Page 103 of Scatter the Bones

“Nah, it’s clever.”She and I see things so differently, don’t we?“He said it wasn’t that bad.”

Her nose wrinkles like she’s trying to hold back a wave of emotion. “No one should have to do that. Especially a kid.”

“He’s not a kid.”

“He’s still a teenager,” she insists.

“He’s a survivor.”

“It still…shouldn’t be that way,” she says.

“Well, it’s not anymore.” I uncap the water and take a sip. “He wasreallyexcited about the apartment.”

“I bet.” She hesitates. “Wait, so he’s there all alone in a new place now?”

I shrug. “I don’t think we’re at the sleepover stage of our relationship, yet. One step at a time.” I pick up my phone and glance at the screen. A few group chat notifications. Nothing I need to answer now. Nothing from Cain. “He has my number if he needs something.”

“Good.” A relieved smile spreads over her face. She slides a spatula under the sandwich and lifts it off the griddle, setting it onto a plate and cutting it into quarters with methodical precision.

Why didn’t I just listen to her? I didn’t have to get so prickly when she just wanted to help.

My mouth waters as she sets the sandwich plate in front of me, cheese spilling out of the sides. I pick up one of the quarters, instantly searing my fingers.

“Ow.” I drop it on the plate.

“It’s hot.” She waves her hand at the stove. “You saw it come off the griddle.”

“It looks too good, though.”

Laughing, she sets a small bowl of pickles and olives next to my plate. “I don’t really have anything else to go with it.”

“This is fine. You didn’t have to cook for me.”

“It’s a grilled cheese.” She rolls her eyes. “Not a prime rib.”

How’d I forget to tell her this part?“Speaking of. He wanted to go to Southwest Steakhouse for lunch.”

“Nice. I’ve only been there a few times, but the food was good from what I remember.”

“It was. Little shit ordered the most expensive thing on the menu.” I laugh, still amused by his brazenness. “All the extras.”

Concern, not humor, lines her expression. “Probably the most he’s eaten since he left home.”

That wipes the amusement off my face. “Maybe. He told me he thought it was a ‘fuck off’ lunch, and later admitted he ordered the big steak to get what he could out of me.”

“Awww.”

The warmth in her voice sinks into the darkest parts of my heart. “See, I told you he’s clever.”

“And a survivor.” She sips her own water. “What else did you do?”

“Took him shopping for a few things. The apartment’s furnished but he needed food—obviously.”

“Good call.”

“Took him to get a heavier coat, boots, sneakers, and some clothes for work.”

“That’s really sweet.”

---