Page 10 of Blade

“That’s the second time I’ve heard that today,” she mumbles with a frown.

“What’s with the face? Who else did you hear that from? Most people like gifts.” I assume it was Vi, then Emryn confirms it.

“Vi insisted that the belt I’m wearing is a gift. I love gifts, but I want to make my own way,” she says.

“Vi is a generous woman. Believe me, with Vi, it’s all about heart. You made an impression on her, and it meant as much to her. As for the tire, I paid wholesale, so it’s not a huge expense. Seems to me you’re doing a lot of driving, and that means you need decent wheels,” I explain.

“But your time?—”

“Babe, I hope to be spending a lot more time…with you.” She bites her lower lip, then smiles shyly. “You like the idea,” I say, and her small nod confirms I’m right. “Then it’s in my best interest to make sure you’re safe whenever you’re driving around. Peace of mind for me, and an excellent functioning vehicle for you.”

“Then for payment, I’m making you my French silk pie. Well, that is once all my boxes arrive and I can find my baking stuff,” she says with a giggle. “I’m making do with a pot and a frying pan for now. Wednesday can’t come fast enough. I’ll be spending two days putting everything together, but I’ll finally have my bed back.”

“What have you been sleeping on?” I ask with great curiosity.

“I bought a sleeping bag. It’s kind of like camping out. Only inside,” Emmy answers, her giggle turning into a laugh.

“You’ve been sleeping in a sleeping bag since you got here?”

“Well, yeah. I was going to buy a mattress, but that would have been a waste of money when mine is on the way.”

Now I’m curious about what else Emryn’s been doing without. When we arrive at her cottage, I walk her to the door, open it, and hand her back her car keys. “Want some help getting the boxes out of your trunk?” It must be expensive equipment because I recall Emryn didn’t want to leave her car in case it was stolen. It was safe enough at the club, but out in the open, leaving it isn’t the smartest move.

“Would you? That would be awesome. I can make some coffee, if you like,” she says.

“It’s a plan.” Apart from not wanting Emryn to be lifting the heavy boxes, it gives me an excuse to come inside and take a look around. She hands me back the car keys. It takes two trips, and I pile the boxes right by the front door.

Emryn’s behind the kitchen counter, humming and fiddling with the coffee maker. She reaches up and opens the cupboard, where there are exactly two coffee mugs and one plate. One mug is still in its original package, and when she opens the refrigerator, I can see that it’s filled with fruits and vegetables and a carton of milk. Emmy grabs the milk and puts it on the counter. She turns around and lets out an “eek” of surprise.

“You scared me. I thought you were still outside,” she says. She spreads her arms. “Welcome to Casa Emyrn.”

I look around her space and see that it’s mostly bare aside from a couple of stools at the kitchen counter, an old milk crate that holds her laptop, and a beanbag chair that’s seen better days.

“I know it’s not much, but once my stuff arrives, I’ll make it my own,” she says as I continue to look around.

“Where do you sleep?”

“The bedroom’s through there.” She points to the half-open door across from her. “It’s a great cottage. It has an extra room that can be another bedroom, but I’m going to make it into an office,” she says happily.

I step farther into the room and glimpse into the bedroom, where I see a lone sleeping bag, a pillow, and an extra blanket. There isn’t even a lamp. This isn’t right. It shouldn’t take this long to have stuff delivered. Where is it coming from, Alaska?

“Emmy, where is your storage unit?” I ask, doing my best to keep my voice casual.

“About an hour and a half from here, just outside Jameison County,” she replies while pouring coffee. “How do you take it?” She lifts the freshly poured cup of coffee.

“Black, thanks.” I take a seat on her stool. “Why’s it taking so long to get your stuff?”

Emmy leans her hip against the counter, takes a sip, then says, “Well, originally, it was supposed to arrive the same day I arrived, but I got a call from the moving company, and they said they were having an issue with drivers and had to move my date back a couple of days. Stuff happens, so I thought, okay. But it’s beginning to peeve me because they moved the date again. They swear they’ll be here this week, so here’s hoping.”

“They’re jerking you around.”

“I’m sure?—”

I stop her by reaching out, taking her hand, and pulling her close. With the kitchen island between us, we meet in the middle. “Listen, baby, they’re jerking you around, and that stops now. What’s the name of the company?”

“What are you going to do?” she whispers, her hand trembling slightly. Fuck! I’m scaring her. I loosen my grip on her wrist and lower my voice.

“Emryn, you should be sleeping in your own bed, sitting on your sofa, and watching your TV. They made a commitment and haven’t followed through. Twice. That’s not right. I’m going to make the call and let them know that if your stuff isn’t delivered by Wednesday, they’re going to have a problem on their hands,” I tell her calmly.

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