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“Mice love mattresses when people aren’t around.”
Addison’s eyebrows shot up and her eyes filled with horror. “Mice?”
“‘Fraid so.”
She took a step back, like maybe that single word was going to make her change her mind about the whole plan.
“We’ll catch the mice,” I said, thinking of the traps I had at the store. “And don’t worry about the beds. I brought an air mattress and sleeping bag,” I told her. “I actually brought a second one for Dan that you can use tonight. He’s sleeping at his mom’s until tomorrow.”
Her eyes slid from the big foreboding house to me and back again as she thought about this, a little frown line appearing between her eyes. “I don’t really camp.”
“Figures.” The word slipped out before I thought about it—and her face darkened. I hadn’t meant anything really, I was just so used to being petty when it came to Tanners that my brain was still searching for opportunities to drop little daggers.
“What is that supposed to mean?” She asked.
“Nothing, sorry. Only, that you’re a city girl. Nothing about you screams I’m-the-camping type.” Her frown told me I hadn’t managed to make that any better at all. “Sorry,” I said again.
She sighed. “I guess I can sleep on the floor for one night. I’ll figure something else out tomorrow.” I decided not to mention the wealth of bugs and dirt that would be joining us on the floor tonight.
“Great,” I said, and as I followed her down the path next to the garage and back toward the back door of the big house, I felt an unfamiliar glimmer of hope, or maybe excitement at the prospect of a new opportunity, spring to life inside me.
10
Lack of Air
Addison
Something about the way Michael was leading me into the house—our house—was rubbing me wrong. The fact he had moved in first, had been here all afternoon doing whatever it was he’d been doing...it made it feel like this was his house, his project, and I was just a guest. One who had to sleep on the floor in a room inhabited by mice. Ew. But Lottie had needed a lot of convincing, and she’d demanded help with her famous pumpkin spice muffins before she’d let me go. Technically, she reminded me, I was still working at the Tin part time.
At least at the Tin there were no mice.
Living in New York City had made me pretty immune to—or at least used to—things like rodents and cockroaches. But it sure didn’t mean I enjoyed sharing space with them. Still, I’d never been the squealing type unless confronted by enormous kangaroos, and I wasn’t giving Michael the satisfaction of seeing me afraid.
We were partners in this insanity, and I needed it. I needed to get out of Mom’s house for a bit, get some space to think, and to figure out what to do about my past life, which felt like it was standing just around the corner, waiting for me. The problem was that it was tarnished and ruined. And expensive. Very expensive. But I didn’t know if I wanted it back. Everything about my life in New York had hinged on a fantasy—my belief in the love Luke and I shared. And it turned out, we’d shared that in the same way we always shared fries—I’d take one and savor it, and when I went for more, they were gone. That wasn’t sharing at all.
“I guess I’ll leave you to get settled?” Michael stood in the doorway of the biggest bedroom, the one with the window seat in the turret, shifting his weight from one foot to another. He had on a long-sleeved navy-blue T-shirt and dark jeans, and his ginger hair was pushed back from his face in an annoyingly perfect kind of way. He looked uncertain, though, like now that this was officially my bedroom, he’d be intruding to cross the threshold. That was fine with me.
“Yeah, I guess.” I looked around. Michael had handed me the air mattress and sleeping bag, and I dropped them next to the window that overlooked the yard. “Not really that much to do. Are there projects we can start on today?” The sooner we got everything done, the sooner we could both get on with our lives. As long as it had been six months, that was.
“There are. Meet me in the dining room in a few minutes, and I’ll show you the project plan I’ve been working on?”
He made a project plan? I wasn’t sure why that bothered me, except if this was our project, if we were equal partners, then the idea that he was somehow leading the charge was annoying.
“Okay,” I said, unable to keep the irritation out of my voice.
He left me then, and I stood in the center of the dusty old room and looked around. The space was nice, and it was flooded with late-afternoon light, giving it a golden glow. But it felt stale and stagnant, and smelled like ancient ammonia and old clothes. Not dirty, but not clean. Just...old. And not quite empty, either.
Maybe it was the old sleigh bed pushed against the wall, its rolling headboard standing strong in contrast to the wallpaper tattering around it, but it felt like someone else’s space. Like I was an intruder. It made me shiver slightly, so I busied myself rolling out the air mattress and putting the sleeping bag on top of it.
“This is the flattest air mattress I’ve ever seen,” I grumbled. The thing was anemic, flattened and thin. I looked for a spout to blow into, but didn’t find one. There was some kind of doodad on the corner, a plastic protrusion, but its use was not obvious. I tried blowing into it, but it did nothing. “Great. This one’s broken.” I glanced back toward the door, not especially wanting to look helpless or needy in front of Michael Tucker.
I sighed, and smoothed the sleeping bag on top of it. It was going to be a long night. Glancing back at the bed, I wondered how horrible it would really be to sleep on mouse-eaten foam rubber or cotton. Maybe I could just sneak back to Mom’s for the night. But I didn’t want to explain that to her or to Michael. And not sleeping in the house wasn’t really living in it, and probably wouldn’t fulfill the terms of the trust. Anders had promised he’d be by now and then per the terms to check on us.
One night wouldn’t kill me. I’d figure something out for tomorrow. brushed my hands on the legs of my jeans and headed downstairs to meet Michael.
He was sitting at the dining room table, a laptop open in front of him, and an empty chair pulled to his side.
“Hey,” he said, looking uncertain as I stepped into the room. “Will you come take a look at the plan I put together?”
