Page 17 of Siccitas

“Got any tools?” I call out as I set the boards down in front of a busted door. When she doesn’t answer, I stand up and roll my shoulders as I wander back the opposite way I came to find her. She’s sitting in the living room in an old recliner, an obviously stale cup of tea sitting next to her on a chipped saucer. “I can put these up for you before I head home,” I offer.

“Thank you,” she whispers, her eyes trained on the small window near her.

“So... tools?” I ask again.

“I don’t know where they are. Honestly, I don’t know if he has any at all. I’ve only been here for a couple of days.”

“No problem, I’ve got some in the bed of my truck. Be right back!”

Jocelyn doesn’t look at me, but nods. I guess that’s her way of acknowledging what I said, which is better than nothing.

I walk out and the few feet toward the driveway, then lean into the back of the truck.I know I’ve got a hammer in here somewhere ... Found it!

Hopefully, there are nails in the house, but I’m assuming that there are... somewhere.

Running a hand down my face, I glance up and down the road, then arch an eyebrow curiously at another pickup truck a few houses down.

The engine is idling, and it looks like someone is in there, but I can’t be sure.

Oh well.

Off to save the day.

I begin to whistle a cheerful tune quietly to myself as I walk back toward the door of the home.

Thirty minutes at best, and I can be on my way.

Chapter Twelve

Jocelyn

Ibusy myself in thekitchen, trying to find something that I can put together as a late thankyou lunch for Von, who’s now fixing the door.

The more I pick through the cupboards, the more it honestly pains me to realize that Dalton has so damn little, and it makes me feel even worse for taking what he does have, to make a small meal for a stranger who wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t so damn curious.

Once this is over, I’ll use the little bit of money I have at home to buy him groceries,I decide, as I pull out a half-empty box of pancake mix.

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