Page 20 of Call My Bluff
“Yeah. Tell yourself whatever you need to, Pix; I know denial when I see it.”
Olivia let out a huff that was almost a growl before pushing past him, leading the way back in the only direction that made any sense.
The sooner they found their way out of there, the better.
6
Watson’s Grocery Storeclosed at 1:00 p.m. on Thanksgiving Day, and Noah was moving carefully through the traffic of downtown Hampton by 2:30 p.m. It was only an hour south of Cypress Valley, but his hometown often felt like another world entirely. The rolling fields of corn and soybeans that were so prevalent in northwest Tennessee were replaced by multistory office buildings and the tall cranes that unloaded shipping boats along the Mississippi River.
He turned down one side street and then another before finding himself in front of a red-brick apartment complex that had seen better days. He wasn’t sure when exactly those days had been, but they were certainly before he and his mother had moved in eight years ago. He parked along the street and climbed from his car, which creaked and groaned with every movement.
The ancient Toyota Camry was just lucky to have made the trip in one piece. Well, in the same number of pieces in which it had left his house that morning, anyway. The rear door handles were missing, replaced by zip ties that only functioned from the outside. The passenger’s side window would roll down with ease,but it took three people to put it back up—one pushing from the inside, one pressing from the outside and another holding down the button. Both the bumper and the fender were dented, and the driver’s side door hung crooked, only latching if you pulled up on the frame while you closed it.
He didn’t bother to lock it when he walked away; not even the thieves in this neighborhood wanted a car like his, and there wasn’t anything inside worth stealing.
The sounds of a party met him on the sidewalk, drawing him down the central walkway between buildings three and four. He rounded a corner to the rear patio and found chaos in progress... but the good kind.
Doors were open on both sides of the shared outdoor space, and his mother’s neighbors scurried in and out, covering long folding tables with mismatched tablecloths, dragging chairs of all kinds out onto the concrete slab, and trying to corral the children who darted around the legs of their elders.
Noah bent down and caught a little girl as she rushed past. “Argh!” he yelled, tossing her into the air.
“Noah!” she squealed. She threw her arms around his neck and held on, already knowing what would come next.
Noah let go of her waist, and she wrapped her short legs around his torso, hanging on like a monkey. She giggled as he shook from side to side. “Get off!” he yelped, spinning around in a half-hearted attempt to dislodge her. His efforts attracted the attention of the others, and soon he was covered in child-sized barnacles. They clung to both his legs, climbed up his sides and leapt onto his back as if conquering Mount Everest.
“Help!” he called at last, conceding the defeat the young ones craved, and a woman nearby laughed fondly.
“It’s good to see you, Noah,” she called. “Children, let him go.”
Noah’s captors reluctantly obeyed.
“How long will you be here?”
“Did you bring us candy?”
“My mama’s making pie!”
Their excited chatter became a whirlwind of noise, and Noah knelt in the center of the storm. “Just for today, not this time, and that sounds amazing!” he said, answering them each in turn. “But right now I need to seemymama. Do you know where she is?”
“I do!” chimed half a dozen voices, and Noah instantly found himself being ushered toward the open back door of apartment 4D. It was a little like crowd surfing with a band of dwarves.
“Miss Ava, Miss Ava! Look who’s here!” the children called as they all but shoved him across the threshold. The smell of cooking food assaulted his senses—too many scents to name—and his mouth began to water.
“Did you find him?” a woman called from the small kitchen, and Noah heard the oven door close with an unholy screech.
He really should find a way to fix that.
Ava Campbell stuck her head around the corner, and her whole face lit up at the sight of her only son and his entourage. “Good work, kids!” she said as she wiped her hands on a dish towel. Noah’s young companions scattered, their job done, and he was able to wrap his arms around his mother for the first time since the semester began. His near-constant work schedule and unreliable car didn’t encourage many trips home.
“So, your fan club remains,” his mom observed, and Noah gave a self-deprecating shrug.
“Yeah, but don’t tell anyone at school; you’ll ruin my image.”
His mother snorted and pulled out of his embrace far enough to begin her inspection. “You look tired, honey,” she said, running her hands along his shoulders the way mothers often did. “Are you getting enough sleep? And is your hair... blue?”
Noah waved her concern away with a careless hand. “Sleep is for the weak,” he insisted. “And sort of.” He left a quick kiss on the top of her head before stepping toward the kitchen, where he found the counters laden with produce and supplies. Three pots bubbled quietly on the stove, and the oven light revealed two casserole dishes visible through the small window.
“You know everyone is bringing food, right? Not just you?” he teased.
