Page 58 of Because of Her

“Thank you,” Maisie says, bringing me back to the present as she licks around her cone.

I’m not sure if she is thanking me for taking her to ballet, or for the ice cream, but knowing I made her day feels better than I thought it would. An unexpected warmth spreads through me, melting the ice cream in my hands.

Maybe I could get used to being part of this little girl’s life after all.

CALLUM

Aloud banging from the hall jolts me out of the slumber I was in. The noise sends me into a panic, and I have to count out my breaths to slow my racing heart.

After a brief pause, the banging recommences and I’m forced to crawl my way out of bed. Grabbing a pair of shorts from the dresser, I pull them on before storming down the hall. The sky still has the peachy hue of sunrise and this morning was supposed to be my rest day after running all week. Whoever is waking me up with their constant knocking better have a good reason.

My hand reaches for the doorknob when I realise it might be Cass. The buzzer never rang, so it has to be someone from in the building, and I can’t think who else it would be. I don’t know why she would be banging on my door at the crack of dawn, but it can’t be good.

I crack the door open an inch and am caught by surprise when I find the lady from apartment thirty one standing in front of me.

“Mrs Kelly?”

She gasps at my appearance.

“Go put some clothes on,” she says, placing her wrinkled hands on my chest and trying to push me back into the apartment. “Or don’t,” she adds with a smirk when I stand firm.

I fold my hands across my front, forcing her to pull her own off me.

“What do you want?” I yawn.

“Hmm, not as pleasant as I thought you’d be.”

“Meaning?” I don’t have time for games, and since I was woken up early and haven’t had coffee yet, my patience is wearing thin.

“I’ve seen you with your daughter, and Cassidy practically begged me to ask for your help. I thought you would be nicer to an old lady.”

Sure, but the old lady woke me up, and still won’t tell me what’s going on. Even still, I clear my throat, pushing the frustration down before I respond.

“You knocked—no, banged—on my door while I was still asleep, and still haven’t told me why.”

“Oh.” She takes a step back, wringing her hands in front of her. Her hunched frame is petite and frail. “I need your help. Well, we need your help. Cassidy thought she could do it herself, but the pot is too heavy.”

Cassidy’s name extinguishes the frustration that had been sizzling through my veins. For the past week we’ve been floating between friendship and something more. The sensual touches, lingering looks, have all indicated something more, but we still haven’t had a chance to talk about what has changed between us.

I’ve never properly met this old lady, but if Cassidy needs my help for something, I’ll be there. Even though I’m still a fraction confused at what exactly they are trying to do.

“Let me get a shirt.” I close the door on Mrs Kelly and race back to my bedroom, pulling out the first tee I can find.

Returning to find the hall empty, I figure the old lady must have returned to her own apartment. Her door is open at the end of the building, so I let myself in, announcing my presence with a loud, “Hello?”

At the end of the building, apartment thirty one is a different layout to mine and Cassidy’s. I know because I saw the floorplans when I first bought the building, but I can’thelp but peer into the rooms either side of her short hallway. One bedroom has a large queen bed with an oversized purple comforter, the other has been set up as a craft room, complete with sewing machine, baskets overflowing with wool, and an easel by the window.

“On the balcony!”

Cassidy’s voice races through my body like lightning, and I find myself chasing down the high as I power walk to the tiny outdoor space.

Outside, a tree taller than Cassidy rests on its side in a giant terracotta pot, surrounded by bags of potting mix. The women stand back, staring at it. Both have their hands on their hips, but my gaze is drawn to Cassidy’s face. The sun catches the green in her eyes, giving them a sparkle I didn’t know was possible outside of fantasy movies. Rather than her signature messy bun, her hair is in a loose braid that sits over her shoulder. The ends dangle over her breast, drawing my attention to the perfect perky mounds. For the briefest moment, I imagine getting lost in them, until Mrs Kelly coughs and I am shocked out of my imagination.

“My lemon tree needs repotting,” Mrs Kelly says, as she steps through my space to head back inside.

“She’s up to something.” Cassidy laughs when Mrs Kelly slams the sliding door shut behind her. “It’s not repotting season but she insisted. She also told me she could move the pot herself.”

Behind the giant pot, a second, even larger pot sits empty. Its thick black rim contrasts against the murky orange of the base.

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