If I Could Stay

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If I Could Stay Page 5

by Annette K. Larsen


  I’d have to trust Jack.

  4

  AT FIVE TWENTY, he pounded on my door again. I tried to focus on being grateful instead of afraid. Thus far, he’d been nothing but nice, despite his unfortunate occupation. I checked through the peephole. He was dressed down, no longer in his uniform. He looked like the guy who had rescued me from hypothermia, and unfortunately, I really liked that guy.

  Too bad I hated the cop.

  I mentally slapped myself and opened the door. He stepped inside, letting his eyebrows jump as he took in my new hair color. “Why the change?”

  He probably knew exactly why I had changed it, but if he was going to play dumb, then so could I. I shrugged. “I like changing things up now and then.”

  One side of his mouth and one eyebrow lifted in doubt. “Sure you do.”

  I ignored the jibe and stepped into my polka-dot rain boots before grabbing my purse. Then I took a breath of courage and turned to him. “Where to?”

  He gave me a once-over. He wasn’t checking me out, he was just assessing the situation, but it still made me squirm. “I was thinking we could hit a thrift store and get you some new duds.”

  I smiled in spite of myself. “Duds?”

  “Clothes. Outfits. You know, duds.”

  I knew what he meant. It was just funny to hear him say it. “Okay, but I don’t have money, remember?”

  He brushed that aside. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got some credit down there.”

  I wasn’t sure what that meant. Maybe it was a perk of being a cop, or just a small town trading system. Either way, it didn’t matter.

  I put the do-not-disturb sign on my door and double-checked that it shut all the way before continuing down the hall. Jack walked with his hands in his pockets, like he had all the time in the world. I walked slightly behind him, making it easier for me to see a potential attack. Not that I thought he’d attack me; it was just habit.

  The walk out to his truck was silent and awkward. I huddled in the seat and wondered how long the air would take to heat up.

  “We’ll have to make sure we get you a coat.”

  “Good idea.”

  He drove down Grand Avenue then jumped on the 36.

  I tried not to freak out. “Um, we seem to be leaving town.”

  “Yeah, sorry. We don’t have a thrift store in town.” He gave me a toothy grin that made him look like a cartoon character. “We have to head to the Goodwill in St. Joe.”

  I relaxed and laughed a little. “This town is ridiculously small.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He smiled like he expected me to be upset by the ma’am, but having spent the last nearly two years in Louisiana, it didn’t even faze me.

  We lapsed into silence and it crossed my mind that he could be taking me to the police down where my car had burned out, but I comforted myself with the assurance that we were going west, not south.

  I stared out the window, trying not to let my paranoia get the best of me. The cold gray air reminded me of Seattle. That was the first town I had run to. After escaping my father and his men, I’d made my way on foot to the park where I had stashed a backpack, and then I’d taken a taxi to the nearest train station. I had used cash to take a train from New York to Seattle, Washington. My ID said I was Emily Chandler, eighteen years old. I found a small apartment with a roommate, and a job at a carwash. I was just another teenager, with my bottle-blonde hair in a ponytail and a cart of cleaning supplies at my disposal. Detail work was my specialty.

  Though I had intended to be quiet and let myself fade into the background, the weightlessness of freedom made me almost bubbly. I was able to interact with customers like a normal teenager. No one cared if I was poised. No one wanted to pump me for information about my father because no one gave me a second glance.

  That weightlessness had lasted only three months. It was the honeymoon phase of my escape, before reality set in. My boss, Eric, was big and energetic and ran his teenage crew of car washers like a high school coach. He was our friend, but he’d set us in line if need be. I walked into the back room at the end of my shift in early December, ready to gather my stuff and head back to my apartment to watch a movie. I gave Eric a cheerful wave, but instead of returning it, he stared at me.

  My feet stuck to the floor. “What?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “Sorry. You just look a whole lot like some rich kid that went missing back east.” He held up his smart phone. “I was just reading the article.”

  The death grip that I had on my scarf hurt my hands, but I think I managed to keep a fairly calm face. “Oh yeah?” I squeaked out, already planning my exit. “I guess we all have a doppelganger, right?” I turned to the door. “See you tomorrow,” I hollered over my shoulder.

  I had gone home and found the story on the internet. My dad was the picture-perfect distraught parent, worried sick about his little girl. It claimed that a missing persons investigation had been instigated only a couple days after I had left, but that now my father felt he needed to widen his search. No doubt the detectives on the case were all his guys.

  I’d pounded my fists on the desk, then cleared the search history, burned my Emily ID, gathered my stuff, and walked out, leaving only a scribbled note about a death in the family to explain my sudden departure. I’d parked my car three blocks from the train station then bundled up for the short walk.

  Jack broke the silence with an awkward throat clearing. “So,” he began. “I have a neighbor.”

  “Most people do.”

  He tried not to smile, but I could tell my snark amused him.

  “Her name is Adeline. She’s older. She should be in assisted living, but the idea of going to ‘the home’ is terrifying.”

  “Okay…” I assumed he was going somewhere with this.

  “Her kids hire people to go to her house and help. A cook, a cleaning lady, a nurse. But what she really wants is someone to help her go through her things and organize and decorate and make her house pretty.”

  “Like you said,” I stated as I put one polka-dotted rain boot up in the air. “It’s the little things.”

  He smothered a smile. “Yes, it is. And I happen to be friends with her daughter, Tracy. I stopped to speak with her and her mother this afternoon. Tracy owns a little boutique in town. I mentioned your predicament and asked if she had any job openings. Instead, they were both pretty insistent that I bring you by to meet them. If they both like you, they’ll offer you room and board in exchange for helping Miss Adeline with whatever she needs you to do.”

  I squinted, my skepticism outweighing the hope that threatened to take over. “This neighbor is going to take in a random stranger, house me and feed me for nothing but organizational help?” What kind of crazy, naive, trusting people lived in this town?

  “She’s fairly particular, so I don’t think it will be easy work.”

  “I don’t mind particular people.”

  “Then do you want to meet her?” he asked in a strangely tentative way. Like he thought I might reject his offering.

  “Of course I do.” No way was I kicking this gift horse in the mouth. Especially not with my awesome boots. “But…I’m a little surprised you’re okay with it.” I could be a violent criminal for all he knew.

  He gave a shrug but remained silent.

  “Are you okay with it?”

  “I’ll be honest, I have my reservations. It’s one thing for me to trust you on instinct, but it’s another thing to ask someone else to trust you, which is why I didn’t. But Tracy has a mind of her own, and frankly, so does Miss Adeline. I shared my concerns and they told me to hush up and bring you to meet them.”

  “I don’t suppose it would make you feel any better to say I’m not a violent criminal? Since that’s what a violent criminal would say.”

  “Just remember I’ve got my eye on you.” He narrowed one eye at me dramatically.

  “Understood.” And I did understand. He was saying it in a jesting way, but I knew he was
dead serious.

  “Okay then. We can go see her this evening, after we’ve got you outfitted.”

  The drive took forty-five minutes or so. St. Joseph was definitely bigger than Cameron, but still not what I would call big. We stopped at a drive-through to grab some dinner before braving the store.

  We walked into Goodwill and I started to worry about what exactly he expected me to do. Was he wanting me to buy just a few things? A bunch? “So how exactly do you have ‘credit’ here? It’s not like this is your town.”

  He slid a fifty-dollar bill from his wallet and held it out to me with two fingers. My face fell in dismay and I crossed my arms, refusing to take the money. He waved it a little. “Here,” he urged. “Just get whatever you can with this.”

  I stepped back. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got enough to get a few things.” I started walking away, annoyed that he was treating me like I couldn’t take care of myself. Even though—technically—I did need the help, it still chafed. Being self-sufficient and independent was one thing that I did well. Even under extraordinary circumstances. I hated that I was dependent now, especially when Officer Trent was the one helping me.

  “I’ll let you pay me back once you have a job,” he called after me.

  I stopped. I really could use the help, and if he would let me pay him back. . .

  I turned back and snatched the bill out of his hand. “Fine. I’ll be quick.”

  “I’ll wait by the changing rooms.”

  My face transformed into my best are-you-a-nutcase expression. “Why?”

  “So that I can offer my expert opinion when you’re trying things on.”

  “Yeah…that’s not gonna happen.”

  “Come on, don’t you want to pretend like you’re in one of those romantic comedies and do a costume change montage?” He held up an invisible camera and made a clicking noise.

  My eyes bugged out. I didn’t know whether to laugh at his oddness or roll my eyes. “I am so not doing a fashion show for you. Go somewhere else, you creeper. I’ll find you when I’m done.” I shook my head, walking away.

  “Fine. I know a dismissal when I hear one.”

  “Good. Get lost,” I called over my shoulder.

  It wasn’t until I’d perused an entire aisle of clothing that I realized I’d been on the verge of flirting with Jack.

  That was a bizarre thought. And a really dangerous one. Attraction would cloud my judgment, and right now it was imperative that I be on my game.

  I shook off my nerves and focused on the task at hand. If he really could get me a job and a place to stay, then he wouldn’t have any more reason to come around. We could go our separate ways (or as separate as we could be in a town that size, with me working for his neighbor) and I could focus on getting enough money together to get out of here.

  A coat, gloves, and hat were easy to find. Shoes were harder. Pants and shirts were even more annoying to shop for here than at regular stores because everything seemed to fit weird. I ended up with a lot of t-shirts. Keep it simple. I wasn’t going for glamour. And thank the good Lord, they even had new packages of undies. I had been dreading asking Jack to stop somewhere for the express purpose of buying myself panties.

  I checked out, feeling like I was making off like a bandit. I’d done well, and most of my items had cost only a dollar or two, thanks to the green tag special they were running. Taking my bag from the clerk, I went in search of Jack, whom I found browsing old electronics.

  “Thinking of watching some VHS tapes?” I asked by way of greeting.

  “Naw, I’m good. You get what you need?”

  “Yup.”

  “Let’s head out, then.”

  I put on my new-old coat, ignoring the slightly creepy feeling of wearing someone else’s clothing, and we left the store.

  We were humming along the highway when he broached a new subject. “I can’t place your accent,” he said nonchalantly.

  My eyes rolled before landing on him. “I think you know that’s by design.” It had been hard to get the New York out of my voice, but over the years I’d been able to adopt a very neutral American accent.

  “Come on. Throw me a bone. Give me general areas at least.”

  “I’ve lived north, south, east and west.”

  It was his turn to roll his eyes. “Ever lived out of the country?”

  “No.”

  “Ever wanted to?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where would you live?”

  “Greece.” It had always been Greece. Ever since Renee and I had lain in bed with her tablet between us, flicking through pictures of white and blue buildings overlooking the Mediterranean. “If I ever get out of here, I’m going to Greece,” she had declared boldly. “I’ll live in a little hut and shop at a local market.” She’d looked at me with such longing and vulnerability when she asked, “Would you come with me?”

  And without hesitation, I had said yes. I would have gone with her anywhere, which was why it had hurt so much when she’d said goodbye and told me I couldn’t go with her.

  Maybe it wasn’t smart to answer Jack honestly, but I had put my dreams of Greece on hold for so long that I never thought of it as a realistic possibility anymore.

  Maybe I should. Maybe I should take the chance and get out of the country altogether.

  “Why Greece?” he asked.

  I shrugged, unwilling to give him the real answer. “I picked it as a kid and have held on to the idea of it ever since.” I chewed the side of my thumb for a moment. “What about you? Where would you go?”

  “I’d love to see Thailand, though I don’t know if I’d want to live there.”

  Thailand was beautiful. I’d gone with my father when I was fourteen. He’d had business to attend to. I didn’t care at the time what “business” meant, but I would guess it had to do with smuggling antiquities or art. It could have been blood diamonds for all I knew.

  I hadn’t wanted to know. Honestly, I wished I still didn’t know. Stupid, complicated, criminal daddy issues.

  5

  WHEN JACK AND I got back into town, he drove to a neighborhood and parked in front of a mint-green, two-story house with lilac-colored shutters. Adeline’s house, I presumed.

  Jack knocked on the door and it was opened by a woman in her forties who Jack introduced as Tracy, Adeline’s daughter.

  “Please, come in,” Tracy said as she stepped aside, allowing us into the entryway.

  I tried to smile politely (make a good first impression), but I was side-tracked by the reindeer statue that stood to the side of the entry. Its antlers came to my shoulder, and upon further inspection, I realized it was dressed as a ballerina. Not like someone had put clothes on the statue, but the actual statue was a reindeer in a ballet outfit. Four lovely pink pointe shoes on its hooves and everything.

  I pulled my eyes away and found Tracy gazing at me with a look of defeat. “Don’t even get me started,” she said, then turned and led the way farther into the house.

  Jack put a hand on my back and leaned down to murmur in my ear. “Tracy isn’t a big fan of the reindeer.”

  I choked on a laugh, excited to meet Adeline.

  I entered the living room and was immediately distracted by the decor. A flower-bedecked swing hung from her ceiling with a stuffed monkey wearing a fairy costume perched on it. Her kitchen was painted in pink and white vertical stripes. It looked like a sweet shop with big, beautiful candy jars sitting on top of the cabinets filled with all different kinds of fake candy and cakes.

  I turned my attention to the silver-haired woman, who sat like a queen in a comfy recliner. She was soft and round, wearing a bright yellow dress, and her face lit up when Jack approached her in greeting. He leaned over to give her a hug then pulled back.

  Adeline fixed her attention on me but addressed Jack. “Who have you brought to meet me, Jack?”

  “This is Celeste.”

  “The stray you found on the side of the road?” she asked with a bl
untness that I couldn’t help but appreciate.

  I raised my hand to shoulder level. “Guilty.”

  She waved me toward here. “Come here. Let’s have a proper introduction.”

  I scooted up next to her chair and offered my hand, feeling awkward and unworthy. She took my hand and leaned forward, her eyes narrowed as she studied me, and I wondered if she was going to declare me a liar and a thief and toss me out.

  “Tell me the truth, now,” she said and my stomach clenched. But then she fixed just one eye on me and her mouth curved up. “Officer Trent has gotten under your skin, hasn’t he?”

  I felt the blood drain from my face.

  “Gracious, sit down before you fall over.” She tugged on my hand and I sank down onto the ottoman. “I expected you to get all rosy with embarrassment, not go white as a sheet.”

  Not even I knew why I’d reacted that way. Probably because I was attracted to Jack, and I knew exactly how dangerous it was.

  “You all right?” she asked.

  I focused on her soft, wrinkled face and nodded. “Yeah. Sorry.”

  She fixed Jack with an accusing stare. “What have you done to this poor creature to make her so terrified of you?”

  I jumped in before Jack could tell Adeline anything I didn’t want her to know. “It’s not him. I’m just jumpy.”

  Her eyes filled with sympathy. “I hear things have been a little rough for you lately.”

  I shrugged. “It’s been okay. Luckily, Jack has a hero complex.”

  Adeline threw her head back and laughed, her whole body bouncing with humor. “You’d better watch out for this one, Jack. She’s got you pegged already.”

  We settled into a friendly chat, wherein she told me the names of her six kids and all their spouses, a little bit about her chemical engineer husband who had passed on some years ago, and even about her long-dead dog, Pookie.

 

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