Lib Novel Page 153
“Yes, it has.” She smiles at me softly. “But just having a hard life doesn’t mean you can recognize people for what they are. There’s a lot you need to learn. You need to be able to distinguish between your well-wishers and those who seek to do you harm. You need to understand that not everything you see is real. Sometimes people only show you what they want you to see. You’re still young; experience comes with age. In the meantime, I’ll try to shield you as much as I can.”
Once we reach my apartment building, Elsa waits for me outside while I retrieve the bottles. After I hand them to her, I linger in the entranceway. “I know I’m a little difficult, Elsa, but thank you for always looking out for me. Your daughter is very lucky to have a mother like you.”
I rarely see Elsa get emotional, but my words seem to reach somewhere deep inside her because her eyes soften. I glimpse a heavy sadness in them.
“I hope she thinks so, too.”
When she walks away, her shoulders are bowed down as if there is a great burden on them.
I’ve never seen Tina in person. She hasn’t visited her mother in all the years I’ve been here. Considering how small a town this is, if she had shown up, I would have known. I wonder if mother and daughter simply don’t get along.
I head back upstairs and plug in my phone to charge. I’m thinking about having something to eat when I hear a knock on the door.
“Who is it?” I call out, padding barefoot toward the door.
“It’s me, Tim.”
I quickly open the door and look down at the child standing before me in his pajamas. He seems nervous.
“Tim? What are you doing out here this time of night?” I glance toward his apartment door. “Does your father know you’re awake?”
“Dad’s not here,” Tim replies, clearly upset. “I had a bad dream, and I went to wake him up, but he isn’t in bed. He’s not home. I checked everywhere.”
“What are you saying?” I frown. “He left you alone in your apartment?”
“He does that sometimes. He says he has to meet people. But he promised he wouldn’t do it again. I don’t—I don’t want to sleep there all alone. Can I stay here till he comes back?”
I open the door wider for him. “Of course.”
Tim hurries inside, shaking. I can see that he’s stressed about being left alone at home; to calm him down, I offer him a cup of hot chocolate.
“Which kind?” He eyes me doubtfully. “Last time, you had that bitter chocolate mix. It wasn’t very good.”
I grin at him. “I got the good stuff this time. It’s sweet, and it makes a really fluffy hot chocolate.”
“What’s a fluffy hot chocolate?” He giggles. “You’re making things up.”
Relieved to see him laughing, I put my hands on his shoulders and guide him toward the kitchen. “Well, you’ll see when you taste it. Are you hungry? I was going to grab some dinner.”
“Make dinner or grab it?” Tim asks, looking up at me. “Can we order pizza?”
“At one thirty in the morning? Aren’t they closed?”
“Mr. Jerome’s Pizza Spot is always open,” Tim informs me brightly. “Dad brings home pizza from that place when he works late at night.”
Drew is in construction. What is he doing there so late? “Since when has your dad been working nights?” I ask Tim lightly.
“Since always,” Tim replies. He sits down at the kitchen table as I search for the menu for the pizza place. “Even after Mom—”
He goes quiet instantly, his face turning white.
“What’s wrong?” I ask urgently.
“Dad doesn’t like talking about her.” Tim’s hands are trembling. He twists his fingers together, trying to hide it. “He gets very angry when I talk about her.”
His words surprise me. When I started babysitting Tim, Drew explicitly told me not to bring up his deceased mate, telling me that Tim reacted badly to any mention of her. At the time, I thought he simply wanted to shield his son from memories of the murder. So I made it a point never to mention Katie to Tim. But why would Drew get angry if Tim brought her up?
“You don’t have to talk about your mom if you don’t want to,” I say to the boy, trying to keep my voice even so as not to upset him.