Page 19 of Nothing to Deny

“Says who?”

“Adulthood,” she said, straightening to massage again.

The youngster’s frown grew while remaining intent on her massage. “Why is this a special occasion?”

“I’m making a new friend,” she said and stopped massaging to tilt her head. “Unless you don’t want to be my friend.”

“I… I want to be your friend,” he said, his expression loosening though his eyes flicked up and down when she switched her massage to the other foot. “Your feet hurt?”

“It’s the shoes,” she said, sharing a private smile with herself.

Slanting to the side, he peeked off the edge of the bed. “Boy, they look…”

“Lethal?” she asked. “It’s a stiletto platform. Has to be. I’m short.”

He blinked. “Baer is six feet four inches tall.”

Raising her brows, her smile was tight. “I noticed… Why do you think I need the high shoes?”

“Dad says me and Charlie might be tall like them one day… you think maybe?”

From what she could see, he was already tall, though he probably didn’t feel it next to his brother.

“It’s possible,” she said. “I was told someone’s height is dependent on their parents’.”

That disappointed him. “Huh, Mom is short. Not as short as you, I don’t think.”

She laughed. “Not many people are, honey.”

“Are your parents short?”

It wasn’t unusual for kids to ask about her parents, or for parents to ask about her parents. Still the question always caught the breath in the back of her throat.

“My dad was tall,” she said. “My mom only hit five flat.”

With the innocence of a child and a wariness that suggested he feared the response, he asked, “Was?”

She licked her lips. “My parents died when I was ten.”

His attention dropped to his uninjured hand resting on the bed. “Charlie and me were eight when ours had their accident.”

Curiosity and sympathy inspired questions, but this was Baer’s private business. She doubted he’d appreciate her prying. Not that it mattered. They weren’t dating each other; she wasn’t his client.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s not easy to lose someone close to you.”

Perking up, he was quick to make eye contact. “We didn’t lose them. We live with Dad… he was just… he got banged up and has problems with his leg sometimes, so he can’t work like he used to. That’s why Baer supports us. But, Dad, like looks after us and stuff.”

No mention of their mother, but she wouldn’t ask. “Must be good to have a big brother living with you.”

Again, he shook his head. “Baer has his own place in the attic… he does maintenance in the building, gets us a break on rent.” This kid wasn’t shy about sharing. “Are you going to like get with him?”

“Get with…? Oh, no, honey. We’re just friends.”

Even when hurting his arm or talking about his parents, he hadn’t looked so dejected as he did right then, sagging against the pillows propping him up.

“Dad says Claire messed him up good. Mom and Dad were in the hospital for so long after the accident, Baer was trying tolook after us and them, it was tough. I don’t remember a whole lot, just that Mom wasn’t around… But after that, we didn’t see Claire anymore… Dad said she was only interested in the sprint.”

“Not the marathon,” she murmured. In the hallway, Chapman was quick to put that same label on her. Guilty, just how like this Claire might she be? Yeah, that wasn’t the time for internal crises. Changing the subject, and the mood, she squeezed his ankle, then renewed her efforts to massage her feet. “So did you think about what color you want them to wrap your cast in?”

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