Page 6 of The Chad Next Door
I look behind me at the girl, who spoke. I’m guessing Link is the boy, though he’s focused more on Duke than on me. The only sign I get that he may have said something to his sister is the pink in his cheeks.
“There aren’t wolverines in Colorado,” I say, though I’m not entirely sure about that. I’ve spent my whole life in New Mexico outside of the family reunions Lloyd throws here in Laketown, so it’s not like I could call myself an expert on Colorado wildlife.
Link looks up at me for half a second before dropping his head again. He looks angry.
“I would listen to him,” the mom says, finally getting over her laughing fit. “Link knows animals better than anyone.”
“I don’t know if we should be trusting a seven-year-old to identify—”
“He’s six.” She rises to her feet, all traces of her laughter gone.
I clench my jaw. “That makes him even less reliable.”
Fire flashes in her eyes as she steps closer to me. “Oh, and you’re an expert on Colorado wildlife?”
It’s a simple question, but her voice carries undercurrents of accusation. Either she is a wildlife expert—not likely—or she has guessed right when it comes to my own knowledge and doesn’t like that I’ve chosen to be right regardless. On top of that, I’ve insulted her kid. Not a great first impression.
Not that it matters. This will hopefully be our one and only interaction.
Maybe it was a wolverine, but I’m pretty sure it was a badger. Then again, I don’t even know the difference between a squirrel and a chipmunk. Working around downtown Sun City doesn’t require a thorough knowledge of woodland creatures. Maybe the first grader does know better than me. Whatever it was, she’s not going to want it crawling in and out of her house. “Sorry for letting myself in,” I tell the mom. “I heard you scream.”
“I appreciate you checking in,” she says, though she can’t seem to decide if she means it as she gazes at me intently. I keep my expression neutral out of habit, which seems to frustrate her. “We can take it from here, and you can go congratulate yourself for being the big, strong hero.”
I have no idea what to say to that without sounding either condescending or conceited, so I opt to say nothing. I would leave if the kids would get out of the way, but they form a wall with Duke, the girl gazing up at me while the boy pretends I’m not here. “Duke, home.”
He whines, eyes darting between the two kids. He loves kids, and he never gets to be around them because I’m a homebody who only takes him out on my daily runs. Houston sometimes acts like a kid, but it’s not the same.
I feel bad about it, but I need to get both of us out of there before this turns into a thing. “Duke. Home.”
He does as he’s told, backing away from the door and click-clacking down the hall. His retreat sparks the kids to move too, finally giving me an escape.
I make it to the front door before a soft voice says, “I’m Hope, by the way.”
I glance back, trying to gauge the woman’s reason for introducing herself.
She shrugs, wiping a few stray tears from her cheek. “I figured if you ever have to rescue me again, you should know. What’s your name?”
“Call me Grizz.” It’s the name my siblings used to call me, and it feels a lot safer than giving her my real name. Safer from what, I have no idea. Maybe I just know the effect my name has thanks to the internet. I’m gruff already, but as soon as people learn I’m named Chad, they seem to think I’m some sort of dude-bro out to seduce women and flaunt my upper class, white male success.
Pretty sure hiding alone in the mountains is the farthest I can get from my name.
Hope cocks her head, probably testing out my name and trying to decide if it’s real. “How long have you lived here?”
That’s not a question I should answer either, though I don’t want to lie to her. So I give a different truth. “I bought the house about a year ago.” Hoping it would be a nice vacation home for Mercedes and me, but who needs that detail? Not me. Except, this is the first time I’ve set foot in the house since the contractor finished the remodel about a week before my girlfriend dumped me.
“I’ve never been to Laketown before last night,” she says as she leans against the wall. “Anything I should know?”
Stay away from badgers is the first thing that comes to mind, but I hold that in. It’s not any worse than what I actually say, though. “Keep to yourself. Everyone else does.”
If only that were the truth.
Chapter Four
Hope
October 9
All in all, the couchisn’t too bad. I thought it would be lumpy or have springs that poked me in the back all night, but it was comfortable enough that I managed a few hours of decent sleep before my growling stomach woke me up a little after five this morning.
