Page 28 of The County Line
“Okay, well I won’t be doing that. I don’t smoke and I’m not interested in sneaking out.”
She smiles again. “Okay. I believe you.”
“So, what do you want to do today, Jenni?”
“I usually just stand here and work on my Skip-It skills, but I guess we can play a board game. I haven’t played one of those in a long time.”
“Okay, which one?” I ask.
Her eyes shine as she answers, “Monopoly.”
Before I can react, she’s darting over to the table that’s piled high with board games, zeroing in on a red-and-blue box. Without hesitation, she flips it open, sending the contents—game pieces, fake money, and cards—spilling onto the floor in a chaotic mess.
I crouch down to help her gather it up, and that’s when the floodgates open. She starts rambling about her life, school and friends, words tumbling out so fast and scattered it’s hard to keep up.
Lydia wasn’t kidding—give her a few minutes, and she transforms into a full-blown chatterbox. Honestly, it’s making my head hurt. As she talks a mile a minute, I try to sort through the list of emotions my therapist assigned me to practice, searching for the one that fits this situation. I land on confusion.
Pretty sure that wasn’t on the list, but I’m adding it because I’m confused as fuck at what she’s talking about right now.
I’m half paying attention to what she says as she organizes the money into neat little piles and rolls the dice, her words finally pricking my ears as they fade in, “So that’s the fifth family I’ve lived with this year, and Ireallydon’t want them to adopt me, but they seem set on it. They said they always wanted a daughter. I hate feeling like I’m a commodity to them and frankly, their son gives me the creeps.”
“Wait… what?” I stop her midstream.
She rolls her eyes, and moves her dog token game piece forward too many times for the number of dots on the dice that she rolled. “Oh, look at that, I landed on Vermont Avenue. Cha-Ching!” she shouts, fist-bumping and placing down some money to purchase the property that I’m certain she did not rightfully earn. It doesn’t bother me in the least that she’s cheating because I’m too focused on what she said before.
“This family you’re with now wants to adopt you but their son gives you the creeps?”
She nods. “Yeah, I don’t like him. The vibes are off.” She nudges the dice my way then raises her brows. “Your turn, big guy.”
I roll, trying to stay in the game, but my focus sharpens on her conversation instead.
Jenni is smart, funny, and quick-witted. She talks about losing her mom just six months ago—at the hands of her father, who’s now in prison for manslaughter—with a casualness that doesn’t match the weight of her words. It’s like she’s recounting a day at the park, not the kind of tragedy that should break a person.
For a moment, a flicker of sadness crosses her face when she mentions her mom—her best friend, apparently—but she shoves it down, burying it deep before anyone can notice. I don’t even know what to say. There’s nothing Icansay because I recognizethe look in her eyes. There’s a determination not to let anyone know she’s hurting.
The hour flies by, and before I know it, Lydia is calling for everyone to wrap up. Jenni is already on her feet, tossing her crumpled wad of play money onto the table like the game—and everything else—was just another thing she can easily move on from.
“I ate. No crumbs.” She grins.
Um... What?
“This was fun. I’ll be back to kick your butt next week, okay? Loser cleans up!” Jenni shouts the words over her shoulder with a grin, then skips off toward the doorway where a woman stands waiting for her.
I assume that’s her foster mother, the woman tasked with protecting and looking out for her after her mother’s death and apparently doing a shit job of it. A sharp, hot feeling rises in my chest—something that feels an awful lot like rage—but it fades as quickly as it comes. I sit there, trying to piece together what just happened, my mind gradually slipping back into the familiar state of numbness.
Then, a voice pulls me out of it.
“Hi, Colt. I’msosorry I’m late. A last-minute client was added to my list, and I had to meet them across town.” Molly takes a deep breath and straightens her shirt. “Then I swung by my place to change out of my uniform, thinking I’d still have time to get here to volunteer and clearly, I’ve missed the whole hour with the kids.”
My eyes lock with her blue ones and it’s like everything that I was worrying and thinking about before evaporates like smoke. She’s wearing a pair of light-washed, baggy blue jeans ripped atthe knees and a simple white tank top that clings just right to her full chest. Her black hair is swept into a braid that drapes over one side of her tanned shoulders, and her blue eyes practically sparkle with her smile.
Damn.
She looks good and it might be the first time I’ve really admired a woman since I got out.
“Did you have a good day?” she asks, her voice warm and easy like she doesn’t realize the affect she’s having on me.
“Yeah…” I grunt, though my focus has completely shifted.
