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While the snack preoccupies the little girl, I weave into traffic to lose the two cars trailing me. Their presence is a reminder of their boss. As much as I want to relegate him to the back of my mind, he won’t comply. The way my skin tightens at the thought of him makes me think the reason he dominates my thoughts at odd moments is not solely because I’m angry at his rejection. I don’t like my preoccupation with him and will avoid him at all costs.
Since he is no longer a candidate for Jinx’s guardian, I need to find someone new. Who I approach next becomes a buzzing noise in the back of my head. Light flashing through my rear-view mirror causes me to look up. Hmph. One thing I’ll compliment the asshole on is he hires capable people. They are hard to evade, but I eventually elude them before heading home, although I can’t seem to shake the image of their employer from my mind.
I pull into my development, a quaint suburban neighborhood in the greater Douglas area. Single-family homes on half-acre lots line the streets, their front yards worthy of an editorial spread inBetter Homes & Gardens.
As I turn onto my street, I sigh in relief that I will soon arrive at my safe place. Waiting for me on my porch is Mr.Murphy. I exhale, gearing myself up for an odd conversation. As a neighbor, Mr. Murphy has to be one of the most thoughtful cantankerous people I’ve ever met, and he knows how to chew an ear off. Not the most welcoming sight for an anti-social person. To be honest, neither is this neighborhood.
But I was one of the first to move here and make it into my secret oasis. It’s too late to move because I love my house too much to part with it. Even if I sometimes have to put up with overly solicitous neighbors or Mr. Murphy.
I pull into my garage and take Jinx out of her car seat. We head toward the front instead of entering the house.
“Bout time you got home. Single girl like you should be more careful with your safety.” Mr. Murphy says before I get halfway to him.
He’s a little taller than me, which isn’t saying much. I’m five feet two inches. Some might attribute his height to his demeanor since it takes time to realize his curt approach to everyone and everything isn’t him being mean.
“Hello, Mr. Murphy.”
“Hmph.” He peers down at Jinx. “I see you’ve got a growth on your leg. She got a name?”
Jinx tenses beside me, and I lay a reassuring hand on her shoulder. She doesn’t flinch or tense, and I try not to do a triumphant fist pump at the sign her trust in me is growing. Although she seems to believe in my sincere desire to keep her safe, sudden movements until now have elicited a fearful response I can’t fault her for having.
“Her name’s Jinx.” I won’t provide more information than necessary to Mr. Murphy or anyone. I always keep a low profile for those not within my circle; the circle I keep small for… reasons.
Mr. Murphy looks me up and down. It’s anyone’s guess if he’ll launch into a lecture or stomp away muttering about single women living without a lick of sense.
“It’s a damn shame I haven’t seen her with the other neighborhood kids. Someone her age needs to be making friends.”
Jinx presses against my leg, almost burying her face in my knee.
Mr. Murphy glances at her, then at me and frowns, blaming her reaction on me.
“She’s with me until I can place her with a family member,” I offer. If not, the way my neighbors speculate about me will only cause me future headaches.
From the knitting widows who’ve added me to their altruistic causes to the stay-at-home moms dropping by for welfare checks accompanied by homemade meals and passive-aggressive tactics to include me in neighborhood shenanigans against my will, I find sacrificing a little insight into my life is enough to garner me some peace.
After waiting for more information that I don’t offer, Mr. Murphy turns and bends down with the support of his cane. When he faces us again, he holds a box with its lid partially removed under one arm. “Here. Those busybodies dropped by my house with this… stuff. I can’t do nothing with them, but I’m sure you’ll find a use for the contents. Lord knows as a single woman you ain’t got nothing worthwhile in that house.”
Before I can utter a word, he shoves the box in my hands and walks away, his speed and agility with his cane a mystery to me. Inside the box are new and used toys perfect for Jinx.
It’s hard to get angry at a man the entire neighborhood nominates to do these acts of charity. If things played out the way I suspect, he commented about Jinx’s presence—he’s the first to clock unfamiliar faces in the development—to one of thecommunity organizers in a way that sounds like a complaint but is actual concern. They jumped onto the cause and dropped everything at Mr. Murphy’s house. It happens all the time, and not just to me.
By the time he’s halfway to his property, I remember my manners. “Thanks, Mr. Murphy.”
He waves dismissively in my direction, never one to accept gratitude or praise.
The weight of a pair of eyes staring at me causes me to glance at Jinx. Her blank expression worries me, but the longer she stays with me the more my instincts compel me to handle our interactions a certain way.
“Looks like Mr. Murphy and the neighbors want to spoil you a little. Everything in this box is for you. Let’s go inside and add these to the other toys I got you.”
She nods but waits patiently for me to open the door. We proceed to the den I converted into a playroom and unpack the box. The only sign of interest from Jinx occurs when we get to the last item in the box. It’s a stuffed bear unlike the others I bought for her. Her hand lingers on the cast encasing the bear’s arm, the bandage over its head, and the stitches on its belly.
My throat tightens over words I’m ill-equipped to voice. When her hand falls away from the soft, velvety material a fissure spreads across my heart.
I take the bear and hold it out to her. “This one looks lonely. Why don’t you keep it company?”
Her gaze bounces between me and the toy before she tentatively holds her hand out to accept. Everything in her mannerisms screams she expects me to snatch the bear away at the last second, and her anticipation of disappointment fills me with rage. Every day I discover another reason her mother doesn’t deserve Jinx.
The suspicion doesn’t leave Jinx even after she hugs the bear to her chest.
