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I gently squeeze his hand. "Appreciate it. Hoping someday I can pay it forward."
"You sitting on this balcony making me think back to the fishing cabin and getting Sherry to promise me forever? That's paying it forward. Can't think of anything better I'd want from any of my kids. Bring me her memories. Let me be young and so in love I couldn't keep my hands off her. Best days of my life. Well, apart from our wedding, my kids, and meeting you. Thank you, son."
Again with the son. I'm not sure how to express it all back. It's too jumbled in my head. Maybe I don't need to say anything. He wants someone to listen to him and appreciate his words. And I do.
I hug his slender frame. He pats my shoulder and grips my hand in an upright shake.
***
Late Sunday night, I'm sitting in my apartment and a text comes through from her brother. Now I'm regretting giving that asshole my number before the last fight.
Donnie: Need a favor, bud.
I am not his buddy. Not at all. But I'll play along to see what he's aiming for.
Me: What kind?
Donnie: Deliver some packages for me.
Oh shit. He's dragging me into something. It's got to be a set up.
Me: I'm not an errand boy.
Donnie: My father wants to see if you can earn his trust.
What? His father wants me to deliver packages for Donnie? To earn trust?
It's shady as hell but damn, this is my chance. I want to know what Donnie is shipping and how his father treats people he trusts.
Me: What's my cut?
Donnie: 10%.
Me: Fuck that.
Donnie: 15%.
Me: 50% or nothing.
Nothing from him for a few minutes. He's probably shitting his pants because he wants to deliver for his dad but doesn't want to give me half of his profits.
Donnie: I'll text you the details.
Yes. I'm not sure what just happened, but if Henry's right, she needs me. Donnie's offering me an in. Her dad is interested in me. I gotta take it and see where it goes.
Chapter 8 Fairy Lights
Mila
Sunflower fairy lights hang from my bedroom ceiling in row after row of long, dangling strands. Bumblebee lights mingle between them. It took me forever to put them up today. I used removable hooks so my dad wouldn't accuse me of ruining his ceiling.
Cello music plays softly in the background, not too loud so I don't anger my father. The music mashes up modern love songs with classical style. It should be a relaxing evening, but it's not. I can't stop crying. I'm stuck in this room and no amount of lights can take away the dark.
Tap-tap-tap.
I sit up in my bed and stiffen at the noise. What was that?
Tap-tap-tap.
