“You want extra shifts at Honky Tonk, say the word.” I couldn’t seem to stop wanting this woman’s orbit to overlap with my own. It was a stupid, dangerous game I was playing.
“This from the man who called me an ‘uppity, needy pain in the ass’ and tried to fire me on the spot. Forgive me if I don’t ever ask you for anything.”
“Oh, come on, Naomi. I was pissed off.”
She looked at me like she wanted to light me on fire. “And?” she said pointedly.
“And what? I said some shit because I was pissed off. You weren’t supposed to hear it. Not my fault you were eavesdroppin’ on a private conversation.”
“You yelled two seconds after I walked out the door! You can’t just do that! Words have power. They make people feel things.”
“So stop feelin’ things, and let’s move on,” I suggested.
“That might be the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”
“Doubt that. You grew up with Tina.”
The ice in her had thawed and turned to molten lava. “I did grow up with Tina. I was nine when I overheard her telling my best friend they should play without me because I was too snobby to have any fun. I was fourteen when she kissed the boy she knew I liked and told me I was too needy for him or anyone to ever want me.”
Fucking A. This is why I hated talking to people. Sooner or later, you always stuck your finger in a wound.
I ran my hand through my hair.
“Then along comes Knox Morgan. Who doesn’t want me around because, despite my defective personality of being uppity and needy, you still managed to be attracted to my body.”
“Look, Daisy. It’s nothing personal.”
“Except it is deeply personal.”
“Put a lot of thought into being pissed off about this, haven’t you?” Maybe I wasn’t the only one losing sleep.
“Go screw yourself, Knox!”
The brisk knock at the front door made Naomi jump. Wine sloshed over the rim of her glass.
“Am I interrupting?” The woman on the other side of the screen door was a few inches shy of Naomi and wore a rumpled gray suit. Her dark hair was pulled back in a tight bun.
“Ummm,” Naomi managed as she tried to blot at the wine on her chest with her hands. “Uhhh.”
“I’m Yolanda Suarez. With Child Protective Services.”
Ah. Fuck me.
Naomi went rigor-mortis stiff next to me. I snatched the box of tissues off the top of the desk and handed it to Naomi. “Here,” I said.
When she just stared at the visitor without moving, I yanked a few tissues out and started to blot up the disaster.
It took about two dabs into her cleavage before she snapped out of it and slapped my hands away.
“Um! Welcome. This isn’t my wine,” Naomi said, eyes wide. The visitor’s gaze slid to the now-empty glass Naomi was holding. “I mean it is. I don’t know why I said that. But I’m not drinking a lot of it. I’m responsible. And I hardly ever yell at men in my living room.”
“Okaaaaaay. Is Chief Morgan here? He asked me to stop by,” Yolanda asked coolly.
FIFTEEN
KNOX GOES SHOPPING
Naomi
Two days later, I was still having mini heart attacks every time someone came to the door. Nash had invited Yolanda, Waylay’s caseworker, to stop by so he could introduce us. He’d just had no idea that she’d show up when I was in the middle of unloading a lifetime of baggage on Knox Morgan.
The introduction had been brief and awkward. Yolanda handed over a paper copy of the guardianship application, and I could feel her classifying me as a screaming shrew with a taste for too much wine. On the bright side, Waylay had been mercifully polite and didn’t mention how I was torturing her with vegetables in her meals.
I’d over-analyzed the informal meeting to the point where I was convinced I’d barely survived an interrogation and that Yolanda Suarez hated me. My new mission wasn’t just to be judged an “acceptable” kinship guardian—I was going to be the best kinship guardian Northern Virginia had ever seen.
The very next day, I’d borrowed Liza’s Buick and marched into Knockemout’s consignment shop. Pack Rats had coughed up $400 for my custom-made, barely worn wedding dress. Then I’d grabbed a coffee from Justice and gone straight home to finalize the back-to-school shopping list.
“Guess what we’re doing today,” I said to Waylay as we had our lunch of sandwiches and carrot sticks on the back porch.
The sun was shining, the creek burbling lazily as it flowed past the edge of the grass.