Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73208 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73208 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
“Who is that?” she signed, not moving.
I put my hand on her back and began pushing her toward her room as I scanned the one we were in for any sign of a teenage girl. “I think she’s the grandmother of one of those dangerous guys or all of them, but she was nice to me. She’s who took care of me and got the doctor to stitch me up. She’s here to check on me. That’s all. Stay hidden.”
Dovie didn’t look convinced, but she nodded, then went into her room.
“Lock the door,” I called out when she closed the door.
When I heard the click of the lock, I hurried back to the living room and did a quick check of things. I grabbed a pair of Dovie’s fluffy pink socks and stuffed them under the sofa, although those could have been mine. After straightening the throw over the chair, I ran my hands through my hair just as the doorbell rang.
This was fine. She wasn’t here to search my apartment. She was checking on me. I took a deep breath and forced myself to relax before going to open the door.
Maeme stood on the other side with a basket in one hand and a friendly smile. “Good morning,” she said, stepping past me to come inside. “I came to check on the patient and bring some baked goods. There’s also a container of my chicken salad and fresh croissants, along with a cucumber pasta salad.”
She’d brought me food.
A real smile curled my lips as I looked at the basket and back to her face. “Thank you. That’s so kind of you.”
“You’re welcome. Now, let me see that shoulder,” she said, walking over to the end table in the living room and setting the basket down. “I know Drew is gonna check on it in a week, but I didn’t want you leaving last night, as you well know. I wasn’t gonna be able to rest my mind until I laid eyes on you and made sure you were okay. I also brought you some eight-hundred-milligram ibuprofen for the pain. They won’t make you feel all drugged, but they will kill the pain. I suspect you’re hurting real bad this morning.”
She was moving my shirt over and pulling back the bandage as she spoke. I stood there and let her because I didn’t imagine many people argued with this woman.
“Looks good. But then Drew is the best,” she said, stepping back from me. “Now, let me take this food to the kitchen. I’ll put the cold stuff away and fix you some breakfast. The blueberry muffins in here are nice and warm still.”
She started in the direction of the kitchen. “This way?” she asked, not slowing down.
“Uh, yes,” I replied, then hurried after her. I hadn’t checked the kitchen for things that might be Dovie’s.
“Looks like you made some fresh coffee. I hope you like yours strong. I need me a cup too. I prefer it to be thick enough to eat with a spoon.” She laughed. “Not really, but that’s what Gabriel, that was my husband, used to say about my coffee. He liked his weak for such a powerful man.”
The box of Lucky Charms sat on the counter, along with the strawberry Pop-Tarts that were Dovie’s favorite. But adults ate those things too. It wasn’t a real clue that I didn’t live alone.
Maeme picked up the Pop-Tarts and looked at me disapprovingly before setting them back down. “This is not real food. I’m glad I brought you some muffins if this is what you were gonna eat. Even my apple pie is better than eating this.”
She tsked, then opened the basket and began to unload all the things she’d mentioned, along with some cupcakes, cookies, pound cake, and what looked like banana pudding. Dovie was going to think she’d died and gone to heaven with all this.
“Maeme,” I said in disbelief. “This is a lot. You didn’t have to do all this.”
“Are you going to eat it?” she asked me.
“Yes,” I replied quickly.
“Then, that’s what matters. I like to cook and make food for others. Lord knows you could eat some more food. If you’re eating Pop-Tarts and still that skinny, you must have a hell of a metabolism.”
I hadn’t touched a Pop-Tart in years, but I wasn’t telling her that. Just like I couldn’t eat all the sweets she’d brought. Although I was tasting one of everything before Dovie enjoyed it all.
Maeme opened the fridge and put the salads inside. She didn’t seem to notice the strawberry milk, sodas, the M&M’s yogurt, string cheese, and Lunchables that Dovie loved. She was going to think I had the appetite of a child.
When she straightened and closed the door to the fridge, she looked around at the cabinets. “Now, we just need coffee cups.”