Page 27 of Torn
“I promised your dad I’d look out for you when your mom had the accident. You won’t be needing me around much anymore.”
“Oh… I guess you’re right.”
I ruffle her hair and step out of the bathroom; uncomfortable with the feelings I’m having over not spending as much time withher in the future. Why should it matter? She’s just my best friend’s kid that I helped take care of.
In my bedroom, I pull off my shirt and toss it at the laundry basket in the corner, and I’m surprised when I turn around to see her standing in the doorway, still with a sad, worried expression in her eyes.
“Don’t worry about the idiots at school, Kenzi. Just ignore them. What’s left, like two weeks of school?”
“That’s not what I’m thinking about.” She watches me pull clean clothes out of my dresser and lay them out on my bed.
“Then what’s wrong?”
“I never imagined there would be a time when I would see you less. I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you, too, but you can see me anytime you want, or call me. You know where to find me.”
“I hope so.” She sniffles. “I talked to your mom about continuing to volunteer at the shelter, too. She said she would love it. And I want to keep helping you with your rescues, if you still want me to.”
“Of course I do. You can still clean my house after you graduate if you want to, and I’ll still pay you. Nothing has to change, Kenzi. I just figured you’d be moving on, wanting to do different things with your life and not hanging around with me all the time.”
“I like hanging around with you.” The soft tone of her voice, and the way her eyes are roving over my chest is making me feel like all the air has been sucked out of my lungs. My house suddenly feels insanely small and lacking oxygen.
“Then you can. Anytime.” I refuse to let my eyes lock with hers. I don’t want to see what’s there, or what mightnotbe there.
“Good.”
“Actually, there was something else I wanted to ask you but I was going to talk to Ash about it first. But since we’re already talking, I’ll just ask you directly. The girl who works the front register at the shop and greets our customers and books appointments is leaving in September.”
“Gretchen?”
“Yeah. Her husband is getting transferred to Connecticut, so they’re moving. I wanted to ask you if you wanted the job. It doesn’t pay much, but you at least know about bikes and you know—”
“Yes. I want to,” she says without hesitation, before I can finish. “I would love that.”
“You’re sure? It’s not very exciting.”
“I don’t care.”
“I just kinda feel like you’re doing everything for me. The house cleaning, volunteering with my mom, and now this. I don’t want you to think I’m turning you into my own personal assistant.”
Her tongue slides across her bottom lip. “I don’t mind at all. I love all of it.”
I tear my eyes off her mouth and walk across my room to open the window. I need air. Lots of it. Badly.
“Okay, then it’s settled. Now I’m going to take a shower, grab a quick nap, we’ll load the traps, and then I’ll take you home. Sound good?”
“Yes, of course. I made lasagna. I just have to put it in the oven when you’re ready to eat.”
Damn. I figured she would have just blown that idea off, but she really made me dinner. And one of my favorite dishes to boot. When was the last time anyone cooked for me who wasn’t my mother? I can’t remember.
“That sounds great. Wake me up around four and we’ll eat.”
“Okay. I’m going to nap on your couch. I’ll set the alarm onmy phone so we don’t end up sleeping till tomorrow.” She finally smiles at me, some of the sadness in her eyes fading.
I close my door when she leaves, which I’ve never done before. When she stayed here when she was little, she would leave the guest room in the middle of the night, drag about ten stuffed animals and her favorite blanket up onto my bed, and sleep on my king-sized bed with me. I’d usually wake up with a teddy bear or two rammed into my back.
I’m worried with her feeling sad she might try to crawl into my bed with me again.