S is for Secret Baby
Page 19
How am I going to empty this house out?
How was I supposed to know how to do any of this? I owed the Bensons everything. Not just for taking me in this past week, but for helping me plan the funeral. Helping me pick out burial plots. Helping me with the payment for tombstones. I didn’t know about any of that.
They had made so many phone calls on my behalf, it was sickening.
And I had no idea how I’d ever repay them for it.
Maybe there’s a service I could hire to empty this house for me.
I packed up what I could stand to take. I even stole a few things from my father’s cigar room. Mainly his collection. I didn’t want to smoke them, but I wanted to light them up and smell him again. I took his white-gold lighter and the butane fluid for it. I packed up his smoke-laden robe and stole a few books from my mother’s library that I could stand to look at. Maybe I’d have the service pack up some of these things and put them in storage, at least until I could go through them and figure out what I wanted to keep.
But until then, this was all I could manage to touch.
I closed the front door behind me and gave one last look at my house before heading down the block with Khloe and Mrs. Benson. Once there, I locked myself in their spare room and didn’t come out for the rest of the night.
“Want some cocoa?”
Quinn’s voice woke me from a dead sleep. She stood looking down at me, holding a cup of steaming liquid.
I nodded slowly. “Sure. Yeah.”
I got out of bed and followed her down the hall to the living room, where I sat on the couch.
It was scorching outside. This summer had been the hottest on Connecticut’s record, but I didn’t care. I mindlessly sipped the chocolate drink and gazed out the living room window. I leaned over, staring down the street and getting a glimpse of the corner of my parents’ house.
“Quinn?” I asked.
“Yeah!” she called from the kitchen.
“Is Khlo here?”
“No, she went back to school.”
Quinn sat down on the couch with me, curling up with her hot cocoa. She started sweating, the damn drink was so hot. The television droned on with some sort of commercial. I furrowed my brow as I looked down into my drink.
“Why aren’t you at school right now?” I asked.
“I faked being sick so I could stay home.”
“Ah.”
“Figured you could use the company.”
My heart warmed at her words. “Thanks, kiddo.”
“Uh-huh.”
She laughed along with the TV, and the sound didn’t grate against my ears. I didn’t watch the television, but I did get a kick out of her laughter. Quinn always snorted after she laughed. Like, really laughed. It was honestly cute. And Khloe had the same quirk about her.
Though, it was immensely cuter on Khloe.
“She’s going to miss you.”
Quinn’s voice pierced my haze. “What?”
“Khloe. She’s going to miss you.”
I sighed. “I’m going to miss her, too.”
“Promise to call, right?”
“Oh, yes.”
“And come back to visit?”
“I only have to finish my senior year. Then, I’m free to do as I wish, apparently.”
“Good. Because we’re all going to miss you.”
I wrapped my arm around her. “Really? You’re gonna miss me, huh?”
She shrugged my arm off. “Not that much. But maybe a little bit.”
“Oh, oh, yeah. Just a little bit.”
She rolled her eyes. “Goofball.”
I grinned. “Love ya, too, Q.”
My eyes fell back out the window, and I sighed. I dreamed about what life might be like without Khloe only a few houses up from me. No more hanging out on the couch during rainy Saturdays watching old game shows. No more late-night back-porch conversations when her parents pissed her off. No more volleyball games to cheer relentlessly at just so I could embarrass her as much as possible.
No more seeing her in the bleachers at my basketball games.
A knock came at the door, and Quinn shot up. She raced for the door, sloshing her hot cocoa everywhere. I sighed as I set mine down. I figured whoever was at the door was probably there for me. I smoothed my hands over my shirt and tried to prepare myself. But when Quinn opened the door, I really wasn’t prepared at all.
An older woman with white streaks in her dark brown hair stood there. She looked at me and nodded, then beckoned with her head to come on. I almost didn’t recognize her. But I did recognize the beauty mark on her chin. Those thin fish lips my father had. And she had my father’s eyes.
“Aunt Maybelle?” I asked.
“Come on. We have to head out,” she said.
I blinked. “But I’m not—I’m not ready. I’m not fully packed.”
“I know. I went to the house. I’ll help you with the rest. But we have to get your stuff to the airport. Our flight leaves at six.”
“So soon?”
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About the Author
Annie J. Rose is a contemporary romance author who loves to bring all your fantasies to life. She writes steamy romance with a happily ever after.
Born and raised in New Zealand, she often spends most of her time writing stories by her balcony. Pharmacist by day, smut-writer at night.
For any questions or concerns please reach out at: contact@anniejrose.com
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