Wrecked (Crystal Book Billionaires) (14 page)

For the first time ever, it kind of did.

I slowly unbuckled my seat belt and opened the door. “Thanks for the ride.”

“You’re welcome.”

I searched for something new to say, but couldn’t find anything that didn’t sound stupid and ended up settling for something super simple. “It’ll be all right.”

She nodded. “Need help with your bike?”

“No, thanks. I got it. Bye.”

“Goodbye.”

I went around to the back of the vehicle and grabbed my bike, struggling a bit to lift it over the side of the truck. I eventually got it though, and then I stepped back to wave to Tracey while she backed out of the driveway.

I waited until she was gone to put the bike away. After closing the shed door, I stood there and stared at the handle, at a total loss as to what to do next.

Plopping down on the couch and just watching TV seemed impossible after the last twenty minutes. I gnawed on my lip, almost wishing it was Monday so that I could go over to Ms. Roessler’s house and walk her dog. I’d spoken to her the night before, and we’d agreed that I would head over to her house downtown Monday to Friday afternoons and take her terrier, Mr. Jingles, for a half mile walk.

I crossed my arms and raked my eyes across the backyard. They fell on Aunt Ginger’s garden, specifically the vines bursting with ripe tomatoes.

While still in the truck, I’d briefly considered offering Tracey some money. She hadn’t seemed very convinced that the soup kitchens were going to provide her and her kids with what they needed. Granted, I was running pretty low on funds myself. Surely I had more than Tracey did though.

But maybe a better answer was right in front of me.

Excited, I let myself into the house and went straight to the kitchen. After going through several drawers, I found a plastic shopping bag. Surely Aunt Ginger wouldn’t mind me taking just a little bit from her garden. From the looks of it, there were more vegetables there than any one house could need.

I selected a few ripe tomatoes, and then some other ones that still needed a few days to get red. There were a couple pea stalks I hadn’t noticed before and since those were bursting as well, I helped myself to some. The bag full, I headed back inside.

Too bad baby formula doesn’t grow in gardens,
I thought as I stood in the middle of the kitchen. Getting formula had seemed like the thing Tracey was worried about the most. I wondered if Brie would have made the exception Tracey needed if only she’d known about the baby.

I tapped my nails against the kitchen counter. I would just have to stop at a drug store or something and pick up some formula.

My plan perfectly pieced together, I pushed my sunglasses on and headed back towards the shed. A strange energy thrummed in my veins, giving me power and pushing me forward. I knew my calves were aching from all the biking and walking I’d done over the last week, but as I climbed on the bike, I couldn’t even feel the pain. I had a mission to tend to and that itself usurped everything else.

There was an old time pharmacy downtown, which I’d seen when walking back from Freddy’s the day before. Hopefully, they’d have just what I was looking for.

My bare arms tingled while I biked. I wasn’t used to being outside so much and was no doubt getting sunburned. I’d have to start remembering sunscreen.

The familiar court house bell appeared over the tree tops, signaling that I was almost downtown. Slowing the speed of the bike, I navigated my way to the pharmacy.

They did have formula, which completed my check list. Now came the hard part: actually finding Tracey’s house.

“Can you tell me where the old mill is?” I asked the elderly pharmacist. He wore a long white coat over a button up shirt and tie, just like you would expect someone who worked in a drug store fifty years ago to wear. “The one on the west side of town,” I further explained, hoping that was enough.

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Well now, let’s see… you take the main street down three blocks and then turn right at the traffic light there. I reckon it’s not more than a half a mile that way.”

“Thanks.” I grabbed the paper bag with the formula and headed out.

By the time I got to what had to be the old mill, sweat was dripping down my neck and my mouth was dry and parched. The brick mill stood two stories high and looked to be out of use. Half of the windows were boarded up. The ones that still had glass were full of cracks and holes.

I began inspecting each house I passed, looking in the driveways for Tracey’s white pickup. I realized for the first time that there was a good possibility that she might not be home. In that case, I wasn’t sure what I would do. Maybe knock on some doors and see if anyone knew where she lived?

The houses didn’t look much different than the ones in my aunt and uncle’s neighborhood. Some of them were even nicer, with bigger porches and new cars parked in front of them.

Not far from the mill, I saw it. The white truck. It sat in the driveway of a little white house. In the front yard were several toys, including a plastic play house and some balls.

Quickly, I turned my bike around. The last thing I needed was for Tracey to see me. I didn’t know if she would accept my help. And even if she did, I wasn’t sure I was prepared for any thank yous.

Feeling like a regular Jane Bond, I stashed my bike in between some bushes and crept along the tree line leading to Tracey’s house. Thin woods surrounded her little plot of land, with no houses right next to it, so I had a decent amount of coverage.

The plastic bag with the veggies and formula clutched in one hand, I bent down behind a thick tree and studied the front of the house. The front door was closed, and there were no signs of movement, but from somewhere inside a baby cried.

I took one more long survey of the house and then bolted, running across the yard and leaving the bag on the front stoop. As soon as the plastic touched the brick, I turned tail and headed back for my bike. I was on it and going in a matter of seconds. The trees and houses blurred as I pumped faster, enjoying the thrill of the getaway.

I laughed out loud.

Who knew being sneaky could be so much fun?

The house’s shadows were long and fat when I arrived back in my neighborhood. I had no clue what time it was but guessed it was about time for my aunt and uncle to be getting home.

I was right about that. Both of their cars were in the driveway, but there was a third one there as well. A black SUV.

My heart skipped a beat, and I avoided crashing into a mini cooper parked down the street from the house just in time. Could it be…?

But why would Luke be at my aunt and uncle’s house?

Blood rushing to my ears, I hopped off the bike and wheeled it up to the front porch to lean it against the steps. I held my breath as I walked into the house, not sure whether I needed to be excited or afraid.

Perhaps Luke was there to fire me from Community First.

Imagine that. You can’t sink much lower after getting fired from a volunteer position.

The three voices I’d been listening for came from the kitchen. I held my breath as I walked in and, a second too late, realized I hadn’t bothered to check my reflection. I’d taken the pink beanie off on the last bike ride because my head had finally gotten too hot. No doubt my hair was in tangles.

Aunt Ginger and Uncle Joe sat at the ends of the kitchen table and right between them was Luke. At the sound of my entrance, he turned his head to look at me. My stomach flipped, and I nervously ran a hand up and over my hair.

“Hi Grace,” Aunt Ginger smiled. “We were just getting to know Luke some.”

“Oh,” I rasped. “Nice.”

Uncle Joe’s brows furrowed. “Got a frog in your throat?”

“I just need some water,” I explained, though that was only half the reason I couldn’t speak very well. Crossing the kitchen, I grabbed a glass from the dish drainer and filled it up at the sink. I could feel Luke’s eyes on my back the whole time, the gaze feeling more like an actual palm between my shoulder blades than anything else.

“You left your phone at Community First,” Luke said.

I stopped gulping water and turned to look at him. “I did?”

He nodded to the middle of the table. There sat the phone I hadn’t even known I’d lost.

“Thanks.”

He gave a quick nod but didn’t look at me.

“Luke,” Aunt Ginger said. “Why don’t you stay for dinner?”

The couple of seconds it took for him to answer seemed like eons. Now that it appeared I wasn’t getting fired, Luke’s stopping by had turned into a marvelous opportunity to plant some seeds for the two of us.

“I don’t want to impose,” he answered.

Aunt Ginger reached out and placed her hand on his forearm. “Oh no, you wouldn’t be imposing at all. We love having guests.”

I held back a snort. Apparently Luke had an effect on most women similar to the one he had on me.

“All right,” he said after another moment. “That’s sounds nice. Thank you.”

Aunt Ginger stood up. “I’m making lasagna, and we’ll be having salad from the garden. It’s so full in July. Grace saw it the other day. Isn’t there a lot out there, Grace?”

“Uh, yeah,” I mumbled.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Luke looking at me with his eyes slightly narrowed. When I glanced full on at him, though, he was already looking away.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked Aunt Ginger.

“No,” she beamed. “You relax. Grace can entertain you.”

I glanced at Uncle Joe, hoping he might take that task over for a few minutes while I went and got myself decent looking, but he was already halfway out the doorway.

Luke stood, looking uncertainly at me. The smile on his face was the most strained one I’d ever seen, and I wondered why on Earth he’d agreed to dinner when he so obviously didn’t want to be there?

Aunt Ginger grabbed her straw basket and left the kitchen as well, leaving just Luke and me. I skirted around him to pick my phone up.

“Thanks for bringing this,” I said.

“You’re welcome.”

I turned the phone over and over in my hands, trying to think of the next thing to say. For some reason
Want to see my bedroom?
was the only damn sentence I could think of.

“You must like biking,” Luke commented, shoving his hands down in his jean pockets.

“Not really.”

“Oh.”

“I just don’t have a car right now, so, you know…”

He nodded. “Right.”

“Luke.” Uncle Joe shoved his head back in the doorway. “Want to see my arrowhead collection?”

I wrinkled my nose. Okay, arrowheads were semi-cool, I guess, but were they worthy of showing a random guest?

Maybe that was Uncle Joe’s thing. Maybe he showed every person that came to the house his arrowhead collection.

“Sure,” Luke said.

“Grace hasn’t seen it either.”

“I think I should take a shower before dinner,” I said. “I’ll check it out some other time.”

They left, and I scurried in the opposite direction, grabbing some clothes from my room to take with me into the bathroom.

The cold water felt marvelous on my hot skin. The fact that I stood naked in a house that Luke was also currently in wasn’t lost on me. I chose to take the circumstances as a sign that there would be plenty more times I would be naked in a house with him.

As I shampooed my hair, my thoughts turned to Tracey. Had she found the bag of food yet? She said she would take her kids to the soup kitchen that night, but what did they even serve at those kinds of places? Hopefully, my paltry efforts had helped out at least a little bit.

She was so young. When had she gotten married?

And that thing she’d said about staying at home so her husband could work. She’d expected him to provide for her and in the end, he picked up and left her.

My stomach clenched tightly. I didn’t know the circumstances of Tracey’s marriage, but she seemed like a decent enough person. If her husband could just leave her out of the blue like that, then certainly most women’s husbands could.

The more I thought about it, the less appealing making a career out of being a rich man’s wife seemed. What if I did marry Luke and he decided one day that he didn’t want me anymore? I’d be out on the streets.

Nope
, I reminded myself.
That’s what marriage is for. It’s to protect people. If my husband were to divorce me, I would be entitled to some of his money.

My friend Amber was ten when her father left her mother for Amber’s nanny. Amber’s mom had never worked a day in her life and had no way to support herself. In the end, though, a judge declared she get half of everything her ex-husband owned. The court had given the money to her on the claims that, as per agreement of their marriage, she hadn’t pursued a career for herself.

And she wasn’t the only woman that had happened to. Time and time again, I heard that the law protected women and children who had been left by men.

So what was the deal with Tracey? How come she wasn’t getting any money from her no good husband? I ached to know the answer, but I very well knew I couldn’t just show up at her house out of the blue and ask for it.

Dinner was half on the table when I reappeared in the kitchen, much more presentable and doubly confident. Luke eyed me as I edged along the wall to take the seat across from him, but I acted like I didn’t notice. Instead, I put all my attention on the plate of lasagna Aunt Ginger handed me.

The one good thing about biking around everywhere was that it helped me feel a little less guilty about eating all of my aunt’s rich cooking. Since arriving at her house, I’d already allowed myself half a dozen foods that I typically tried to not even look at.

I was pretty excited about adding lasagna to that list. Uncle Joe handed me the salad bowl, and I heaped a big pile of it on my plate.

“You know,” Aunt Ginger said. “I think those darn squirrels are getting into the garden again.”

I eyed her and waited for more.

“Why’s that?” Uncle Joe asked.

She shook her head and unfolded her napkin to set it on her lap. “Because I could have sworn there were twice as many tomatoes in the garden this morning as there were when I came home today.”