Page 46 of Brenna, Brat

“Like, as a temporary thing, as I argue the landlord into submission,” I suggested, and Campbell nodded. “I could give you rent.”

“No, no,” he said, now shaking his head. “I’d like to have you there. It’s weird for me, not having a schedule and things to do every day. I could help you.”

“You could help me sew?”

“I could be the guy who holds the water bottle to squirt it into your mouth, or to pat your forehead with a towel,” he said. “I could answer the thousands of messages that come in on your phone.”

“It’s a lot about the wedding right now,” I said, and sighed as I looked at it. Fifty-eight notifications, and I had cleared everything before I’d started cooking. “And now there’s stuff from Dion, too.” I had checked in on him a few times, because I had been worried that whoever had firebombed us at the gallery might have made another attempt to rid the world of his presence. “He says he’s been hiding at a friend’s house temporarily but he needs another place to live. If he doesn’t mind the floor squelching and breathing spores into his lungs, then he could stay in my former atelier, since I don’t need it.”

“Does that mean you’re going to accept my offer?”

“It really won’t bother you to have me there?” I asked him. “I grate on people, you know.”

“We get along,” he said, and that was only true because he was so easy-going and pleasant. But I knew that I would only feel more stress and pressure as the wedding date approached, speeding toward me, and there were so many things left to accomplish…

“Take another breath.” Now he put both hands on my shoulders. “Look into my eyes.”

I did. They were a beautiful brown color, carob. “Are you trying to put me into a trance?”

“I’m willing you to say yes,” Campbell told me. “Why not?”

Chapter 10

“Because it’s too dangerous!”

I shook my head. “No, that’s ridiculous.”

Nicola’s angry huff sounded loud coming out of my speaker. “You were almost incinerated because of him!”

“No, the fire wasn’t about Campbell,” I stated, although the authorities hadn’t concluded anything yet. They’d reinterviewed me, him, Dion, and probably Alecta, although we hadn’t spoken in a long time. In fact, my last words to her had been, “You can’t run away from this!” as she, in fact, ran down the street to get away from the burning building and from her responsibilities.

“That’s the other problem,” my sister said, “because if it wasn’t about your boyfriend—”

“Which he isn’t!” I broke in. “Don’t you dare say that in front of Campbell, Nicola!”

“Ok, ok,” she soothed, but then got she angry all over again. “If the fire wasn’t about Campbell Bates, then it’s about someone else in that gallery.”

I knew where she was heading: Dion and the new developments with him. “Yes, the bombing probably related to Alecta and her drug dealing,” I agreed in order to head her off.

“Which is something else you didn’t tell me about!” she barked, but Nic wasn’t distracted for long. “I meant your other coworker, Dion. What were you thinking? Why did you do this?”

“I was thinking that he needed a place to live, and Mom has plenty of space. What she doesn’t have is enough money,” I explained. “Now she’s getting rent from him and more for utilities.” Dion had moved into our former bunkroom in my mom and dad’s—in my mom’s house. That had been small for six girls but was a luxurious amount of space for one skinny guy.

“You invited the man who just survived an assassination attempt to live with our mother.”

“Technically, she was the one who invited him,” I corrected. “And even more technically, it wasn’t an invitation. They signed a lease, so it’s all legal.”

“Technically,” she repeated. “Technically?”

“You said that the assassination attempt was about Campbell, anyway,” I reminded her. “So Dion renting a room from Mom shouldn’t be any problem at all.”

“Brenna, so help me…”

“No one will know that he’s there,” I said. “It was part of the deal. He’s having his mail forwarded to his own mom’s house and he doesn’t have his name on anything related to the new address except for the lease. It’s a different neighborhood and one that he never really frequented before. He’s even driving a different car, Nicola.” That was due to the damage to his old one, since he’d parked it (illegally) right in front of the gallery in the loading zone on the day of the fire. I’d helped him deal with the insurance company and now he was driving a new crappy clunker, which no one would recognize. “He’s also not drawing attention by hooking up, which was another part of the deal,” I continued. He’d sworn to me that he was done with women.

“I’m not going near a girl, not ever again. Look where it got me!” he’d said when we had met to discuss my idea of him renting from my mom. He’d stared down at his penis area and continued mournfully, “Something’s wrong down there. I can’t get it up.” He had then mimicked jerking off, but I already understood the problem that he was referencing. I just didn’t want to think about it.

“That’s a good thing for you,” I’d said, because I’d experienced some minor qualms about him in the house with my mother. But she was still crying over the loss of my dad, who, it seemed, had totally moved on. According to Sophie, he was living his life and doing fine.

---