Six Months Read online

  The streets were black as sin, as if something hellish were preparing to crawl up from the underbelly of the earth. Fat drops of rain assailed the windshields of passing cars, and the wind began to bend the trees in the parking lot. I hurried to the back room, my heart galloping. I stood amid a wooden bench, a plastic chair, a vending machine, a silver water fountain, and a unisex bathroom. It was where I retreated at night, after hours. I’d lie on the bench and read one of my novels until my sister knocked on the front door after her shift ended at Sonic.

  Lexi strolled in and examined the antiquated vending machine to her left. “You know what? I think I’m going to request a new line of snacks for this thing,” she announced.

  I sat on the floor to the right of the bench and stretched out my legs, crossing them at the ankle. We each wore matching uniforms: bright orange shirts with the store logo written in cursive across our chests and white skirts that stopped just above the knee. My legs looked ghostly compared to Lexi’s warm complexion. She had stunning legs, a cascade of silken hair, a lean frame, and a beautiful shade of whiskey-brown eyes. I also had a slim figure, but more endowed up top and thicker thighs.

  Were men more attracted to brunettes when it came to serious relationships? I had hazel eyes—sea green with brilliant flecks of copper. Smokey eyeliner made them appear larger, although it sometimes gave me the appearance of a punk-rock girl. I wanted men to notice me, but after having spent a good part of high school looking like a stereotype, I decided I’d rather be admired for my brains and heart. I worked with what I had, but not in a way that garnered negative attention.

  “We need to dump out all these snacks we don’t eat and change the inventory,” she said, looking at the contents in the machine.

  “Good. I want those little chocolate donuts.”

  “Do they still sell those?” She spun around and knitted her brows.

  “Neither of us eats that junk and God knows how long it’s been in there. Is it our machine, or does it belong to an outside vendor?”

  Lexi twisted her mouth to the side. “Good question. I’m not sure. If it’s ours, the key might be in one of the envelopes at home. I bet this bad boy is ours. I’ve seen those cute vendors in their shorts refilling the machines in some of the stores, so I know someone would have come around asking about it by now,” she said, patting her hand on the glass. “The last time I bought something was two months ago. Only an idiot would put a snack machine in a candy store.”

  “We stare at sugar all day long and that’s what Charlie gave us to snack on? May he rest in peace, but that man didn’t have his head screwed on right.”

  We both laughed and Lexi fished out a few coins from a Styrofoam cup we kept on top of the machine. “Oh my God, wouldn’t it be awesome if it’s ours? We can put whatever we want in it. Cookies?”

  “I like animal crackers.”

  She wrinkled her nose.

  “Ding Dongs?” I suggested.

  “Now you’re talking. A man machine. My friend, Naya, would totally love that concept. What kind do you want? Dark and handsome, tattooed and dangerous, a sexy jock, nerdy and hot…”

  “That’s not what I meant.” I removed a candy barrette from my pocket and clipped my bangs away from my face. The hard rain made a clamor against the rooftop.

  “I know what you meant, April. We could always put PMS pills in there,” she said with a snort. “Sorry, just having some fun. What’s wrong with you today? You’re always in a better mood.”

  “You’re asking me what’s wrong while tornado sirens are blaring outside?” The lights flickered and my heart did a quickstep. I felt an urge to run outside. Despite the fact it was storming, being in the open made me feel safe. I hated the dark.

  Hated.

  I’d been known to have panic attacks in a dark room.

  Lexi sat on the bench and fumbled with her new phone, sending a text message. “Austin says everyone is okay at the house,” she said in a distant voice. “The storm is south of them and all they see are a few dark clouds. He wants us to sit tight.”

  “Sounds like a man with a plan,” I said facetiously. “What was our other option? Because I was thinking we could dance naked in the street with a few gumdrops stuck to our nipples.”

  Lexi burst out laughing and texted feverishly with a devilish grin. Then her brows popped up and I knew she was giving Austin the full visual. I could only imagine what his reply was.

  A terrible thought crossed my mind. What if something happened to my trailer?

  My grandma was sixty-five when she died from lung cancer two years ago. It didn’t come as a surprise since her health had been declining. Some people inherited money, jewelry, or even a house when a family member died. I got a trailer and a stack of bills. The student loans weren’t as bad as I’d imagined, and as tough as it was, I didn’t drop out. Rose had worked part time and helped with some of the expenses until I got a job at Sweet Treats. Grandma had given us a roof over our heads and fussed a lot, but we were grateful she’d taken us in after Mom had left us. Each Friday, she made a trip to the gas station and bought a wad of scratch-off lottery tickets and a carton of Marlboros. I’d had no idea how much debt she had incurred until after her death. Maybe if she’d taken out a loan from the bank it might have gone away, but I quickly found out she’d dealt exclusively with loan sharks. These men didn’t let a coffin get in the way of getting back their money. I had to ignore them for a while until the funeral was paid for, but after that, I squared away her debt. I was finally in a good place where I could put aside money and save for an apartment.

  I bent my knees when something rapped against the glass at the front of the store. “Do you think the hail will blow out the windows?”

  Lexi stood up and peered around the doorway. “Hail doesn’t fly sideways. Well, usually. Someone’s outside—be right back.”

  “Lexi, this is the part of the horror movie where I’m supposed to scream don’t do it! But that’s okay. Let the serial killer inside. Be sure to show him the cash drawer while you’re at it!” I yelled at the empty doorway.

  The bell jingled and I grabbed my oversized brown purse and dug around for my charcoal eyeliner. I flipped open a compact and did a little touch-up. Not that I needed makeup, but it kept me from going into freak-out mode. Thirty more minutes, I kept telling myself. Severe storms ended quickly unless there was a squall line.

  “You’re paying for those,” Lexi grumbled as she breezed into the room. Her tennis shoes squeaked against the white floor when she spun around and sat on the bench to my right.

  I lifted my eyes to a tall man with a mop of wavy blond hair. Not bright blond, but a sexy color with a few dark shades mixed in. He had the face of an angel and the indigo eyes of a devil. He could have been a male model in a fashion magazine. When he raked his fingers through his hair, he revealed a prominent scar on his forehead. But it just added to the allure.

  He also had about twenty gummy worms shoved in his mouth. After chewing most of them up, he looked down and grinned. “I don’t believe we’ve met, honeypie,” he said with a mouthful. “I’ve heard a lot about you from Ben.”

  Oh. Ben.

  Lexi’s new boyfriend had a bunch of brothers. I’d met two of them a couple of months ago when the electric company shut off our power. Ben and Wheeler were identical twins—except Ben had a perverted mouth and Wheeler had tats and chin hair in the shape of a circle beard. The mean-looking one didn’t say much and seemed like a guy who liked to pound people’s faces in. Ben might have been clean-cut, but he couldn’t take his dirty eyes off my ass. If I had to guess their age, I’d say around thirty. The man in the doorway had the same look about him—youthful and yet seasoned, but something flickered in his eyes and made me second-guess myself.

  “I’m April Frost,” I said with a subtle wave of my hand.

  “Denver Cole,” he replied, swallowing the last bite of candy. “I’m here to save the day, so you girls just sit tight and I’ll protect you.”
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  Lexi sighed and crossed her legs. “What are you doing on this side of town?”

  “Austin sent me to check on you since I was in the area. Your mother ordered curtains,” he grumbled. “Can’t she just get them at Walmart like everyone else? No. She has to special order them,” he said, using his fingers to make quotation marks. “They’re in the back of the truck. I hope a tornado blows them all the way to Mexico.”

  “Why would you wish something like that?” I wondered aloud.

  He quirked a brow. “They’re lacy with flowers and shit on them. Sorry, but men outnumber the women in our house. Every time I see a doily or a new flower arrangement, my balls get a little bit smaller. Speaking of, you got any malt balls in there?”

  Denver wandered over to the vending machine and put his hands on top of it, tilting it forward. The lights in the store flickered.

  “Stop doing that,” Lexi said, losing her patience.

  Then it happened. Total blackout.

  A rising tide of panic set in and I catapulted to my feet. Before I knew it, I was unlocking the main door and running into the street. Lexi yelled from behind me, and the wind funneled my short hair around my head, whipping my bangs in front of my face. A few grains of sand stung my eyes as the wind battered me with relentless force.

  Suddenly, a strong arm hooked around my waist and lifted me off the ground.

  “Are you a bag of nuts?” Denver shouted over the wind as he hauled me back inside.

  The lights flickered back on and he set me on my feet. Lexi watched with wide, uncertain eyes as he shut the door and the bell jingled wildly.

  My heart pounded against my chest like a drummer in a parade.

  Denver grumbled and folded his arms. “Saving damsel in distress: check. Nearly crapping pants while standing in the middle of a fucking tornado: check.”

  Lexi wrapped her arms around me and we stood in the center of the room. “Sorry, April. I’m on the verge of freaking out too, even though it doesn’t show much. My coping mechanism is denial. We’ll be fine.”

  Denver stuck his hand in a bin full of chocolates and I walked over and grabbed the collar of his T-shirt, yanking him back. “Those are for paying customers. We can’t afford to just give it away.”

  When he winked at me, I got flustered and let go.

  Something hard jabbed into my back and I glanced over my shoulder at the corner of the shelf. I pivoted around and knocked several bags of candy on the floor. Denver chortled, pinching his chin as he watched me step on them.

  A flush of heat stung my cheeks.

  Handsome or not, I hadn’t made up my mind if I liked him. I certainly didn’t enjoy being a klutz in front of any guy. I possessed an inner monologue voice that loved to criticize. Now she was saying, Smooth move.

  Why did I have to turn stupid around men? I’d been in a relationship before. Then again, Nathan had cheated on me constantly, so maybe it hadn’t given me enough experience with men. Who had time to date? I had to focus on work and savings before I ended up living under a bridge, which was a frightening possibility if I suffered one financial misstep. No guy wants a girl with that much baggage at the airport.

  “You’re kind of cute,” he said with a handsome smirk. “If I had a tail, I’d wag it.”

  “Leave my friend alone, Denver,” Lexi scolded.

  “I don’t wear a leash,” he replied. “Nor a muzzle. Ah, hell. Looks like the storm’s over.”

  We glanced out the windows and sure enough, sunlight sprayed onto the street through a break in the clouds. Denver angrily tucked the back of his thin T-shirt into his faded jeans, which were so frayed at the ends, long pieces of thread dragged on the ground.

  “Maybe I can throw those curtains in the road and tell ’em we got hit hard.”

  “Do that and my mom will never cook you another seasoned pork chop again,” Lexi said in an amused voice, folding her arms and tilting her head.

  “Am I done saving lives now?” Denver said gruffly. “I came here to be a nice guy for a change and all I get is heat. I’m outta here. Tell Aus I’ll be home later; I’m going to check out a new place up the road. I hear they got a three-story laser-tag room. If that’s true, then we’re going,” he said, circling his finger to everyone in the room and invisible parties not present.

  Denver had an easygoing personality with a flair for humor, and sometimes that was a good quality for a man to have. The only thing I didn’t care for was how he’d walked in on a tense situation and had done little to keep me calm. I respected men who knew how to take charge, although I’d never known one outside of a paperback novel. Maybe they didn’t exist.

  “Oh, no,” Lexi gasped, staring at her phone. “April, I need to go home early. Can you handle the rest of the shift alone, or do you need me to be here? I have an emergency.”

  “Not a problem,” I said.

  “What’s wrong?” Denver asked in a serious tone, his brows slanting down.

  Lexi’s brown eyes flashed up. “Maizy’s hurt.”

  His face tensed and he clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white. “What happened?”

  “She fell off the new swing and hit her mouth. They’re taking her to the—”

  The bell jingled and Denver jogged toward an old yellow truck. Lexi grabbed her purse and followed close behind.

  Chapter 2

  A few minutes after ten o’clock, I decided to flip our sign in the window to Closed and lock up the store. The scent of rain hung heavy in the air, and I dreaded the walk home. I absolutely loved getting up early and walking to work, but after dark was another story.

  Lexi assumed I rode the bus. She had no idea the bus didn’t go that route. My house was close to a five-mile walk and it gave me plenty of exercise, which I enjoyed. I don’t think my legs had seen muscle tone in all my life until the last two weeks after my car had broken down. The first three nights were a killer, but after that, I’d managed to build up my stamina and it gave me a boost of energy in the morning.

  Most of the walk was along a busy street… until the turnoff just beyond the railroad tracks. Then I had to cut across open ground. I got spooked by sudden noises and shadows moving about. Each night, I’d slip on my dark track pants and hoodie so I wouldn’t stand out.

  I looked like a burglar.

  After three miles of singing “Piano Man” by my all-time favorite singer, tiny raindrops began to dampen my cheeks.

  “Shoot,” I said, kicking a small rock as I hurried up the wet sidewalk.

  At least we were having a mild October and the cold weather hadn’t kicked in yet. While my goal was to get an apartment, I’d been giving serious thought to buying a car first. It all depended on whether or not I could find an apartment near a bus route. I didn’t think I’d be able to continue walking once the temperature decided to drop.

  The steady rain beat a staccato rhythm on the parked cars, and an SUV swerved so close to the curb that a wave of water splashed over me.

  “Thank you!” I yelled with a laugh, waving my drenched arm as the car sped away.

  Probably a decent guy trying to rush to the store to grab dinner for his wife and kids. I held my elbows tightly as a memory jostled loose in my head—one I’d just as soon not think about.

  Every so often, I glanced over my shoulder at a strange clicking sound coming from behind me. Each time I stopped and turned around, I was confronted by a long stretch of shadows and concrete, but no boogeyman.

  “I’m hearing things, I’m hearing things,” I sang to myself—the sort of thing you do when you’re alone and on the brink of running home like a frightened child. The streets were brightly lit and passing cars provided me with a sense of security, at least until I reached the wooded area.

  “This is not my life,” I said to my wet shoes. “I should be like all the other women my age—going to happy hour with friends and flirting with attractive men. Instead, I like to read and play Scrabble. Then again, I’ve never been successful with flirting.
Just ask the last guy. He ended up wearing condiments on his shirt after standing beside me in the burger joint. I tried talking to him and wound up slinging a half-opened packet of ketchup on his white shirt. He actually walked off without saying another word! That was so mortifying. Maybe I’d have better luck meeting someone on the Internet.”

  I chuckled nervously and peered over my shoulder. A shadow snaked behind a building and my heart palpitated.

  No one was there, but I quickened my step.

  I pulled out my phone and sent Lexi a text message. She had recently purchased her first cell phone and so we kept in touch more often. She hadn’t figured out all the acronyms, and I’d sometimes make up one just to drive her crazy.

  When I finally reached the turnoff that led to my trailer, I was in a full sprint. My purse slapped against my back and my shoes slipped twice in the mud. A gravel road led through the park, but it was too far ahead and not worth the extra walk.

  Panting for breath, I reached the door and scraped the mud off my shoes on a large cinder block. Sometimes I wondered how all three of us had lived in that thing. My sister had shared the bed with Grandma, and I’d snuggled up on the built-in sofa.

  I stood on the step and tugged off my sopping-wet sneakers. When I unlocked the door and went inside, my nose wrinkled. I must have burned a million scented candles in there, but it’s like the ghost of Grandma Frost was permanently fragranced within. She had a thing about using mothballs and it took five months after she died to get that funk out of there. I’d never been able to expunge of the smell of cigarettes. I think the tar had seared into the walls.

  “Hey, little guys,” I said cheerfully, tapping my finger on the round fishbowl sitting on the counter straight ahead.

  Hermie and Salvador paddled in sprite little motions, alert and joyful that it was feeding time. I dropped a few pellets of food in the water and moved toward the back of the trailer.

  Just to the left of the kitchenette was a hallway that led to the bathroom on the right, closet to the left, and the bedroom straight ahead. I peeled out of my shirt and pants and hung them on a towel rack in my tiny bathroom, which I’d painted a cheery color. I think the name of the paint was called Songbird Yellow. Someday I hoped to have my own garden tub where I could slip beneath a layer of bubbles and read by candlelight. But for now, I made the best of a home that was the length of a few cartwheels.