed too heavy and he thought about his apartment—small, maybe, but his. He missed the routine of it. The worn green sweatshirt he’d throw on when the mornings turned chilly and he had to take his trash out before the truck rolled through. He even missed hearing the kids that lived on the floor below him bicker as they fought over video games. Maybe most of all, he missed having a chance to catch a glimpse of Janae. Her warm smiles had never failed to start his days off well, but he had only seen her in passing since that one glorious morning last week, before everything fell apart. Those details were what stung. Not the lost furniture or burned-up TV. The loss of normal that he had fought so hard for.

When the fire had gutted the only apartment complex in town, it hadn’t just taken belongings. It had taken his rhythm and anchor. Aiden had been drifting ever since.

Donation drives had been the town’s heartbeat that week. Every day, folding tables appeared outside the library, Tiffany and Zoey, the town’s librarians, smiling wide as they tried to cheer people up who had just lost it all. There were boxes of canned food, stacks of blankets, and piles of clothes sorted by size filling every available table. Pickup trucks from the neighboring county rolled in with bags of toiletries, bottled water, and bins of shoes.

Aiden volunteered a couple times, mostly to help out between car maintenance appointments. He carried boxes, stacked crates, and lifted whatever needed lifting. He figured it was the least he could do, especially since the town had been pouring generosity on people like him without hesitation.

It was in moments like this that he really saw how special Peach Blossom was and it made him glad that he chose to follow Vini and settle here. Today was no exception, but seeing Janae at the donation drive was a surprise. She was at the clothing table helping someone fill up a paper bag, sleeves rolled to her elbows despite the chill in the air. She looked tired—no, more than tired. She looked ragged around the edges, like she hadn’t been sleeping. He probably looked similar honestly. The cot wasn’t the most comfortable, but it beat sleeping in his truck. Even so, when she looked up and noticed him, her eyes still had that steady light he’d noticed since the first time he’d seen her across the hall. For a moment, the noise of the crowd faded away as he moved toward her.

“Aiden,” she said softly when he reached her.

He wiped his hands on his jeans, suddenly conscious of the grease ground into the fabric. “Janae . . . hey.”

“Are you holding up alright?” she asked, her lips twitching like she wanted to smile but couldn’t. He didn’t blame her. It was tough to find much joy right now, even with the way the town was coming together.

He huffed out a laugh that wasn’t really a laugh. “Trying to. You?”

Her lips pressed together, trembling before she steadied them. “About the same, really.” She gestured around. “Figured I would help out since they temporarily halted classes until next week.”

“Oh, I heard.” The county had thankfully reached out to help students who were affected, lessening some of the strain. “Hopefully it won’t disrupt the kids too much. I know how hard it can be to get back into the swing of school when shit goes wrong in your life.”

Something in his chest tightened. He had offered that last bit of information without thinking. Aiden didn’t like to talk about his past, but something about Janae had him wanting to bridge the gap. It was unnerving. Not even Vini had elicited this type of trust so quickly, and she was his best friend. Thankfully, Janae just nodded.

“I agree. But hopefully with everyone being so helpful, they can get back into things easily.” Her smile didn’t quite meet her eyes, but it was still a welcome sight. He reached for her hand then, resting his on top of hers. It was something he would have done with any of his friends, but it still startled him. Clearly, he needed to get more sleep because his words and his limbs seemed to be acting on their own without his permission.

“If you need anything, you can always reach out to me,” he offered. He didn’t have much, but he couldn’t stop himself from wanting to help. Janae looked down for a moment and Aiden swallowed hard. He went to move, but before he could pull away, she shifted, turning her hand until she could cup his in return. Her palm was warm against his and this time when she smiled, a little of the light reached her eyes.

“Thank you,” Janae replied, squeezing softly. “If you need anything too, please reach out to me.”

It was an opening, and one that Aiden hesitated before taking. “I don’t think I have your number. If you’re comfortable—”

“Oh, here.” Janae drew her hand back and Aiden would have wept at the warmth of her palm being pulled away if not for her reaching for her phone and tapping on the screen. She held it out to him then. “Put your number in, please.”

In shock, Aiden could only nod distractedly as he took her cell and quickly added his number. He handed it back to her and she smiled before tapping on the screen. In his pocket, his own cell phone vibrated. He pulled it out and looked down.

“Now you have mine too,” Janae said. Aiden looked up at her before looking back at the screen. He realized he was making things weird. He could handle this. They were just exchanging contact information because of the tragedy. There were no ulterior motives.

His name being called saved him from having to say anything else and risk making an even bigger fool of himself. He returned Janae’s smile and said a quick goodbye. If the cell in his pocket continued to pull his attention, that was no one’s business but his own.

Two days later, Ms. Graham from the Blue Bell Bed and Breakfast called and Aiden wondered if maybe his luck was about to change. He’d put his name on the list for any locations that opened up, but he knew that there were plenty of others in front of him.

“We’ve got a room for you, sweetheart,” she said, her voice warm and motherly. “As long as you need it. Hot meals are included with the soft bed and clean sheets. You’ll be comfortable here while you figure things out.”

He said yes right then. The thought of a warm bed that wasn’t a cot, a hot shower that lasted longer than five minutes at the garage sink, and the smell of Ms. Graham’s famous pecan muffins in the morning was too tempting to resist. It would mean living on the other side of town, but with how small Peach Blossom was, that wasn’t a terrible thing. They scheduled a time for him to bring his things with him, and he hung up the phone before practically skipping into the garage to finish the oil change he’d started that morning.

When he arrived at the inn, pumpkin lanterns were glowing on the porch, and the dining room windows were fogged, no doubt from whatever good-smelling pastry that was baking inside. Aiden’s stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten a full lunch and instead had nibbled on half a sandwich he’d saved from the night before. His mouth practically watered as he made his way inside, marveling at the pops of orange and red that adorned the corners along with the smiling ghouls and plastic skeletons that looked like they were more likely to dance a jig than scare anyone. With the pale yellow lighting lending to the fall decor, the feeling of warmth that permeated the entryway also washed over him and Aiden felt himself relax. He loved this time of year, especially with how much Peach Blossom’s residents leaned into it with decorations and lively autumn festivals, and he was glad for this bit of normalcy in the wake of his life being uprooted.

Blue Bell Bed and Breakfast was the only inn the town had for miles around. Ms. Josephina Graham and her late husband had opened it when they moved back to Peach Blossom to take care of his parents and even after his death a few years into running it, she had thankfully kept it going. There was a discount motel about thirty minutes down the highway, but it had been the first place to fill up. Aiden was surprised that there was even a room available here.

He turned a corner, excitement at having another home-cooked meal putting some pep in his step, but when he overheard her talking to someone in the dining room, he paused. A woman stood there with a boy clinging to her sweater, his big brown eyes wide with confusion. Aiden vaguely recognized the boy. He was pretty sure he’d seen him get off the bus once or twice at the apartment.