Page 5 of Cooper

“I’ve lived here for four days. So, no. But I am talking to the owner about having something installed.” She says, hair up in a ponytail, in her fluffy, two-piece pyjamas with a kitten pattern, looking as adorable as hell.

“Look, I know it's none of my business, but you've got yourself a place on the wrong side of town, I'm afraid.”

“It's what I could afford. And the landlord did not make me sign a lease, so I’m welcome to give him a month’s notice, should I want to move out.” She explains, moving to the side, giving me room to come in, which sort of shocks me. I figured she'd tell me it was late. Plus, I hope she doesn't get into the habit of letting strangers into her house at even stranger hours.

“Can't say I blame you there. I pay next to nothing for rent in exchange for keeping the landscape maintained, doing the odd fix here and there.”

“But you’re a teacher. Don’t you make good money doing that?”

I smile, noting that she’s already got a Christmas tree up, even though she said herself that she’s lived here for four days. “You’d be surprised how little a music teacher makes. But I love it, and daddy always says that it doesn’t matter how much money y’all make, so long as you’re happy.”

“What does your daddy do?” She asks, pulling two mugs out of the cupboard, not bothering to ask if I want something. It’s like she’s doing it by rote, or out of pure exhaustion.

“He’s a carpenter.”

“Well, then, he probably loves what he does. Nobody I’ve ever known went into a trade without loving it first.”

Suddenly, I just blurt it out. “How come Stella’s not your real name?”

Her back is to me. I can see her gaze go downcast, like she’s ashamed.

“You in some kind of trouble?” I ask, concern laced in my tone.

She nods, but her back is still to me. “You could say that.”

I’m not sure if she’s going to expand, so I test the waters, and try to dig a little. “You married?” I ask, in a ‘level with me’ voice.

“Divorced.” She says, so low I almost can’t hear her. “What about you? Although, I don’t imagine you’re married, otherwise I’d hear your wife pounding on my door in about the next ten seconds.”

I notice that she hasn’t got a southern accent, but I don’t dare ask where she’s from. She’s definitely not from the Carolinas. “No, I’m not married. Never have been. I’ve lived alone all my adult life.”

“Kids?”

I frown, shaking my head. “Nope. Although my mama keeps telling me that my life would be complete if I had a wife and some kids. Even though my brother’s got four of them, and my sister’s got two.”

“Six grandchildren.” She observes, as the kettle comes to boil, and she pours the water into two awaiting mugs, with tea bags in them. I watch her bring the mugs to the table, and then she goes into the fridge, bringing out a small pitcher of milk, adding it to the little tray on the two-seater table, with a sugar bowl and spoon. Stella adds a teaspoon full of sugar to her tea, and a drop of milk. I follow suit, doing the same.

I change the subject. “Can you at least tell me what your real name is?”

I detect a weak smile in her eyes. “It’s London.” A pause and loss of eye contact. “But you can’t ever call me that in public.”

Something about her sharing that makes my heart ache. “That’s a beautiful name. How come you’re using Stella?”

A swallow. “I can’t tell you that, Cooper. I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

I lift a hand. “It’s okay, darlin’. I’m not here to give you trouble.”

Her head cocks slightly. “Then why are you here?” But she’s not asking in a negative tone, it’s just out of curiosity.

I take a moment to think about how to answer. “I was worried. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” Another pause. “When I figured out that you were using an alias, it hit home. Never knew anyone that did that for real before.”

She nods.

“Do your folks know where you are?”

“My folks are dead. I don’t have any family except for Bean.”

“I’m…sorry to hear that.” I cover my hand over hers, expecting her to flinch, but she doesn’t. “Were y’all close?”

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