He grunts in surprise. "And you didn't kill him?"
"Held back."
"Good." He nods. We've had many talks over the years about my lack of self-control and the fights I've gotten into.
"She defended me to her father." I didn't realize it until now, but she was taking my side against her father and brother.
"Also a good sign. Sherry and I had our troubles in the beginning too."
"I know. I read the book." I hold it up and flip through the pages.
"The book didn't cover the most important part."
"There's stuff that's not in your autobiography?"
"I kept our deepest secrets private. There was a week in a hunting cabin in California I never told anyone about." He winks at me.
"What happened in the cabin?"
He smiles and looks out over the balcony. "We fought, we fucked, we decided to stay together no matter what."
That makes me laugh. "It worked."
"We stayed together. Ups and downs. I was an asshole. We fought like crazy, but I loved that woman till the day she died. Miss her."
"I know."
"I'll see her on the other side soon."
"Don't talk like that."
He takes the book from my hands and rubs her picture again. "Someday you'll see what I mean. You won't want to be on this earth if she's left it."
Okay. That's enough. I can't handle anymore love talk from Henry today. I stand up and give him a hug. "I'm gonna get some food. I'll bring you something. Thanks for the talk." It makes me uncomfortable, but he's usually right on things.
"Here for you anytime." His hand feels fragile when he grasps my arm and looks me in the eye. "You're not alone, understand me? I'm here for you."
I gently squeeze his hand. "Appreciate it. Hoping someday I can pay it forward."
"You sitting on this balcony making me think back to the fishing cabin and getting Sherry to promise me forever? That's paying it forward. Can't think of anything better I'd want from any of my kids. Bring me her memories. Let me be young and so in love I couldn't keep my hands off her. Best days of my life. Well, apart from our wedding, my kids, and meeting you. Thank you, son."
Again with the son. I'm not sure how to express it all back. It's too jumbled in my head. Maybe I don't need to say anything. He wants someone to listen to him and appreciate his words. And I do.
I hug his slender frame. He pats my shoulder and grips my hand in an upright shake.
***
Late Sunday night, I'm sitting in my apartment and a text comes through from her brother. Now I'm regretting giving that asshole my number before the last fight.
Donnie: Need a favor, bud.
I am not his buddy. Not at all. But I'll play along to see what he's aiming for.
Me: What kind?
Donnie: Deliver some packages for me.
Oh shit. He's dragging me into something. It's got to be a set up.
Me: I'm not an errand boy.
Donnie: My father wants to see if you can earn his trust.
What? His father wants me to deliver packages for Donnie? To earn trust?
It's shady as hell but damn, this is my chance. I want to know what Donnie is shipping and how his father treats people he trusts.
Me: What's my cut?
Donnie: 10%.
Me: Fuck that.
Donnie: 15%
Me: 50% or nothing.
Nothing from him for a few minutes. He's probably shitting his pants because he wants to deliver for his dad but doesn't want to give me half of his profits.
Donnie: I'll text you the details.
Yes. I'm not sure what just happened, but if Henry is right, she needs me. Donnie's offering me an in. Her dad is interested in me. I gotta take it and see where it goes.
Chapter 6 Fairy Lights
Mila
Sunflower fairy lights hang from my bedroom ceiling in row after row of long, dangling strands. Bumblebee lights mingle between them. It took me forever to put them up today. I used removable hooks so my dad wouldn't accuse me of ruining his ceiling.
Cello music plays softly in the background, not too loud so I don't anger my father. The music mashes up modern love songs with classical style. It should be a relaxing evening, but it's not. I can't stop crying. I'm stuck in this room and no amount of lights can take away the dark.
Tap-tap-tap.
I sit up in my bed and stiffen at the noise. What was that?
Tap-tap-tap.
It's my balcony window. Someone's here.
They're here to get me.
They found me.
This house doesn't have an alarm.
My heart gallops like a panicked mare.
What do I do?
I need a weapon.
Looking around, all I have is a few figurines, but in the bathroom I have sharp stuff.
I grab a razor and my spiral curling iron and run back to the door.
Tap-tap-tap.
Gripping my weapons like blades, I slide the sheer curtain to the side, and peek outside to see who is there to kill me.
"Mila," a tall shadowy figure says in a hushed voice.
Mila? That's what my mom used to call me.
"It's me." Pretty white teeth and a dimpled chin smile down at me.
Oh my goodness. It's Foster.
The Unstoppable Foster Dunham.
Holy cow.
My heart breaks into a full-force run.
I have to hold the razor in the same palm with the curling iron to work the door unlocked. It creaks open and the salty ocean air wafts into my room. "What are you doing here?" I'm loud whispering at him. He can't be here. This is crazy.
"Just thought I'd say hello." He turns his torso sideways to slip through the door and stares at my light display.
He leans back and puts his hands in the pockets of his brown leather jacket. "Cool." My first instinct is to check him for new bruises. The old ones are fading and I don't see anything new. Maybe Donnie didn't follow through on Dad's order to visit Foster. Donnie's probably too chicken to stand up to Foster anyway.
"People don't usually come over the balcony and knock on the window to just say hello."
"I did. You let me in." Gah! He's so cocksure and unfazed by everything.
He walks through the sunflower curtain over to the built-in shelf along the wall. His fingers caress a figurine I bought today at the beach. "What's this?"
"It's a pink poodle."
"Is it yours?"
"Yes."
"Kinda ugly."
"It's not ugly. It's cute."
He saunters over to the next item on the shelf. A framed picture of a woman at the finish line of the marathon portion of a triathlon.
"Is this you?" he asks.
"No."
"Who is it?"
"The winner of the Montauk Triathlon."
His head whips around to make eye contact with me. "Did you enter?"
"No."
"Hmm." He makes a noise that sounds like sarcastic surprise.
When he's done inspecting the small amount of personal items I have here at the summer house, he turns back to me. He's relaxed, like he doesn't care that my dad or brother could discover him at any moment.