Page 70 of The Backtrack
“I’m just looking for my phone,” Sam called back. She tucked her hair behind her ears and glanced around the room again.
“We took a few things out already.” Bonnie was as close to the window as was safe, and held up Sam’s phone in her hand. “I got your phone.”
But did you get the CD player?Sam wanted to ask, though she had the good sense not to. “Okay, I’ll be right out, then,” she said.
Sam waited for Bonnie to leave so she could keep scouring the room, but Bonnie seemed to also be waiting for Sam to leave. Which irritated Sam in a way only her mother could. She’d forgotten this feeling of being closely watched and monitored by her mom, which had occasionally happened throughout her childhood when Bonnie mustered up the strength to act like a parent.
Sam cleared her throat and turned around to leave the bedroom. She’d have to come back for the CD player, because at the moment she was between a Bonnie and a hard place.
When Sam came out through the front door, the sky was dotted with salt-and-pepper clouds that hinted at the storm from the night before. She rubbed her temple as the humidity filled her sinuses with thick air. Squinting out to the street to assess the damage, there was Alligator Alice, power-walking down the sidewalk and stepping over fallen palm fronds as if there hadn’t just been a massive hurricane.
Sam shielded her eyes against the glare of the sun as she approached her mom. Bonnie handed her the cell phone, and when Sam tapped the screen she discovered it was dead. Because of course it was.
“So, the palm tree,” Sam said, resigned to her tech-free fate. “Who do we call for something like this?”
“Insurance first,” Grandma Pearl said. “After your mama cuts the thing in half and we haul it out of the window.”
Bonnie nodded toward the garage, which was open with a chainsaw lying in wait on the concrete slab of the floor.
Then, as if by Southern lumberjack magic, Damon emerged from the garage, talking on his cell phone. His dark hair wasn’t styled, but fell around his face in waves, and his shadow of a beard had thickened overnight. He must’ve sensed Sam’s eyes on him, because he turned and met her gaze. He quickly glanced away, though, and the sinking feeling of all not being well returned.
She didn’t need to recharge her phone to know he hadn’t responded to her message, or, if he had, there would be nothing good to see.
“I called Damon to ask if he could help with the cleanup,” Grandma Pearl said, reading her thoughts. “He thinks Farrah might be able to bring her pickup truck over to cart away the pieces.”
“It was nice of him,” Bonnie added. “Didn’t know you two still kept in touch.”
“We didn’t,” Sam surprised herself by answering. “But now we do.”
“Oh, they definitely keep intouch,” Pearl said with a side smile. Jessie elbowed her.
Bonnie frowned as she looked between Sam and Damon, likely piecing the not-so-subtle clues together.
“Hey,” Damon said as he walked toward them. Finally, he locked in on Sam. Despite the fact that she knew they had unfinished business, her stomach did the silly fish flip trick again. He hesitated, then wrapped Sam in a hug and brought her into his chest. She closed her eyes as she leaned into the steady solidness of him.
“So, Bonnie’s back, huh?” he said into her ear.
“She came last night,” Sam answered. “Along with the tree in my room.”
Damon looked from the tree, to Sam, to Bonnie and scratched his head, maybe feeling as overwhelmed as Sam did.
For her part, Sam didn’t exactly want to be in this situation, either, and she was starting to get anxious about the possessed CD player. “I might grab a few things from my room before the tree trimming starts,” she said. She didn’t know if she wanted to listen to a song anytime soon, but she did want to have the option. And she felt weirdly protective over the thing.
“Is it safe to go back in?” he asked.
“I’m sure it’s fine.” Sam brushed his comment off. But as soon as the words were out of her mouth, an overweight water rat scuttled across the trunk of the fallen palm, rushing for Sam’s bedroom window.
“Stop!” Sam shouted at the rat, who turned just long enough to sneer and continue its route into the house.
“Never seen one that big,” Damon said.
“I have,” Pearl said, and a dark look crossed her face. “They don’t call Panama City the Redneck Riviera for nothing.”
“Okay, well, we’ll get an exterminator,” Sam offered.
“Honey, you need more than an exterminator to fix the hole in your house. Especially if you let Pearl get her way with selling this place.” Jessie gave Sam athere-therepat on the shoulder. “Pearl, you can bunk with me for the week. And Bonnie can use the couch.”
“And Sam...” Pearl looked over to Damon, which made Damon shift from one foot to the other.
