Page 11 of Invisible String
I nod. “Can we go for a walk after we eat?”
She slices into her pancakes. “That’s a good idea. Then I’ll come back and make your cake. How about a strawberry cake with whipped cream on top? Then, when Dad gets home, we will have a special dinner, your favorite meal. Open a gift and have cake. How does that sound?”
“I like that idea.”
“Let’s eat up, baby.”
We eat, and then Mom takes me on a walk along the trail. Mom loves to find rocks and paint them. “How’s this rock, Mom?” It’s a flat, smooth rock.
“Oh, that one is perfect, Max.Perfecto,you’re a good rock finder.” Mom always praises me.
“Thank you, Mom.”
She winks. “Te amo, Max.”
Staring at the abandoned,boarded house, my heart sinks. A year later, she passed. I ran three miles to get to the home that once held memories of laughter and love. That’s all it is—memories, which I buried a long time ago. Being here is resurfacing them.
After taking a five-minute breather, I head back. My body is dripping with sweat. To cool off, I decide to jump into the lake, and water splashes around. Fuck, it’s cold.
“Hey, what the hell, asshole!” a girl shouts.
I didn’t notice anyone there. Wiping the water in my eyes, I look to see the pissed chick.Rainey. What is she doing here?
Her eyes enlarge. “Oh, s-sorry.” She jumps from the folding chair she was lying on, grabs her book, and runs off.
My mouth stays shut, but what the hell would I say? Nothing, because there’s nothing to say to her. My gaze follows where she’s heading, and it’s to the house next door to Mike.
Dammit.
She’s definitely not the same girl. When I first met her, she was a determined little thing who followed me around and talked my ears off. Now, she’s running from me. It shows she knows who I am. Maybe she found out I was nothing more than a homeless foster kid bouncing from homes. All my life, they treated me like a plague. It makes no difference now. It’s better this way—Rainey keeps her distance.
My steps trail behind her. Rainey must think I’m following her. She keeps gazing back when she reaches the balcony of the vast cabin. She stands in her small bikini and peers at me. I pay her no attention and go to my cabin right the hell next door. She huffs when I open the door. Yeah, she must hate I’m her damn neighbor.
Seven years ago, she asked me to kiss her, and I let her in—into my space. Ilet her touch me. We both shared our first kiss. I have never let another woman in. Mainly, because I’m not that type of man. The abuse I had to endure all my life until I learned how to box abhorred me with a remembrance of them throwing punches at me, throwing me around, and whipping me. The touch of hands on me never felt right; it only serves to recall all those who hurt me. I promised myself I’d let no one in again. She knew nothing about my life. I let her get close enough to feel how warm her touch was and how I enjoyed the feel of her soft, plump lips heavy on mine.
But that was then, and now we’re better off pretending we don’t know one another. It’s better for her.
Warm water trickles down my body. I’m relieved Mike has body wash in here. Mine is in the car, along with my clothes. Damnit. Seeing Rainey rattled me so much I forgot to get my stuff.
Once I’ve dried myself, I wrap the towel around my waist, put on my slides, then go outside to retrieve my clothes.
When I grab the big container and the beat-up suitcase out of my car, the blinds next door move. Let’s hope the towel doesn’t drop to the floor and give my nosy neighbor a view. Now, I’m wondering if she lives alone or maybe with a guy. I shake my head. Why in the hell should I care?
My phone rings on the table by the bed.
“Hello, Carlos,” I answer through the receiver.
“Hey, Max, I’m just calling to see if you’re okay.”
I drop the towel and grab a pair of boxers and jeans. With the phone pressed to my ear, holding it with my shoulder, I slip on my boxers and jeans and answer him.
“I’m good. I went out for a run. I just got back.”
I can hear theclick-clackof the pistachios.
“Great. So, a friend of mine asked if I knew anyone looking for a job. If you’re interested, he’s a plumber who will need a helper in the next few weeks. Once you clear your head and are ready.”
“Thanks. I’ll keep you updated.”
