Page 14 of Run to Me

Lucy crooks a finger at him. “Come here.”

She whispers in his ear, and a red flush creeps up his neck from whatever she’s telling him. I’m sure I don’t want to know. These two are freaks in the sheets and everywhere else. I’m aware of their preferences because Lucy spent many nights with Rock when he lived with me.

“The double-ended one?” he whispers hopefully, but he’s incapable of whispering with his deep bass voice, so I hear everything.

When Lucy nods, the corners of his mouth twitch, his face’s equivalent to a kid hyped up on sugar at the county fair. He bundles up Marcella in her tiny coat and blanket, then tosses me the middle finger on his way out the front door.

“You’re a saint,” I tell Lucy, shaking my head.

A grin lights up her face. “He’s not so bad if you know how to handle him.”

I raise my hands, throwing up a barrier against her ongoing efforts to treat me like a bestie. “Keep it to yourself.”

She giggles, but the humor fades when she brings us back to the topic of Vera. “Losing control of bodily functions is never a good sign, and I have a feeling it’s been going on for a while. I also think she has trouble seeing.”

“I noticed that earlier. It’s like she was looking through me.”

Nodding, she chews the corner of her lip. “She should definitely see her doctor. From what little I know of her symptoms, she may need to see a neurologist too. I can call my dad and find out if he has any openings for a consultation, depending on what Vera’s primary doctor says.”

Lucy’s dad owns a neurology practice in San Antonio, a two-hour drive from Walford, which means the time spent driving there and back, plus the appointment, will take up most of a day. A day I don’t have.

“Should Vera be driving?” I ask.

If her legs don’t work, and her sight is failing, anything could go wrong if she got behind the wheel. It’s not a risk I’m willing to take after my own parents died in a car crash.

“No. Someone will have to take her.”

Shit. I rest a hand on a hip and scratch my beard, running all the options through my head while meeting Lucy’s sympathetic stare. She’s never voiced her opinion on the issue, but she’s aware of my tendency to spread myself too thin.

My schedule is the least of my problems though. Long ago, Vera shut herself off from Walford to wallow in grief. She doesn’t have any close friends or a support system. Aside from me and her coworkers, she hardly interacts with people, and she won’t allow just anyone to know her business. She’s too damn stubborn and proud. Just like Maisy.

“I’ll figure it out,” I say.

“Okay. Let me know what else I can do to help.”

“Thanks. I owe you one.”

We bump knuckles because I hugged her once, and Rock threatened to dig my grave. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s watching us through the window as we speak. There’s possessive, and there’s James Rockford Harrison III. But Lucy revels in his behavior, provokes it even, so I keep my mouth shut.

After she leaves, I remove the cushion covers from the dryer and situate the living room. On the end table, Vera’s phone vibrates with a text message. I can’t read the entire conversation, but the part displayed in the notification is enough to get my heart racing.

Maisy

I’ll pick it up tomorrow afternoon.

Finally, my weekly visits with Vera have paid off. Ever since Maisy moved away from Walford, I’ve tried catching her when she sneaks into town, but she evades me every time. I usually don’t learn about her appearances until she’s long gone. But tomorrow, I’ll be watching and waiting.

Reading the text again, I smile to myself as a triumphant voice declares victory in my head.

Caught you, birdie.

5

MAISY

“I can’t live on potato chips alone. My body needs fresh vegetables,” Graham says.

He wads his empty chip bag into a ball and tosses it on the table. Because of the tight filming budget, the only way he can afford to feed the cast and crew is by stocking his trailer with sandwich ingredients and chips. Lots of chips.