by Sarah Hegger
Blake looked up before they reached him and gaped. He stood and dragged the cap off his head. His dark blond hair stood up in all directions. “Blythe?” He blinked at Will. “Wheeler?”
“Will,” Blythe said. “He prefers to be called Will.”
“Will.” Blake nodded. “You’re a lot taller than when I last saw you.”
The other men at his table followed the conversation avidly.
The small scar on his top lip was the same, but a newer scar higher on his cheekbone was new. His face was much thinner and his skin dull. “What are you doing here, Blake?”
“Thursday is roast night,” one of the men at his table said. “Always come here for the meat on Thursday nights.”
Blake gave her a helpless little shrug as if that answered everything.
She didn’t understand why he was there and not at the house. “You’re not staying at the house?”
“With Bo and Becker? Barron’s there too most of the time now.” Blake shook his head. “I’d prefer the streets and honestly, I’d be safer.”
Barron used to bully Blake. She had forgotten that. And whatever Barron did, Bo and Becker soon jumped right on. “I hear Brett might be staying there too.”
“He doesn’t live there, but he pops in and out.” Blake sniffed. “I went by there yesterday morning.”
“Ah.” That was not the news she wanted to hear. “How long have you been in town?”
“Since yesterday morning,” Blake said. “I’ve been living in Denver for a while.”
“Like this?” She indicated his clothes.
Blake nodded.
They stood there, the silence growing awkward between them.
Will cleared his throat and glanced at her expectantly. He wanted her to invite Blake to their house. It was the sisterly thing to do, but Will was younger than both of them and not nearly as jaded. Will remembered the Blake who had taught him to draw and made up stories for him at bedtime.
Blake may have been less violent than the others, but he’d also done his share of petty thefts and carjacking. The others had often led him into their trouble.
She’d worked so hard to break away from all that, from the Barrows taint. She had refused to let Bo and Becker even into her apartment, only her past fondness for Blake had her even considering it. “They need me in the kitchen.” She pointed as if nobody knew where the kitchen was. “I’ll talk to you after dinner.”
Will dogged her heels and barely waited until she’d cleared the doorway to the kitchen. “We can’t leave him like this, Blythe.”
“I know that.” She really did know that. Her brother was homeless, a brother she actually loved. “I need some time to think.”
Will shook his head at her. “What’s there to think about? He’s our brother, and he needs us.”
But she’d done so much to make something new for her and Kim and Will. Every time Pat decided to drift back into their lives with sob stories and tears of remorse, her mother had let him back in again. Nobody had been more critical of that than Blythe. Yet, here she was contemplating making the same mistake.
Or was she? Blake wasn’t Brett. He wasn’t even Barron.
Damn her head hurt with all of this. Guilt twisted inside her. Blake lived on the streets, and winter was only a few weeks away. With Thanksgiving around the corner, she had been looking forward to celebrating her new version of family with Kim and Will. They would do it right, as well, with the turkey and all the fixings.
And while the three of them celebrated and gave thanks, the best Blake could hope for was a decent meal here.
“Everything okay.” Liz kept her voice low enough to keep it from Kim.
“Fine.” Out of habit, Blythe produced a smile. Then she stopped. She’d heard this wasn’t how female friendships worked. Apparently you went to your female friends to share a burden, voice a worry or ask for advice. “Actually, not fine at all.”
“Kim, baby.” Liz smiled at Kim. “Why don’t you pop over there and see Celia.” She pointed to the far side of the kitchen. “She has some brownies, and I’m sure if you tell her who you are, she’ll find one for you.”
Liz had Kim at brownies, and Blythe helped her off the counter.
“What’s up?” Bella and Liz pressed closer.
“My brother is in there.” She jerked her head toward the dining room. “And it looks like he’s homeless.”
Bella chewed her lip and frowned. “Which one?”
“Blake.”
“Was he the one who stole the football team’s equipment?” Bella asked it with no apparent judgment attached.
“No, that was Barron.”
“The one who beat up Chris Tucker?”
“That was Brett.” Blythe almost laughed. The Barrowses had gone out of their way to earn their stellar reputation. “Blake was in the class below me. He actually graduated. He was the one who liked to draw.”
“Right.” Bella waved her knife. “He was the nice one.”
“He had his moments.”
Liz propped one hip against the prep table. “I sense a but.”
“But.” Talking about her stuff was new to Blythe. “Blake was nice for a Barrows boy. Not nice in the sense of normal people.”
“Normal?” Liz made a rude noise. “Who the hell is normal? Not me, and not even Tinker Bell over there.”
Bella jammed her hands on her hips. “Hey!”
“Did you, or did you not, pine after the same man since first grade?” Liz fixed Bella with a look.
Bella crumpled with a giggle. “Okay, not everyone pines for the same man year after year.”
“I’m the last one with room to talk there.” Blythe only realized she’d spoken aloud when she saw the looks of avid interest Bella and Liz turned her way. “Back to Blake.”
“I’d much rather talk about the other thing.” Liz gave her a wicked grin. “I’m going to start a Ghost Falls dating service in which people who are hankering after each other actually man up and do something about it.”
“You’d make a lot of money with that,” Bella said.
“Or maybe not.” Liz shrugged. “Sometimes the timing on these things has to be right.”
“Or the little black dress sexy enough.” Bella giggled. Then she got serious. “So, you’re worried if you invite Blake to stay with you that he’ll bring Barrows history to your new life?
She took the words right out of Blythe’s mouth. Bella had just nailed it. “Yes. I’m working very hard to make something new here.”
“You know we have the same issue,” Bella said.
Blythe didn’t bother keeping the skepticism off her face.
“Same but opposite.” Bella waggled a carrot at her. “I was always the town good girl, and everybody treated me like that. I could never do anything wrong without incurring so much disappointment.” She jabbed her carrot at Blythe. “Now you are the town bad girl, and everything you do is misjudged. See, same problem.”
“Except Bella came tumbling out of her good girl closet last year,” Liz said. “And now we’re all wondering how the hell we misjudged her so badly.”
Bella chuckled and boosted herself onto the table. “But we’re not talking about me now.”
“You know, having your brother to stay doesn’t have to mean backsliding,” Liz said. “You’re not the same girl you were. You have changed, and you also don’t have to let anyone drag you down.”
“Everybody deserves a second chance.” Bella shrugged. “And some of us need more than two chances.”
“Besides which,” Liz said. “I’m not sure you’re going to be able to live with yourself if you don’t at least try to help him.”
Chapter Sixteen
Blythe woke the next morning to that strange sense of something having happened. Then it hit her. Blake had come home with them the
night before.
There hadn’t been a lot of time for conversation the night before, and she’d set him up on the sofa, but this morning they needed to talk. Based on her discussion with Bella and Liz, she intended to set some ground rules.
Ground rules were good. They let everyone know where they stood. She showered and dressed for work. Her first client was in ninety minutes, and she would drop Kim off on the way.
Blake’s blanket and sheets sat neatly folded beneath his pillow at the end of the sofa. The smell of coffee lured her to the kitchen.
“Morning.” Blake gave her a shy smile. “I was up, and I remembered you liked your coffee before you got to your conversing.”
He had combed wet hair back, and his face was clean shaven. He wore a faded but clean T-Shirt and a tattered pair of jeans that hung on his narrow hips.
“Will gone already?”
“Yup.” Blake stepped out of her way and stood by the island, looking so unsure of himself it almost broke her heart. “He said he works at Diva St. Amor’s on Fridays.”
“He does.” Blythe poured her coffee and added caramel creamer to it. A food sin she kept secret from her clients. “Phi has been good to Will.”
He raised his eyebrow. “Sounds like you know her well.”
“She doesn’t give you any other choice.” Blythe had to chuckle, but this conversation reminded her that she’d gone around to pay back the money Phi had lent Will for his car, and the check was still in her purse. “She’s larger than life.”
“Right.” Blake nodded. He took a breath. “Look, I’m grateful for last night. For the place to sleep but I want you to know that you don’t need to feel obliged.”
He surprised her into silence, and Blythe sipped her coffee.
“I’m used to living rough, and I can do it again. You didn’t do anything that ended in me living on the streets. This isn’t your problem to fix.”
Her Carly impulse kicked hard, and she desperately wanted to believe him. “Will sees it differently. You have him to thank for last night.”
“Will’s still a kid.” Blake shrugged. “He didn’t really see all of what went on when we were kids. You protected him from a lot of it. A lot of Pat, and then Brett.” Blake’s coffee cup shook, and he put it down on the counter. “You more than anyone, don’t owe any of us a damn thing.”
“I know that, Blake.” She needed to be as upfront with him. “But you’re my brother, and it doesn’t feel right to leave you on the streets.”
He scoffed. “I got myself there.”
“How?”
Sighing, he refilled his coffee and then hers. “Turns out that for all my grand talk, I’m not that much different from Pat after all. Alcohol, drugs, I chased the high and screwed everything up in the process.”
“Ah, Blake.” The old sadness filled her. With all of them, they’d been born into a rigged game. It wasn’t self-pity but at times it made her so mad, and at others, it felt like it could break her. “Are you still using?”
“No.” Blake met her gaze. His was clear and lucid. “I’ve been clean and sober for about six months.” He held up his hand. “I know that’s not long but I’m working my program, Blythe. That’s how I heard about the soup kitchen, from the AA meeting the night before at the church.”
The Barrows family should move into St. Peter’s at this rate. “What’s the plan now?”
“Get a job.” Blake shrugged. “I’m not fussy about what I do. Something that will get me on my feet and keep me out of prison. It’s hard to get a job when you’re living rough. Most of the time you can’t find somewhere to wash and change so you don’t look like you’ll rob the register when you’re applying for jobs. Or you don’t have any way to get to where the jobs are offered.”
Blake was saying all the right things, knocking down her misgivings one by one. But she’d seen this pattern all through her childhood. She couldn’t afford to put her total trust in him.
“Okay.” She made her decision. “You can stay here until you can get a place of your own. We can put an extra bed in with Will and you’ll have to sleep with him.”
Blake’s face split into a grin of such obvious relief that she felt like a bitch for not throwing her home open to him sooner. “I can sleep on his floor or something.”
“You need to sort that out with Will. It’s his room, and I just got him clear of having to share.” She kept her tone firm. “You can stay here as long as you’re looking for a job and helping out. This is not a free ride.”
“I wouldn’t want it any other way,” Blake said.
“Drugs are a hard no, as is alcohol in your case,” she said. “If I even so much as suspect you’re using or drinking, I’ll kick you out.”
Blake nodded. “I want to get myself back on track, start drawing again.”
“I did most of this so Kim wouldn’t have to grow up like we did,” she said. “Not just the drinking, but the fights and the violence. The not respecting each other’s stuff and the not respecting other people’s stuff, I won’t have that around Kim.”
Blake stared down at his feet and when he looked up again, his eyes were damp. “You’re a good woman, Blythe Barrows. God knows how you turned out like you did because you sure as shit didn’t get any help from any of the rest of us. Kim is lucky to have you.”
“Well, I don’t know about that.” She might not be good enough, probably was far from it, but she was here for Kim. “Listen, they all know where we live, and have all been around here. Including Brett.”
“Damn.” Blake scrubbed his hands over his face. “What do you think the chances are that Brett has changed?”
Blythe gave him a look. The suggestion didn’t even deserve a response.
* * * *
Blythe had enough time to swing by Phi’s on the way to work. It felt weird leaving Blake alone in her apartment, but she didn’t have any other choice. She’d made her decision when she invited him home with them last night.
Will was hosing down the yard outside the kitchen when she drove up. He stopped, turned off the hose and watched her. “What are you doing here?”
“I’ve got business with Phi.” Will would hate it if he knew she was there to pay off his debt for the car, but the kid deserved a helping hand. He worked every hour he wasn’t trying to get his grades up to scrape enough together for college tuition.
She let Kim out of her car seat.
Kim dashed up to Will. “Hey, Will. I’m going to school.”
“Can you watch her for a minute?” If Blythe had anything to say about it, Will would have his dream come true, and be the first Barrows to go to college.
“Sure I can keep an eye on Kim.” Will gave her a hard stare. “You’ve been here before.”
“Why?” She didn’t want to outright lie.
With an eye roll, Will said, “Because for years she’s called me Wheeler.” Then he did a surprisingly good imitation of Phi. “What an unfortunate name.”
Blythe had to grin. “And now?”
“A couple of weeks back she starts calling me Wilhelm.”
Blythe winced. “It beats Wheeler.”
“Anything beats Wheeler.” Will held his hand out for Kim. “Come on. I’ll show you the horses.”
Blythe tapped on the open top of the kitchen door and peered inside.
Phi sat at the kitchen table in a crimson velour jogging suit. She waved her hands at Blythe. “Mon petite ange, what a glorious surprise. Come in. Come in.”
“Hello.” Blythe obediently kissed Phi on both cheeks and greeted June.
With a sniff, June stalked out the kitchen.
“What an awful old woman.” Phi watched June go with a fond smile. “If I did not love her to distraction, I would fire her scrawny, shriveled ass. Speaking of which.” She gave Blythe a hard stare. “Are you losing weight?” She pressed a han
d to her bosom. “Are you wasting away for love of Eric?”
Maybe her appetite had been a bit off lately, but still. “No.”
“Good.” Phi looked relieved. “Because going into a decline over a man is a colossal waste of time and energy. They don’t even notice for a start.”
“True that.” Blythe settled at the kitchen table opposite Phi. The kitchen looked like an escapee from the middle ages, but it was cozy and welcoming at the same time. “Pippa came by to see me the other day. She said she wanted to get to know me.”
“Oh.” Phi’s penciled eyebrows rose to her hairline. “She did not say anything to me.”
“Really?” With all the drama going on it was hard to tell if Phi was lying or stretching the truth. “Anyway, I am always grateful for a new client, and Pippa and I made a trade. I’ll train her and help her with her baby weight, and she’s going to give me a makeover.”
“Insist on lots of silver and gold.” Phi rapped the table. “With your complexion it will be sublime.”
Blythe wasn’t at all sure about that. Besides which, she’d watched every episode of the show and had never seen Pippa dress anybody in silver and gold. “I’m sure she’ll know what’s right.”
“Indeed.” Phi beamed with pride. “Although I do often tell her to add a touch more pizzazz to her palette.”
Whatever that meant, Blythe prayed Pippa didn’t listen. “Actually I came here because the last time I came, we didn’t get to the reason for my visit.”
“You were quite clearly distraught.” Phi took her hand across the table. “I could not ignore your pain.”
“You were wonderful.” Blythe wished everyone could experience a Phi in their life, just once. The over-the-top was amusing, but it was her warmth and capacity for love that made her truly special. “As you have been wonderful to Will for years.”
“I like that boy,” Phi said. “He reminds me a bit of me at that age.”
This Blythe had to hear. “He does?”
“Oh, yes.” Phi gave her dirty chuckle as if she read Blythe’s mind. “Without the bosoms of course. But I had a dream to sing the opera, and I had this dream while living in the ass end of Nowhereville. I had to make my dream happen. Like Will has to make his dream happen.”
