Page 96 of A Wolf After My Own Heart
“Ms. Macropi.”
“How’dsheget my number?”
“I dinna know, lass, but I trust that was all right.”
“I’ve got no idea. But I’ve gotta admit, Berne, what with how you haven’t broken into my house or subjected me to a pop-in, you’re growing on me.”
“Naturally,” he replied, and disconnected.
Lila flopped back. Berne. Bacon. They meant the same thing: getting out of bed was an inevitable nightmare, like wearing shoes you bought without trying them on first. Getting dressed wasn’t going to be fun, either. If she took it slow and easy, she might not die.
“He’s coming?” Sally asked.
“Yep.”
“What’s it mean?”
“It means that you’ll be his problem now.”
“I’m your problem?”
Shit.“Um. No?” Lila finally picked up on Sally’s anxiety, but her big mouth had already done some damage. The kid had been bounced around like the cutest of ping-pong balls for the last several days. Naturally, anything new made her apprehensive.
“Why’d you even help me?” she burst out. “You don’t evenlikekids!”
“Argh. Softly, please. And it’s not that I don’t like kids. I don’t know kids. I don’t…” She spread her hands in a helpless gesture, which made her head hurt more. Everything did. Blinking. Breathing. Mitosis. “I don’t know anyone, really. That’s…how it is with me.” She paused, then corrected herself. “How I’ve made it be with me.”
“Oh.” Sally sniffed. “So you don’t like me, but you don’t dislike me, either.”
“Well. Depends on the day.”
“Hey!”
“Ow! I deserved that.” She rubbed her forehead and seriously considered the prospect of an Advil smoothie. “But listen, Sally. I’m not Mary Poppins. I think it’s important for you to take that to heart.”
“Why? Who cares about Mary Poppins?”
“I’m trying to tell you I’m not gonna show up out of nowhere and take care of you and magically solve all your problems.”
“You’ve only done two of those things.”
“Just so we’re on the same page.”
Lila heard new footsteps on the stairs, on the bedroom carpet, and then Caro was looming over her. “Now what fresh hell is this?” The girl was waving a pad of paper in her face. “Oh my God. You’re gonna make me read a handwritten note in low light.” Click. “AAAGGGHHHHHH!”
When her eyes had half-heartedly adjusted to the light and she was reasonably certain her head wasn’t going to implode as she simultaneously shat her pants, Lila read Caro’s note.
They told you.
“Yeah. But it’s not like they lost a bet or something. They were legit worried I might be in danger.” She squinted up at Caro, who either had a halo or her eyes were still adjusting to the blast of light after Sally hit the switch. “Don’t worry, I’ll never discuss it with anyone else. I’ve got a strict ‘your business is your business’ policy, which I implemented when I turned twelve.”
More scribbling, which was just fine. Write a paragraph. A page. Write goddamnedMoby Dick, if it meant she could stay in bed another few minutes.
They told you…but you’re treating me the same.
“Uh. Yeah. That’s…how I work.” She listened to herself blink. “D’you want me to treat you different now?”
For that, she got a patented Caro Daniels eye roll and more scribbling.
