Page 6 of Sleeper

“I’ll try to get her in gear, so we can get going. Give me a few?”

“Of course.”

I really needed to watch what I said around Belle, but at this point, she was a teenager. Perhaps the damage had already been done. I hated to admit it but hearing me cuss every now and then probably wasn’t the worst thing she’d been exposed to growing up. She lived with Dad.

* * *

Belle let out a whistle as she scoured the fridge. “You need to go to the grocery store, T. Want me to go for you? I have some money I squirrelled away from Dad.” She dipped her fingers into the front pocket of her jeans.

“No.” I shook my head, and my heart broke instantly at the gesture. She’d been on her own for a fucking month and a half and she was offering me what was probably the only money she had. “I have plenty of money, Baby Belle. You save yours.” A weak smile pulled my mouth upward and I was sure she’d notice. If she had, she didn’t call me on it, though.

“Okay. Are you sure?”

I nodded.

“Last time you’ll see Mr. Benjamin’s note. Going once. Twice. Sayonara, Frankie.” She grinned and her stomach loudly rumbled.

“I think I have some Frosty-O’s or some kind of off-brand cereal in the cabinet. Grab the milk?”

“No bueno, compadre.” She opened the fridge, snagging the milk jug out, and shook it in front of my face. It was almost one solid chunk. “Want to smell it?”

“Hell no, I don’t want to smell that rank soured milk.”

“You sure?” She smiled a shit-eating grin while her fingers wrapped around the blue lid and threatened me with the bad milk. I was able to smell the worst of bodily fluids and it didn’t bother me at all. Even C. Diff. Once you had a patient with it, your nose was about able to diagnose everyone else who had it after them just by catching a whiff of the smell and without ever sending a sample to the lab. If you knew, you knew. Despite all of that, when it came to the stench of rotten food or pungent smelling trash, I wanted to vomit on the spot.

“Belle,” I warned, backing away from her. “Put the fucking stank ass thing back where it came from.”

She howled with laughter as she jiggled the jug a little and extended her arm. “Are you sure?” she drew out the last word, taunting me.

“Yes. Shit.” My fingers pinched my nose shut just to be safe.

“Relax, Mike Wazowski. I’ll put it back.”

“Mike who?”

“You know, put that thing back where it came from…” She paused. “Huh. Nothing. You need to watch more movies and drink less beer, T. That’s a classic line. You seriously have no idea what I’m talking about?”

“Nope,” I lied. “Come on. I’ll order us some take out. Whatever you want. Your choice.”

“Ooo. Can I get crab rangoon, General Tso’s, an egg roll, and egg drop soup?” My eyes widened at such a hefty order. Not because I wasn’t able to foot the bill, but I was impressed how quickly she’d decided. It used to take us forever to make our minds up about meals when she stayed with me, then we usually wound up eating a TV dinner because it was quick and easy.

“If it’s too much—”

“It’s not. Don’t worry. I’ll order it now.” I cut her off midsentence. “Baby Belle?”

“What’s up, T?”

“I think I’m more of a Sulley and you’re a Mike.”

“Shithead! I couldn’t figure out how you forgot my favorite movie!”

“I didn’t. I was messing with you.”

“I’m not a Mike. I’m not green and I have two eyes.” She pointed to her skin and then to each of her eyes.

“Yeah, I guess that knocks you out of the race then. Who would you be?”

“If you’re Sulley, then I’m definitely Boo. You keep me safe,” she nonchalantly said with a rise and drop of her shoulders before she walked past me and plopped onto the loveseat in front of the television.

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