Page 36 of Unexpected Heroine

Good job, giant. Go on, now. Get! And take your little boss friend with you.

Dang it. He ain’t takin’ him.

Through the windowpane, I barely make out what he says as he slips into the car. Well wishes, it seems. That’s nice.

As I play back what I think I heard, one word stands out above the rest.

Tomer.

Did he say that? What does that mean? And why does it ring a bell in the foggy recess of my mind?

Oh well. No matter. I probably misunderstood him. At least I heard enough to know that his coworkers aren’t still pissed at him.

And now it looks like James and his boss are having a heart-to-heart talk.

Sumbitch. Hurry up before I lose my shit.

On the bright side, it’s nice to see James getting support from these guys. They seem nice enough, even if they are of the male species. I appreciated the little wave and kind smile Big Al shot my way earlier.

Having chewed my thumbnail to the nub, I switch to the other hand.

I need another distraction before I rip my nails clean off my fingers.

Run free, thoughts. Run free.

“Square dancing,” I mutter aloud when no other distraction presents itself.

Maybe it wasn’t a drunk llama who came up with the curriculum. If I think about it, there are two obvious suspects. Both of whom have their faces plastered on a billboard smack dab in the middle of town. Leigh Ann and Duane Jordan, the Climax square dancing champs. If anyone was behind this travesty, it’s them.

Well, I hope they’re happy. Instead of self-defense, I learned the pass through and allemande.

Can you imagine if I’d have thought to use those skills to fight off my attackers this weekend?

Good luck trying to catch me while I promenade and roll away to a half sashay.

Apparently, my ADHD squirrel has settled into the driver’s seat of my mind and is taking it out for a spin in la-la land—not the musical.

All in all, I can’t complain about the distractions. It’s far more pleasant to visualize crazy shit like fictitious school board meetings than to relive real-life shit like waking up naked in a dirty room with my arms in chains.

Score one for squirrels and llamas.

Oh goodie. Looks like they’re wrapping it up.

Finally. Freaking finally.

A chill ghosts its way down my spine. My feet lurch me three inches off the ground as I’m zapped with a jolt of fear. Shit. It was only the air conditioning kicking on and blasting cool air from the vent over me.

Nonetheless, that’s officially enough alone time for Lettie today.

Before I realize what’s happening, I’m cracking open the front door and poking my head out. Instantly, a wall of heat and humidity smacks me in my face.

The scalding Florida afternoon heat won’t stop me, though.

Despite walking into an oven humidifier combo, I inch farther outside. The pull to be close to James is too strong to resist, especially with the chill creeping around behind me. Metaphorically and physically.

It’s an odd feeling as I wait for him to turn around. Fear of staying alone in the house battles it out with fear of going outside or getting too close to the men. Even if they’re leaving and James is there.

I’m not brave enough.

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