Page 33 of Sweet and Salty

“They’re footing the bill,” Rory replies. “I talked to Clara.”

Laura shakes her head. Her hair is tied back in another one of her rainbow-colored headscarves, and the gray T-shirt she’s wearing has “Running On” and the chemical compound for sugar printed on it in bright pink. She looks incredible and has barely glanced my way in the past three hours. So much for thinking we had a moment last night. Was it wise to sleep in her room? No. Is it wise to ruminate over it for hours while cleaning out my house with her siblings? Also no.

Check ten thousand on the list of Jesse’s Bad Decisions.

Rory cracks his back and stares out of the house to check on his son. “At least these steps are holding up.”

“Only because you helped me with them,” I say, picking up a large pile of my soggy clothes and putting them into a trash bag. There is a laundromat south of here. I’ll take them there and dry them.

“We have to get out of here,” Frannie says. “Mom’s expecting us for dinner. Are you coming, Jesse? Laura can give you a lift.”

“No.” I have zero intentions of spending another Sunday evening seeing everything I’ve ever wanted and knowing I will never have it. I’m not exactly a masochist. “I thought I’d try to revive these in the laundromat down in Appleton and maybe get a hotel for the night while I figure out my next move.” I also have no idea what that next move should be.

“Stop.” Laura picks up my trash bag full of clothes and carries it down to my truck. “Get in the car and drive over to my house. You’ll stay in the apartment over the garage. The keys are under the dead African violet.”

“It’s dead?!” Frannie says in mock frustration. “Laura, I thought you would take better care of my gift.”

Laura rolls her eyes, the amusement in her infectious. I want to be the one making her smile. “It’s not my fault I’m better with animals than plants, Frannie.” She turns to me, her genuine enthusiasm rolling off her in waves. “Make yourself at home.”

Hmm. It solves a number of problems for me, not the least of which is wondering if the roads from here to Appleton are even passable. I don’t really have money for a hotel for more than one night, and though I am a DIY newbie, I’m pretty certain it takes longer than a few hours to fix a roof.

Besides, this time Laura is asking me for herself. It isn’t a sideways invitation from her brother. Like a damned fool, I can’tstay away from her. Maybe this proximity will be enough to feed my addiction. Or cure it.

“Okay.” I run my hand through my hair and don’t miss the glint of amusement in her eyes. I haven’t realized I did it that often, but I like that she notices. “Thank you, Laura. I really appreciate everything you and your family are doing for me.”

“Oh, yeah.” Frannie loops an arm around her sister’s shoulders and bumps a hip with hers. “Laura is just being neighborly.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Jesse

Spoiler alert.

Moving into the apartment over Laura’s garage does absolutely nothing to lessen my attraction to her. Why I thought it would is yet another in a very long line of lies I tell myself to get through the day.

The entire apartment is like a miniature version of Laura’s house. It’s all fuzzy, overstuffed throw pillows, and deep, cozy couch cushions. The cupboards are painted a cozy off-white, in a glossy paint that glows with evening light. Thick flannel and fleece blankets hang over the couch and the end of the bed, and tea lights in hand-painted holders decorate the coffee and bedside tables.

It’s eight hundred square feet of heaven, especially compared to the threadbare cabin I’ve been holing up in for the last two months.

I open the fridge, which is empty, and the freezer, which is filled with rows upon rows of neatly tagged plastic bags. I sift through a few of them, with a warm, almost suffocating feelinggrowing in my stomach and chest: Vegetarian Chili, Kringle Dough, Bagels–Sweet, Bagels–Savory, Choc Chip Cookie Dough, Slutty Brownies. This must be where Laura keeps her overflow. The whole thing makes my mouth water, and not entirely for food.

I slam the freezer door shut. I have to get out of here. I’ll save up my pennies or maybe ask Harbor for a loan, the rest of my stipend in one lump sum, so I can avoid staying in this picture-perfect apartment that’s far too good for the likes of me.

Outside, I hear Einstein barking.

Animals. Whenever life has been too much for me, animals have always been a refuge. We understand each other, and they’re far easier to deal with than people.

I close the door and lock it behind me before I make my way down to the barn. It’s still pretty muddy, and I’ve noticed the animals aren’t out, though Einstein’s sniffing around the muck after the storm. His paws and coat are filthy, but he bounds over to me, tongue lolling from the side of his mouth, and I pet him. He rolls onto his back, further covering himself in mud, and I scratch his belly while he makes happy little canine huffs.

When he finally rolls onto his feet, we check the warm barn.

There they all are, the pigs snuffling through their indoor pen. I can’t quite tell Edward and Jacob apart yet, despite our close encounter the week before. Bella, though, is distinctive. She has a lovely white-and-pink hide, and she holds herself apart from the boys, as though she knows she is superior.

I move on from the pigs doing their porcine thing and step in front of Lucretia Borgia’s stall. She is a pretty little donkey, even with all that mud on her. That’s something I could do for Laura. I’ll give Lucretia Borgia a quick bath, so Laura won’t have to deal with it.

Today, she lets me slip the halter over her head without too much trouble, which sparks an ember of concern deep in theback part of my brain. I lead her out to the crossties in the central aisle, keeping an eye on her gait. I didn’t have much time yesterday, with the storm bearing down on us, but this evening I notice a hitch, like she is in pain.

After I fasten her to the crossties, I examine her more thoroughly. No heat in the joints but a bit of swelling over one forelock. No drainage or abscess. Teeth look in poor shape, which is likely more a reflection of whoever owned her before Laura. No yellowing around the eyes, so I doubt liver damage. But she definitely has an air of lethargy about her.

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