Count on Me
Page 28
It left her feeling examined so closely it was impossible to grieve freely.
But Caroline missed the way her mother had brushed and braided her hair. No one had been able to duplicate those elaborate fishtails and the French braids at her temple that had swept back into a ponytail at the back.
She’d had a crown that day. Her mother had done it before Caroline had left for school. Because there’d been a boy. Caroline couldn’t even remember who the boy was at that point. Only that her mother had been rushing to feed Quique and Mindy, and Caroline had asked at the last minute.
But her mother had sucked in a breath and smiled, asking Caroline for details about the boy as she’d brushed and divided her hair, spraying it with water from a purple spray bottle to make it easier to braid.
The last time Caroline had ever seen her mother alive was when Bianca had called out an I love you from the porch as Caroline ran out on her way to catch the bus.
The police had come to their house with their grandfather. Caroline would never forget what his face had looked like. As if he’d crumple at any moment. Caroline had refused to let them take her hair from that braid for three days until her grandmother had done it when Caroline had finally passed out, exhausted from not sleeping.
From asking over and over when her father was coming home.
In truth, she’d never really come home since then either.
She pulled away from the side of the road, wiping her face on her sleeve and heading to Royal’s.
She knocked on his door, and he opened with a smile, his gaze raking over her and pausing at her eyes. “What’s wrong?”
He drew her inside.
“Nothing. I brought pie and sandwiches.” The cat swayed into the room, saw it was her and after a quick wind around her legs, swayed out.
Royal took the bags in her hand.
“Come on through. I was just getting hungry so your timing is perfect. I have coffee, iced tea, beer, root beer, Coke.” He waved at his kitchen, and for whatever reason, him not treating her like a guest made her feel better.
“I got a few sandwiches because I wasn’t sure what you’d want.” She grabbed a mug and poured coffee.
“A few? There are ten sandwiches in here, girl.”
“Well now you have some for tomorrow when you’re out all day.”
He turned and pulled her close. “That’s nice. I get so busy and I put lunch off and then I rush home and eat a bunch of junk because it’s easy and fast.”
She frowned. “You work awfully hard not to treat yourself better. I’m going to be getting on you about that. Just be warned.”
He kissed her and her sorrow flitted away.
“You taste like tears, Caro. What happened today?”
“Ugh. Let’s eat sandwiches and make out instead.”
He barked a laugh. “We can definitely do that, but I want to know what’s wrong too.”
She paused and wondered if she could let go of it enough to tell him. If she could trust him not to push her away, and if he did it was best to know it early on because she came with all this junk in her life.
“Don’t make me withhold kisses until you share. That only hurts us both.”
She groaned. “It’s just been one of those days.”
“Come on then. Get some food, and we’ll go into my living room and snuggle while you tell me.”
Caroline chose a ham and swiss on rye and her cup of coffee and followed him into his living room. He had a fire going and a blanket he’d clearly been using on his recliner chair. He grabbed it and tipped his chin toward the couch.
Bossy.
She settled but he took her plate away and put it on the coffee table. “Take your shoes off, darlin’. I’ll be right back with some thick socks.”
She started to argue, but he left and she realized how dumb it was. Her feet were cold and the idea of his socks sort of made her happy.
As she dropped her boots near the front door, Caroline paused to look at the pictures on the nearby table.
“My mom and my uncle when they were kids.” He grinned as he handed over the socks. “Honey, you need to wear thick socks on a day as cold as this one. Not that I begrudge you a pair of mine, but I don’t like thinking of you with cold toes.”
She followed him back into the living room to put the socks on and get tucked up on the couch next to him. “I had on super-cute boots that I’d normally wear with a skirt. I’m wearing socks. Just not thick ones.”
He rolled his eyes and took a bite of the sandwich. “Thanks for this. So, I take it the brunch sucked.”
She sighed. “My sister’s boyfriend is a self-righteous little prick. He thought he’d school me on embarrassing my family. Apparently the word in town is that I started a fight with Benji instead of the other way around.”
“Who is she dating?”
“Garrett Moseby.”
Royal sneered. “Mindy can do better than him.”
Caroline shrugged. “I can’t give her advice. One, she doesn’t ask for it and two, my grandmother seems to like him. Maybe Mindy can’t do better. Maybe I am embarrassing them. I don’t know. But I do know I won’t let a punk like Garrett give me a lecture about anything but being a punk.”
“Did you punch him in the nose?”
She laughed, leaning over to rest her head on his shoulder a moment. “I’ll have you know I tried very hard not to fight with him at my grandparents’ dinner table. But if I see him in town, he better run.”
But Caroline missed the way her mother had brushed and braided her hair. No one had been able to duplicate those elaborate fishtails and the French braids at her temple that had swept back into a ponytail at the back.
She’d had a crown that day. Her mother had done it before Caroline had left for school. Because there’d been a boy. Caroline couldn’t even remember who the boy was at that point. Only that her mother had been rushing to feed Quique and Mindy, and Caroline had asked at the last minute.
But her mother had sucked in a breath and smiled, asking Caroline for details about the boy as she’d brushed and divided her hair, spraying it with water from a purple spray bottle to make it easier to braid.
The last time Caroline had ever seen her mother alive was when Bianca had called out an I love you from the porch as Caroline ran out on her way to catch the bus.
The police had come to their house with their grandfather. Caroline would never forget what his face had looked like. As if he’d crumple at any moment. Caroline had refused to let them take her hair from that braid for three days until her grandmother had done it when Caroline had finally passed out, exhausted from not sleeping.
From asking over and over when her father was coming home.
In truth, she’d never really come home since then either.
She pulled away from the side of the road, wiping her face on her sleeve and heading to Royal’s.
She knocked on his door, and he opened with a smile, his gaze raking over her and pausing at her eyes. “What’s wrong?”
He drew her inside.
“Nothing. I brought pie and sandwiches.” The cat swayed into the room, saw it was her and after a quick wind around her legs, swayed out.
Royal took the bags in her hand.
“Come on through. I was just getting hungry so your timing is perfect. I have coffee, iced tea, beer, root beer, Coke.” He waved at his kitchen, and for whatever reason, him not treating her like a guest made her feel better.
“I got a few sandwiches because I wasn’t sure what you’d want.” She grabbed a mug and poured coffee.
“A few? There are ten sandwiches in here, girl.”
“Well now you have some for tomorrow when you’re out all day.”
He turned and pulled her close. “That’s nice. I get so busy and I put lunch off and then I rush home and eat a bunch of junk because it’s easy and fast.”
She frowned. “You work awfully hard not to treat yourself better. I’m going to be getting on you about that. Just be warned.”
He kissed her and her sorrow flitted away.
“You taste like tears, Caro. What happened today?”
“Ugh. Let’s eat sandwiches and make out instead.”
He barked a laugh. “We can definitely do that, but I want to know what’s wrong too.”
She paused and wondered if she could let go of it enough to tell him. If she could trust him not to push her away, and if he did it was best to know it early on because she came with all this junk in her life.
“Don’t make me withhold kisses until you share. That only hurts us both.”
She groaned. “It’s just been one of those days.”
“Come on then. Get some food, and we’ll go into my living room and snuggle while you tell me.”
Caroline chose a ham and swiss on rye and her cup of coffee and followed him into his living room. He had a fire going and a blanket he’d clearly been using on his recliner chair. He grabbed it and tipped his chin toward the couch.
Bossy.
She settled but he took her plate away and put it on the coffee table. “Take your shoes off, darlin’. I’ll be right back with some thick socks.”
She started to argue, but he left and she realized how dumb it was. Her feet were cold and the idea of his socks sort of made her happy.
As she dropped her boots near the front door, Caroline paused to look at the pictures on the nearby table.
“My mom and my uncle when they were kids.” He grinned as he handed over the socks. “Honey, you need to wear thick socks on a day as cold as this one. Not that I begrudge you a pair of mine, but I don’t like thinking of you with cold toes.”
She followed him back into the living room to put the socks on and get tucked up on the couch next to him. “I had on super-cute boots that I’d normally wear with a skirt. I’m wearing socks. Just not thick ones.”
He rolled his eyes and took a bite of the sandwich. “Thanks for this. So, I take it the brunch sucked.”
She sighed. “My sister’s boyfriend is a self-righteous little prick. He thought he’d school me on embarrassing my family. Apparently the word in town is that I started a fight with Benji instead of the other way around.”
“Who is she dating?”
“Garrett Moseby.”
Royal sneered. “Mindy can do better than him.”
Caroline shrugged. “I can’t give her advice. One, she doesn’t ask for it and two, my grandmother seems to like him. Maybe Mindy can’t do better. Maybe I am embarrassing them. I don’t know. But I do know I won’t let a punk like Garrett give me a lecture about anything but being a punk.”
“Did you punch him in the nose?”
She laughed, leaning over to rest her head on his shoulder a moment. “I’ll have you know I tried very hard not to fight with him at my grandparents’ dinner table. But if I see him in town, he better run.”
