Page 12 of Mr. Edwards
I blow out a puff of air. “I was hungry. She said she was going to bring home food.”
“I see. When was the last time you ate?”
I dip my head. “A few days ago.”
“A few days?”
He doesn’t say anything further, but he puts on his indicator when we reach the next intersection before turning left.
“You don’t turn here,” I say, wondering if he mistook my earlier directions.
“I know. I’m taking you to get something to eat. There should be some fast-food restaurants still open.”
“You don’t have?—”
“It’s not up for negotiation, Carlee,” he says, his wordscutting me off. “A few damn days,” he mumbles under his breath, shaking his head in disgust. I wonder what he’d think if he knew it was actually four?
“Let me help,” I offer, coming to stand beside Reece. It’s the least I can do after everything he’s done for me tonight. I may be tiny, but I’ve had to drag her unconscious ass into the trailer on more than one occasion. Although, with my small frame it took a lot of persistence and determination to make it happen. In the end, I’m pretty sure it was the frustration and rage I felt toward her in that moment that got me over the line.
“I’ve got her,” Reece replies, huffing out a breath as he reaches into the back seat of his car and scoops a comatose Roxy into his arms. Her head falls back the moment he lifts her, and she mumbles something unintelligible, but thankfully doesn’t wake. Despite her obvious deadweight, he doesn’t even flinch. “Hold open the door to the trailer for me.”
Dashing up the front step of the small porch, I use my backside as a prop to hold open the rickety screen, while I turn the knob on the front door, kicking it open with my foot. I didn’t lock the door before I left because I didn’t have a key. It’s not like we’ve got anything worth stealing anyway.
He enters the trailer, and I point toward my mom’s bedroom. “Just put her in here,” I say.
Following me into her room, I see him wince themoment he enters, I know it’s because of the smell. I’m used to it now, but sometimes it still turns my stomach.
After Reece carefully lays her down, I scoot around to the side of the bed, removing her shoes and setting them over by the wall. After rolling my mom onto her side in case she gets sick, I use a pillow to keep her propped up and pull the blanket over her, making sure she’s covered before turning back around to face Reece. I usually hate having strangers here, but I get a feeling I can trust this man.
I watch as his eyes dart around the room taking everything in. This place is a shit hole, and it doesn’t smell much better. I tidied up in here after my mom left earlier, and made her bed, but I’m pretty sure the stench of stale cigarettes, vomit, and probably piss, is embedded into not only the walls, but the filthy worn carpet.
“Is it just the two of you that live here?” he asks without showing any judgment. I like that about him. He doesn’t make me feel like I’m less than.
“Yeh.”
“Are your grandparents in your life?”
I shake my head. “I’ve never met them.”
“When does your dad get out?”
Soon, I hope.
A few years ago, I found a letter he’d sent Roxy from prison. It wasn’t long, it basically asked why she still hadn’t been to visit, I’m not sure if there’d been others sent prior, but there was a sentence at the end of this one that still makes the hairs on my arm stand on end when I think about it, “You better be looking after my little girl,” he’d written. Seeing those words made tears sting the back of my eyes as I clutched the piece of paper to my chest.Someone cared.
“I’m not sure. I’ve written him a few letters, but Roxy wouldn’t send them for me.”
“Did she say why?”
I shrug. “Just that it costs money.”
“Hmm. Do you still have the letters? I’d be happy to send them for you.”
“Really?”
“Sure, kid.”
“Ah, okay. Let me just grab them.”
