ReBoot (MAC Security 4)

In reality, I know that’s not true. Nobody knows what happens behind closed doors: the secrets that are kept.

“Well well well, if it isn’t my favorite old lady.” My head whips to the side at the deep voice behind us and I gasp, causing his attention to turn to me. His brown eyes narrow, but not in a bad way, more of a “who are you,” kind of way.

“Malcolm,” Livvy greets the man.

My eyes assess him as my gaze runs up and down him: a pair of light-blue jeans covering his legs with holes at the knees—not the fashionable kind, but the kind that have been made from working. My gaze trails past his legs and up to the white t-shirt that grips his body like a second skin with compost stains on the front and down his muscular arms, to the gardening gloves he wears.

“Who’s the new lady?” he asks, bringing my attention back to his face. His eyes twinkle with laughter and the kind smile on his face lets me know that he’s harmless which allows me to breathe easier.

“This is my new lodger, Lexi.”

I offer a wave, thankful that she used my nickname and not my full name.

“Well… nice to meet you, Lexi.” He pulls his gloves off and swipes his hand through his salt and pepper hair, the strands not staying in place, springing back over his forehead and eyes. “You ever get fed up with this old lady, you come on over and visit me and Cal.”

“Erm…” I bite my lip, moving my gaze from him to Livvy who has a big smile lifting up her lips.

“Stop trying to scare her away, you big meanie.” She taps him on the shoulder before putting her arm back through mine. “Sunday drinks?”

“You betcha!” He winks and waves before turning around, putting his gloves back on and kneeling down, proceeding to pull weeds out of his flower bed.

“Sunday drinks?” I ask when we’re a few meters down from his house and nearly back at Livvy’s.

“Yep!” She winks at me. “Every Sunday I have Mal and Cal around—” I snicker at the sound of their names together like that. “Yeah, I know… talk about matching names.” She chuckles with me and continues to tell me that when they first moved into the area that they weren’t freely accepted: two men who were living as life partners didn’t go down well in a community like this, so she welcomed them in with open arms and the tradition of “Sunday drinks and nibbles” came about.

“You’ll love them! I promise. Mal is more of a free spirit, he’s an environmentalist, whereas Cal is the suit type. He’s a big-shot lawyer in the city, complete with a broody face.” She waves her hand in the air as we make it to the bottom of her path. My throat dries at the thought of being so close to a lawyer but she doesn’t notice as she continues on. “He’s a little harder to crack through, but once you have, you become family to him.”

“I—”

“Oh shucks! Look at the time!” Her eyes widen when she looks up from her watch. “Let’s get you in and fed before your shift starts. It’s at six, right?”

I’m glad for the change of subject; I could feel myself getting inside my own head, and right now, that’s a dangerous place to be. I’m an over thinker: I think things to death. Sometimes it’s a good thing, most of the time, not so much.

“Yep.” I smile, a bounce in my step as I walk into the house behind Livvy. This will be my first proper job—if I don’t count the jobs in prison, which I’m definitely not. I’d rather forget everything about that place.

Even though I met Roy—the man who runs the community center—a couple of days ago, it still doesn’t ease any of my nerves as I make my way there. I’ve timed the walk several times over the last couple of days: twelve minutes.

Those twelve minutes today seem like they go by way too fast but way too slow all at the same time. By the time I come to a stop at the edge of the grass that sits out front of the community center, my hands are shaking with nerves.

It’s just a job.

But it doesn’t matter how many times I say the same thing to myself: it doesn’t make any difference. I’m twenty minutes early; why oh why did I leave so early when I knew how long it would take to walk here?

I shake my head at myself as I decide to sit on the wooden bench that’s on the grass. I need to pull myself together; gather my thoughts and push them all down—lock them away.

My leg bobs up and down as I watch some kids come out of the center, a man following behind and piling them into a van with the community center logo on the side. I watch their smiles as they all put their belts on, the laughter filling the air before he pulls away from the curb, letting the silence fall over me again.

I take a moment to have a good look around. The last few days, I’ve been so focused on being prepared and ready that I didn’t allow myself to take it all in.

The center sits opposite the police precinct—if that isn’t a bad omen, then I don’t know what is.

I’m not doing anything wrong, I know this, but I’m a criminal. It doesn’t matter what I did and the reasons behind it, I’m still a criminal on paper.

I shake my head at myself and close my eyes. I’m here to start fresh, to make a life for myself, not live in the past; but it’s so hard not to.

“Alexis?” I jump at the sound of the rough voice. My eyes spring open and I look up at Roy. He stands with his hands on his hips, a set of coveralls covered in paint—no doubt from years worth of DIYing.

“Hi!” I squeak far too loud, cringing at myself. “Sit… bench.” I point to the bench and squeeze my eyes shut. “I just…” I take a breath, centering myself. “Needed a minute.”