Page 31 of Losing his Daddy

“Thank you,” I told Gerald as I shoved a massive heaping of eggs between my lips. Flavor burst across my tongue, stronger than I was used to despite the simplicity of the dish.

At my wide-eyed stare, he chuckled. “I have a few tricks up my sleeve. Figured I’d start off on the right foot. Good?”

I swallowed. “Great! What’s in there?”

“Sage,” he admitted. At my frown, he went on to explain, “There’s also lots of butter, some salt and pepper, and a hint of Cajun spice. Together they work. I don’t know how. They just do.”

I didn’t know how either. I only knew this was something I could get addicted to.

Gerald cleaned as I ate. I watched him move around; my phone forgotten to the distraction he presented. On the outside, he presented a calm demeanor. He didn’t flinch or look around suspiciously. There was nothing to signal anything was bothering him.

Nothing except his eyes.

Every time I would catch his gaze, he’d look away quickly. I wondered what it meant. Had I said something to upset him? Or was this something else? I’d already removed all the alcohol I’d had, so I knew it wasn’t the temptation there. And I’d offered to clean instead of having him do it. He’d turned me down again, claiming this was another task in his job description.

Funny considering there wasn’t a job description. Hell, we didn’t even have a contract in place.

That thought stopped me short.

“Should we draw up some kind of contract for employment? Are you worried about that?”

He froze. “A contract? What for?”

I shrugged. “To ensure you’re treated properly. And to define your pay. We still haven’t talked about that part.”

“We don’t need to. Most of my pay would have gone to rent. If you’re willing to let me stay here, then there is nothing to discuss.”

“It’s not that simple, Gerald. You need food and money for other expenses. I don’t want you to worry about those things.”

He dried the dish in his hand, then leaned against the counter. I took him in from head to toe as I waited for his response. The man was a distraction I didn’t need. I should have been focusing on getting him all lined out for work, but all I wanted to do was see what was under his tight clothing. It was only fair given he’d seen me first.

Before I could open my mouth to suggest such ludicrous notions, he spoke up. “My phone bill is next to nothing since I don’t use it for much of anything. It’s also a very old model that’s lasted me ages. I don’t need much in the way of clothing, and I don’t really know the city well enough to go places on my own. My friends here would also step in if there was anything I needed anyway. They’ve taken to smothering me with their affectionsince I showed up. A place to live was literally the only thing I needed. And even before you, I’d had an offer for a spare room until I’d gotten back on my feet. How much you pay me isn’t my greatest worry.”

“What is?” I asked.

“The past repeating itself. That’s my greatest fear. I don’t know if I’ll survive it the next time.”

My phone rang, interrupting the tense moment. “This is Wes.”

“Mr. Joffry, Ms. St. Johan is here for her belonging with the movers. Are we good to send her up?”

I cursed under my breath, then agreed. Hanging up, I turned to Gerald. “That’s Danielle. She’s here early. I’m not even ready yet. I had plans to go through things first.”

Gerald reached across the counter, his hand landing on mine. “Calm down. It’s going to be ok. You’ve got me here, and we can take care of this. We don’t have time to go through everything before she gets here. Why don’t you tell me what is most important to secure, and I’ll get that while you answer the door?”

“Sure. That could work.” I quickly told him the few items and where they were. With a nod, he left me about thirty seconds before the knock at the door came.

I wiped my hand over my clothes once more. Everything seemed to be in place. Almost everything anyway. My feet were bare, which was something I never did at home. Danielle had told me how strange it was in the past. Like I wasn’t comfortable enough to relax or something. I didn’t have time to rectify it, and honestly, I was too comfortable to care. Besides, Gerald hadn’t said anything about it earlier. He didn’t know how strange it was for me to be this way, but still.

Ignoring my own internal debate, I opened the door. Danielle stood in a tight wrap dress and heels; clothing that was definitely not meant to be worn if one intended to pack. Behind her stoodfour college aged kids with shirts that said ‘College Kids Carry: We’ll help you move’. They had boxes, tape, and a cart in tow.

“Come in,” I offered as I widened the door.

The group marched past me. Danielle tried to act as if she were superior in some way, even though I’d been the one to make her move out. I let it go. There was no reason to get into an argument with her. I was no longer interested in whatever excuses she had. It didn’t matter. I’d moved on the day I’d watched the first incident on my phone screen.

Gerald came from down the hall, a box in his hands. It was taped shut and labeled with my name in big black letters.

“I got everything you mentioned,” he said with an air of authority. He knew he was wanted here, whereas Danielle and her crew were not. I found the idea amusing.

---