Page 24 of Enemies in Paradise

If by cute she means tiny, this place definitely has that going for it. I thought the two-bedroom apartment we shared in LA was small, but it’s not the dollhouse I’m standing in now.

I don’t have a problem with small. Small I can work with. But I’m just under six feet tall, so tinyisa problem. I don’t know if I’ll even fit on the bed/couch situation happening here.

After a second scan, I find the one compliment I can. “It’s cleaner than I thought it would be after having a hockey team use it.”

Georgia nods as her eyes travel the room. “Oh, they don’t make much of a mess. It was just really cluttered.”

I raise my eyebrows. They probably don’t make the same amount of mess as the bunch of grown men I originally pictured Bear’s team as. But little boys aren’t much better; I have a brother. I never wanted to use the bathroom after him, and there was only one of him, not an entire team. I’m a little afraid to see—or smell—the bathroom here.

Georgia responds to my eyebrows with a deluge of words, spilling faster than a perp looking for immunity. “Bear’s not messy. He picks up after himself, but he likes stuff and isn’t always good about organizing it. That’s why the shop looks the way it does. Between him and his dad, Pete, they collect a lot of junk.”

She nods toward the metal door leading straight from the shop to the studio. Bear is on the other side of it with Adam and Evie “organizing” his “stuff” on that side. His voice travels through the cinderblock wall separating us. I can’t make out his words, but they rumble like distant thunder, making his presence known.

Suddenly, there’s a loud crash of metal hitting cement, followed by a crack of thunder that makes me jump.

That thunder is Bear.

“Don’t touch the car! I’ll take care of it!” His words come through loud and clear now, and both Georgia and I stare at the wall.

I don’t know what she’s expecting, but I’m waiting for Bear to hulk out and burst through the wall.

Seconds of silence pass before Georgia finally says, “Heidi going downhill so quickly is getting to him. He never yells like that.”

Or he’s upset his family is taking my side in the War of the Auto Sh,I think, but that’s not what I say.

“Who’s Heidi?” I make my voice as quiet as Georgia’s.

“His mom. My mother-in-law. She’s got a progressive form of early-onset Alzheimer’s. We just had to hire a full-time nurse for her. Before that, Bear and Britta were splitting most of the work taking care of her.” Georgia presses her lips together, but we both keep our eyes on the wall. “He’s feeling kind of lost these days.”

“Oh.” Maybe that’s why he’s been such a jerk to me, even though everyone keeps insisting he’s sweet. Maybe it’s not about me at all.

“So, would he want to keep the car in the shop? I mean until we close.” He’ll already be around when his team practices, so it wouldn’t hurt to let Bear be here a little more often. I don’t hate the idea. “Obviously he can’t leave the Mustang there once renovations start, but if working on it takes his mind off his mom…”

I end with a shrug. How do you make things better for someone whose mom is dying?

Georgia sends me a look that makes me wonder if she’s surprised I’m showing some empathy. She’s teased more than once that the only thing that could make me cry is if the Dodgers won the World Series, and those would be tears of joy. I don’t cryover sad things. If I did, I’d be crying all the time. I’ve seen too much.

“That’s really nice, Cass. I’ll let him know that’s an option.” She points to a door in the corner of the rectangular room, near the daybed. “Let me show you the bathroom.”

I follow her, trying to decide if I’m actually smelling urine or if the thought of this place full of little boys has put the thought in my head. I’m holding my breath, but I let it out in a small gasp when she opens the door to reveal a shoebox size bathroom.

The tiny sink could fit in my old Barbie house. I’ll have to crouch in the shower to get under the head, and the toilet is so close to the door that I don’t know how I’ll close it while doing my business.

“It’s small, I know, but once the store is up and running, maybe you look at a new place. Or even making this one bigger.” Georgia squeezes into the bathroom while I stand at the door. “Grandpa and Grandma Sparks lived here for the first couple of years they were married. Seb’s dad, Mike, was born here.”

I try to hide my shock, but the worried look on her face tells me I’ve failed. I do succeed in holding back my observation that I’m taller than Grandpa Sparks.

“At least it doesn’t smell like pee,” I say with a forced smile.

A small V forms between her brows. “Why would it smell like pee?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because an entire hockey team has been using it for… I don’t know how long.” I realize I have no idea when Bear started coaching his team. Could be years, which would make the smell even worse.

I step back to let Georgia out of the bathroom, then step inside.

“They’re kids, not animals. They know how to flush,” she says with a laugh.

“It’s not the flushing I’m worried about,” I mumble to her back as she walks to the kitchen while I inspect the floor for yellow stains.

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