Killian Read online

  – and not the kind of quiet that I like, the kind that’s usually comforting. This quiet is the kind of quiet that just feels. . . empty.

  It’s the opposite of being at Lily’s, wearing a silver cape and makeup and playing the part of a magic dragon.

  That’s the last thought I have before I fall asleep.

  28

  Lily

  “I’m off of school today, Nana,” Chloe says loudly to the phone.

  My parents complain they don’t get enough video chatting time with her on the phone, which really means that we don’t call every single night before Chloe goes to bed.

  “You have a day off? Today isn’t a holiday.”

  “She doesn’t have a day off of school, mom,” I say loudly from the other side of the room. I pull open the refrigerator door and take out the carton of orange juice. “She’s sick. Sort of.”

  “I have a sore throat,” Chloe notifies her grandmother. “And I had the sniffles. But they’re gone now.”

  “I’m starting to think the day off school was a mistake,” I say over my shoulder as I fill a plastic cup with orange juice. I set it on the table in front of Chloe, standing behind her and peering into the phone at my mother’s image on the video feed. My mother is in her housecoat – not a bathrobe, but one of those oversized terrycloth dresses with a zipper up the middle and pink flamingos and hibiscuses printed on it. Her brown hair is still in rollers and she’s sipping from an oversized mug of coffee. “Where’s dad?”

  “He’s outside. He decided to replace the fence on the far side of the house.”

  “At six in the morning?”

  “You know your father.” She rolls her eyes as she sips her coffee. “He’s retired. He has to have a project.”

  “But a fence? Really? Does he even know how to build a fence anymore?”

  “Of course he does. Don’t be ridiculous. You do recall your childhood, right? Growing up on the farm? Your father didn’t forget how to put up a fence just because we wound up moving to the suburbs when you were in high school.”

  “I haven’t forgotten, mom. I’m just saying it’s been a while since he’s put up a fence.”

  She waves dismissively. “It’s like riding a bike. Shouldn’t you be at the bakery already? I don’t like you working so much, you know.”

  I laugh. “You don’t like me working so much, but you’re reminding me that I should be at work?”

  “Just because I don’t like it, doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t fulfill your responsibilities. What are you doing today, Chloe? Is Bethany babysitting you?”

  “I’m seven now, Nana.”

  I snort. “Seven years old is not grown up, Chloe. You still need a babysitter. And yes, Bethany will be here in fifteen minutes. And then I’ll be going to work, alright?”

  “You know, your father and I are only three hours away.”

  “You’re four hours away.”

  “Not the way your father drives.”

  Chloe cuts in. “Come play with me, Nana!”

  “Your father and I could be there by eleven,” she insists.

  “She’s sick, mom," I remind her. "You and dad don’t need to catch whatever virus she has.”

  “I feel fine!” Chloe yells.

  “If you feel fine, you should be going to school today.”

  “I don’t want to go to school!”

  “You’re staying with Bethany. That’s all there is to it. Nana and Pop-Pop are not driving down today. You’re going to go to their house for a whole week when school is over anyway.”

  Chloe faces the phone. “Will we have ice cream?”

  “Of course we’ll have ice cream,” my mother assures her. “And we’ll go to the playground – and the pool. Oh, and our neighbor has a little boy your age, Adrian, that you can play with.”

  Chloe groans. “I don’t want to play with a boy.”

  “Since when?” my mother asks. “You’re best friends with one of the boys in your class.”

  “He’s not my best friend.”

  “You said he was your boyfriend.”

  “He’s a friend who’s a boy. Like mommy’s boyfriend.”

  I clear my throat, hoping my mother missed the last part of what Chloe just said, the little rat. “All right, it’s almost time for Bethany to get here, Chloe. Eat your cereal. Mom, I have to finish getting dressed.”

  “Oh no, you don’t get to avoid this conversation. Who’s your boyfriend?”

  “I don’t have a boyfriend, mother. I’m not sixteen years old.”

  My mother snorts. “I’m all too aware that you’re not sixteen. And that you’ve not had a boyfriend in about as many years.”

  “Okay, this is not a conversation we’re going to have right now.”

  “Who’s mommy’s boyfriend, Chloe?”

  “No one, mother.”

  “He’s a boy friend,” Chloe says, emphasizing each word. “He let me do his makeup.”

  “Oh, really? His makeup, huh?”

  “Is that the doorbell?” I ask. “Tell Nana you’ll talk to her later, Chloe.”

  “Don’t worry – I’ll ask you about this friend later, Lily.”

  “Goodbye, mom.”

  I definitely don’t have a boyfriend. I may not even have a boy friend, either, the way the night ended with Killian. I didn’t want him here when Chloe woke up, sure, but I probably could have found a more eloquent way of putting it than the way I did. I need to read a dating book or something: Ten Easy Ways To Kick A Guy Out Of Your House After Sex So Your Kid Doesn’t See Him.

  Having my mind go completely blank and then stumbling over my words trying to explain why I was asking Killian to leave was definitely not my finest hour. I blame the sex, though. How was I supposed to be able to rationally and clearly articulate anything after my mind had turned completely into mush? The orgasms made me stupid.

  On my way to work, I glance at my phone. Should I text him? Oh God, are there rules for texting after sex? What’s that wait-three-days rule? Is that for after sex or after a date? We haven’t even had a date, so maybe the dating rules don’t apply.

  Paralyzed by indecision, I just don’t text him at all.

  Opal hands me an espresso the minute I reach the counter. “You look like you need this.” She rings up a customer and busies herself making his coffee.

  “Mmm. Yes, please. Do you have anything stronger?” I’m not sure if I need several shots of espresso or several shots of alcohol.

  “I think there might be a bottle of something behind one of the containers in the refrigerator.”

  “You’re keeping booze in my fridge, Opal?”

  “Only for emergencies. Although six-thirty in the morning seems a little early. Besides, I’d think you’d be in a better mood.” She hands the man his latte. “Careful, it’s hot.”

  “Why would you think that?” I hiss.

  Opal shrugs and blinks her eyes innocently. “I might have heard that Killian was bringing some soup to your house last night.”

  “You heard.”

  “It’s a small town. Rumors fly.”

  “Rumors? Are you kidding?” I whisper. “How did anyone find out? Oh my God. Killian talked to you? Did he tell you?”

  “Tell me what? That you two…”

  “Yes, that we, you know.”

  “Girl, you’d make a terrible spy. You’d spill your guts in thirty seconds.”

  “Good thing I’m not trying to be a spy.”

  Opal chortles. “That’s not what I heard from Chloe.”

  “I need to talk to her about telling stories to her classmates.”

  “Killian didn’t tell me anything, so relax. CJ told me.”

  “CJ from the restaurant? How does she know?” Panic bubbles up in my chest. West Bend is really so damn small that everyone knows everything about everyone, isn’t it?

  “She knows he bought soup. He went there for it. She’d already closed up, but she was there cleaning and Killian paid her extra to open