Page 34 of Waiting For Ever
“And? Go where? With what? And how?” She folds her arms across her chest like a mom scolding a child. Not my mom, but regular moms I assume. Like TV moms do.
“Look . . . Allie, you seem really nice and uh, kind, but I could be a serial killer.”
“Are you?” She raises one eyebrow and waits.
“No, but I’m an ugly drunk. And not very good company.”
“What’s your name?”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m nobody. Nothing.” I unclench my hands I unknowingly fisted and look at the scrapes, rubbing my sweaty palms down my thighs.
“Well, Nobody Nothing, as unfortunate as that name is, I have a place that’s empty. It could use some work. I’d planned to hire someone to help me fix it up. I mean, you’re not in any shape to . . . do much of anything right now, except heal. But would you . . . want a job? A place to stay?” She places dishes in the dishwasher as she talks.
“What makes you think I want a job? Or a place to stay?”
“Let’s call it a hunch.” She folds her arms across her chest again, tilts her head and studies me.
“You’re too trusting.” I shake my head slowly and put the last bite of sandwich in my mouth, staring down at my plate as I chew.
“I’d like to think of it as being a good human and hopefully solid at reading people. Sleep here on the couch tonight. We’ll assess your injuries in the morning and see if you need a doctor.”
“What about your husband?” I pick up the pickle wedge as she takes the plate from in front of me.
“No husband. The sweats were my dad’s. And in case I’m bad at reading people, I have a black belt in karate and I’m pretty sure I could kick your ass—even without your injuries.”
That earned another bark of laughter that has me gripping my ribs again and hissing through clenched teeth at the stabbing pain. I drop the pickle on my napkin. “I’ll be fine. But, uh, thanks. Allie. For . . .” I stop to breathe through a wave of nausea.
She doesn’t wait for me to finish my sentence. “You’re welcome, Nobody. Glad you’re not a serial killer.”
“It’s Jay—Julian.”
“Jay Julian? That’s different.”
“Just Julian.”
“Okay, night, Just Julian. Get some rest.”
Before I drift off into a fitful sleep on the pretty white couch, I decide that if God won’t put me out of my misery and let me die, maybe I’ll stay and help this woman who was nice enough to help me. Even if I believe she’s dangerously too trusting.
What else do I have going for me anyway?
Chapter 28
Julian
Present Day
“Where’d you go?” Ever’s question pulls me out of my flashback.
“I . . . I guess seeing my place through someone else’s eyes for the first time took me back to when I first moved in. Allie gave me room and board to fix the place up. It took about a year to get it just the way I wanted it. The project and this place kinda saved me, I guess. Gave me a new lease on life, a new path. But . . .” I give an involuntary shiver. “Enough of my memory lane. Tell me something I don’t know about you, your life.”
She considers me for a few seconds.
I hold my breath hoping she’ll play along and we can stop talking aboutmy past.
“Sylvie cornered me in the gym and told me to stay away from you. And I know that’s why you wanted to come here instead of staying at the coffee shop. I saw her car.”
I bark a short laugh. “You aren’t afraid to just say the truth, are you?”
