Page 9 of The Persistence of Thornes
Hawthorne Mills might not be the place for us after all, but we have nowhere else to go, so for now, it’ll have to do.
CHAPTER 2
HALLE
“Stop shoving each other,” I hiss.
Ignoring me, Quinn and Casen continue arguing over what color to paint their room.
I pinch my brow and will the annoyance building inside me to abate. I have to keep my head on straight. For them. For me. I can’t afford to fall apart.
And definitely not in the middle of a hardware store.
I’mnotjust their older sister anymore. I’m their guardian, and that means I have to act with a higher level ofmaturity than I have previously.
“I want yellow.” Casen pulls out a swatch and thrusts it at Quinn.
Quinn slams it back into his chest. “And I want green.”
“If you two can’t figure this out civilly, thenI’mpicking the color, and I promise you won’t like my choice.”
There. That sounds more guardian-like. I’m providing them a solution while also being firm in my delivery.
That shuts them up quickly. They exchange a look, then Quinn says, “Can we do the room half yellow and half green?”
It’s going to cost me more in paint, but at this point I don’t care. “Sure.”
“Sweet.” They fist bump and bow their heads together, conspiring as if they weren’t just arguing.
I leave them to it and go in search of an employee.
A man in a Thorne Hardware apron steps out from an aisle, kind smile already in place and a pair of reading glasses perched on his balding head. “Can I help you with something?”
“Do you have any clearance paint? Maybe colors people changed their minds about and returned?”
I mentally cross my fingers. It may not save me much, but right now, every dollar counts, and I’m hoping that a fresh layer of paint will help with the lingering stale smell inside the house.
He cocks his head and presses his lips together, thoughtful. “Sometimes we do. Follow me.” With a wave, he turns and heads down the aisle. “If we’ve got any, they’ll be overhere.” He takes a left and points to a shelf of miscellaneous items. “It may take a bit to sort through it all.”
Cautious hope fills me as I eye the overflowing shelf. Hopeful or not, the smile I give the man is forced. Sometimes I wonder if once, maybe when I was young, before life wore me down, they were genuine. “Thank you.”
He peers over my shoulder, neck craned. “Do you need a cart?”
Lip caught between my teeth, I half turn and follow his line of sight. “Yeah, I’ll go get one.”
He waves me off with a firm hand. “I’ve got it.”
Before I can utter another word, he’s headed toward the front of the store.
While I wait for him to return, I dig through the clearance items, setting aside a few cans of paint. The color options aren’t great, but the discount is steep. There’s a purple shade that will work for my room, even though I don’t love it. A blue that will look okay for the main spaces. A yellow that’s perhaps a bittoobright but will be fine for now in the kitchen and laundry room.
The man approaches with a cart. “Finding everything you need?”
“Yep, I think so.” I grasp the handle of a gallon in each hand and heft them into the cart. “It’s not perfect, but I’m on a budget.”
He looks me up and down, brow furrowed in curiosity. “You’re new in town.” It’s a statement, not a question.
“I am.” I dip my chin. “My brothers and I just moved here.”
