She adds, “I should ask—are you even okay staying here?” Charlotte looks like a sad puppy, eyes hopeful that someone will make her a permanent part of their life. As much as I don’t want to be in her presence, her digs are way nicer than mine.
At the apartment, I’d be sleeping on the floor on the mushy mattress. Diane refuses to let me sleep in her bed. I tried it once when she was gone all night. That was a mistake I’ll never repeat. She dragged me out by my hair and gave me a backhand slap across the face. I had an ugly bruise for a week.
I never did that again.
I know the boys are with Sandra and they’re taken care of. At this point, I’m tired, and I just want to lie down. The idea of her comfy sofa and the warm fireplace sounds better than good. Charlotte must notice my lids droop because she quickly adds, “Is there anything you need before bed?”
“A toothbrush?”
“Yes, absolutely. Second drawer on the left in the bathroom. There should be an unopened one.”
“Can I use that blanket to curl up with on the couch?”
“Seriously?” As she stares at me like I’ve grown two heads, her eyes flash angrily. Oh shit, did I commit a faux pas? I’m not expected to sleep in bed with her and guard her during the night, am I? “You’re not sleeping on the couch, Elle.” She points upstairs. “My master suite’s down here, but upstairs there’s a perfectly good guest room. And you already saw the views.” She continues, “The bathroom you used last time has a toothbrush, toothpaste, and towels. Everything you need is up there.”
“Great, thanks.”
“Do you need to charge your phone or have me set an alarm?” She looks at the clock. “What time do you need to get up, and when do we need to leave for class?”
“If you don’t mind me taking a shower here, I’ll just set my alarm for six forty-five, and if we leave by seven thirty, we should be good.”
“Will that give us enough time for breakfast?” She tilts her head. “You have to eat on a more consistent basis, Elle.”
It must come out harsher than she intends, and she pats my shoulder gently. “We both need to make sure we are giving our babies the proper nutrients. Breakfast is an important meal.”
I shake my head in response. “I know.”
Her white bandage starts to turn red as she gestures with her hands.
“Charlotte?”
“Yes?”
“You better change that.” I point to her wound. “It’s bleeding.”
Groaning, she cradles her hand. “Good night, Elle.”
I trudge up the stairs, pausing to watch as Charlotte double- and triple-checks to make sure the doors and windows are locked. An alarm system I didn’t notice before, since it’s tucked behind a corner wall, lets out a shrill beep.
Too tired to even bother washing my face, I brush my teeth and snuggle into what appear to be five-hundred-thread-count sheets and a cozy down comforter, waking up too soon from the best sleep of my life.
CHAPTER 28
Charlotte
I knock on Elle’s door after she’s hit the snooze button a third time.
“Go away,” she grumbles. I take it she must not be a morning person.
“Absolutely not,” I say in a singsong voice. “It’s time to rise and shine.”
“I’ve never understood that expression.”
“Is it okay for me to enter the room?”
“I’m not decent!” she yells.
“Elle, I’m giving you ten seconds to open the door,” I warn. “Ten, nine, eight, seven, six . . .”
“Okay, okay, come in.”
I open the door.
“How did you know?” Elle shoves the pillow off her face.
“That if I didn’t come in, you’d go back to sleep? I was young once.” I click my tongue at her. “Do you want me to sing to you? My mother used to wake me up by jumping on my bed.”
Elle moans, “She did not.”
“Yep, but I’m not going to do the same to you. I’ll dump a glass of water on you first.”
Mumbling, she squeezes the pillowcase over her face. “You wouldn’t dare. I’ve never been a morning person, and, coupled with this insanely comfortable bed and no caffeine, I’m a lazy zombie with an attitude problem.”
“Come on, Elle. Breakfast awaits.” I toss the pillow aside and hear a grumble rise from her stomach in protest. After I push back the gossamer curtains, the sun shines in. I stare out the window and motion to the lake. “My room has a walk-out patio with the same view.” I’m dressed in all-black sweats and a hoodie, my hair in a messy bun. I’ve removed the bandages from my hands, but you can see the jagged red gash across both of my palms.
“So, you’re going to stand here?”
“Until you get up.”
“I’m not wearing much.”
I cross my arms. “I’ll turn my back.”
Sighing dramatically, Elle sits up and tosses a flowered throw pillow at me. In the glass, I see what she wore to bed. “Kansas State, eh?” She’s wearing a Kansas State shirt with a wildcat on the front, ready to pounce.
“Yeah, thanks, I found it in your drawer.”
“Willie the Wildcat.” I rearrange the decorative pillow back on the bed. “Best times of my life.”
“Is that where you met your husband?”
“Uh-huh,” I say, smiling. “So you can see why it holds a special place in my heart.”
I notice her phone’s blowing up on the nightstand, and I wonder if it’s Diane or her ex-boyfriend.
“Hurry,” I say to her, “so you have time to eat breakfast before school.”
I close the door behind me to give her some privacy. After waiting for the sound of the shower, I reenter, and my hand grips her phone. It’s locked, but the message still shows a name and the first part.
Justin: We need to talk.
A second one comes through from him: Need ride to visit dad today?
Dad?
I thought her father was dead.
Does she have a stepfather?
But she said she has no one but Diane . . .
The water shuts off, and quietly I back out of the room, shutting the door gently behind me. Then I busy myself in the kitchen making Elle a sack lunch, my hands trembling.
I decide to cook her some breakfast, and because I’m distracted I first burn a slice of toast. Starting over, I scramble some eggs and replace the blackened toast.
She sniffs the air when she enters the room. “You burn something?”
“Yes, but I’m not making you eat blackened toast. I did a do-over.” I point the spatula to the table. “Have a seat—I made breakfast.”
She gives me a glowing smile, and I realize that in spite of everything, pregnancy suits her. “Thanks.”
I feel bad, noticing she’s dressed in her clothes from the night before. “Do you want something else to wear?”
“No, I’m okay.” She shrugs. “I only have one class today, and I didn’t wear this yesterday to school.”
“Do you need a ride home after?”
“Thanks, but I have one.” She takes a bite of toast. “Thank you for breakfast.” I pour her some orange juice as she swallows another forkful.