The Dark Light of Day Page 29


What the hell is going on?

Jake said nothing to me as he waited for Miss Thornton to get out of her car. When she met up with us, clipboard in hand, Jake led us down the side of the building on a small concrete sidewalk and to a dark wooden door, almost hidden between two overgrown potted palms. He unclipped a set of keys from his belt loop and unlocked the door, stepping to the side to let us both in.

Once inside I realized this must have been the apartment Jake had told me about when we met in the yard last night. It wasn’t shop-like at all. It was small and clean and cozy. The floors were a simple beige tile, the walls a creamy yellow. Off to the right was a small galley-style kitchen with plain white cabinets with little plastic dolphins for knobs. The appliances were small and white but looked fairly new. The counter tops were covered in small, dark blue tiles with thick white grout lines. There was an overhang on one side where two wooden barstools were tucked under it. Behind it was a small area that looked like it was designated for a dining room table but instead sat a small iron desk and a laptop.

Jake turned on every light switch he passed as he walked Miss Thornton through the apartment, but it did little to brighten the dark space.

There was another door through the kitchen, and Jake opened it for Miss Thornton. She disappeared inside and quickly came back out, scribbling furiously on her clipboard. I was standing in the center of the living room with my backpack still on my shoulders. Jake leaned against the counter as Miss Thornton ran down a list of questions. “Own or rent?”

“Neither. My father owns the automotive repair company, and I use the apartment while I’m in town.”

“How long are you in town for?”

“I’ll stay until Abby turns eighteen, but I do travel for my own work, so there will be times when I’m gone for a while here and there.” His answers were simple and direct. Miss Thornton nodded as they went along.

“I expect you to take this seriously, Mr. Dunn. Miss Ford is under your care now.”

“I take it very seriously, ma’am.”

She turned her attention back to me. “Your home seems to have only one bedroom. Where will Miss Ford be sleeping?”

“In my room,” Jake answered. He realized how that sounded when Miss Thornton looked at him suspiciously, and he quickly corrected himself. “Oh, no—not like that. The living room couch pulls out, so that’s where I’ll be.”

She nodded. “I assumed that with you being cousins and all that sharing a room is out of the question.”

“Of course, ma’am.” Jake flashed her a brilliant smile. He really could turn on the charm when he wanted to.

Miss Thornton seemed satisfied with his answers. She tucked her clipboard under her arm and turned to leave, informing us of a follow-up visit in the next few weeks. She smiled, opened the door, and disappeared into the bright light of day, leaving us alone in the dark apartment.

Jake looked much too large for the little kitchen as he leaned against the counter and twiddled his keys in his hands.

“What the fuck just happened?” I asked. “You told Miss Thornton that you were my cousin and that I could stay with you?”

“Yes.” He smiled and moved over to the couch where he plopped down and put his feet up on the coffee table. His heavy boots thudded against the wood.

“Why?”

He pushed a stray hair behind his ear, shrugged his shoulders, looked me dead in the eye and said, “I don’t know.”

At that moment, it didn’t really matter why he had helped. All that mattered is that he’d saved me from foster care—or, more likely, he had saved me from prison.

“Thank you.” The words were hard for me to say. I hadn’t said them much in my life. “I don’t know why you did it, but I’m glad you did.” I pushed both straps of my bag over my shoulder and started for the door.

“Where are you going?” Jake asked. He stood up from the couch and blocked the door. He towered over me, his presence as intimidating as the bike he rode.

“I’m leaving.” I really didn’t want to have to remind him that his lie had helped me out of foster care, but it still left me homeless. I had to go back and see if I could salvage some of Nan’s stuff, to see if there was anything worth selling.

“Why are you leaving?”

I fidgeted with my hands and looked at the floor. “I gotta go figure some stuff out I guess.”

“Like what?”

“Well, what you told Miss Thornton will get her off my ass for a while, but I still have to figure where I’m going to live. I figure I can sell some of Nan’s stuff for a bus ticket to a place more inland, where the hotels are less expensive.” I hated saying that I had nowhere to go. It made it all even more real. Jake already knew all of it, between sleeping in the junkyard and seeing the state of Nan’s, but that didn’t make it any less embarrassing.

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