Because nothing was what I had to offer a girl like that.
I finished up for the afternoon and grabbed my old fleece-lined denim jacket from the back of the patio chair. The scent of fresh-baked cookies hit me before I even touched the screen door.
“Ms. Barrera?” I called. The old lady was mostly blind. I didn’t want to scare her.
“In here, darling.”
I stepped inside, making sure to wipe my boots on the porch mat first so my footprints wouldn’t dirty their floors. A plate of chocolate chip cookies was cooling on the kitchen counter.
My stomach growled and so did that old hunger that went deeper than flesh and bone. The Barrera household was a goddamn buffet. Cozy and warm and crammed with photos and antique furniture, glass cabinets of old lady knickknacks, and trees made out of wires and beads. Traces of homecooked meals lingered in the air. The entire place felt like a kind of wealth I’d never known or understood. Not in money but in every other thing that mattered. It was hard to believe this house—this home—and my crappy, empty apartment existed in the same town.
Ms. Barrera sat knitting with the two gray cats curled next to her on the couch. Shiloh was nowhere to be seen, thank God. I stunk with sweat and needed to get the fuck out of there.
“How is it out there? Not too hot, I hope.”
“No, ma’am.”
“You met my great-granddaughter?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I hope she didn’t give you a hard time.”
“No, she’s…fine.”
She’s a work of art.
“Good. She can be rather direct.”
Which I liked. Too much. There was a lot about Shiloh I liked too much.
I cleared my throat and pulled a second folded paper from my pocket. “This is the supply list. I called around to a bunch of places to make sure you got the best prices.”
I handed it to her and quickly backed off.
“Aren’t you a doll? My eyes aren’t what they used to be, but I trust this is just right. I’ll have Shiloh place the order today.”
“Yep. Same time tomorrow?”
“Nonsense. Tomorrow is Saturday. The weekends are for fun, though I wish someone would tell that to my granddaughter.” Her eyes widened with a sudden thought. “Shiloh tells me you’re in her senior class at Central.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“There’s a party tomorrow night with one of your classmates. A real rager, I hear.”
I coughed. “Okay.”
“Wouldn’t it be marvelous if you and Shiloh attended together? You could get to know your classmates and get Shi out of that garage.” She beamed in my direction. “What do you think, darling?”
The woman had to be more blind than I thought if she wanted me to take her granddaughter anywhere.
“I don’t think so, Ms. Barrera.”
“Please. Call me Bibi.” She smiled into her knitting. “Too bad. I just figured since you go to the same school and all.” She chuckled. “Shiloh worried you were a cold-blooded killer.”
I stiffened, Chouder’s words coming back. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
Bibi sensed a shift in the air and looked up, finding me with her hazy brown eyes. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, dear. Shiloh would screech to hear me meddle in her affairs.” She smiled gently. “There are fresh cookies on the counter. Please help yourself before you go.”