Chapter 7

  Taylor stormed into the kitchen, her fists clenched at her sides as she glared at Danny sitting at the table. “How could you call Rhiyen a long term problem?” she demanded, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt. “You don’t know get to put him down and then offer him a job, like he has to prove himself to you.”

  Danny looked up, clearly surprised by her outburst. “Taylor, I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m just saying, the kid doesn’t exactly have a lot of prospects right now.”

  Taylor’s chest tightened, her emotions bubbling over. “That’s not fair, Dad!” Her voice cracked.

  Danny sighed, running a finger around the lip of his coffee mug. “Taylor, I’m just trying to look out for you. I want you to be with someone who—”

  “Who what? Who checks all your boxes?” she interrupted, her eyes blazing. “Did Gram use that line on you when you were dating mom?”

  Danny opened his mouth to respond but hesitated. Taylor’s words hung in the air, and the silence between them felt heavy, charged with the weight of unspoken feelings. “Where did you get that from?”

  “Mom told me, when I asked her why we only saw Gram at Christmas. Gram had a lot of plans for Mom that never included meeting someone like you. Getting pregnant with me changed all that.” Taylor thumped into a chair with a sigh. “We’re just figuring out what ‘us’ might look like. You’re acting like he proposed marriage.”

  Danny sputtered. “Marriage! It’s much too early for that.”

  “No kidding!” Taylor’s sarcasm was sharp. “Did you and mom talk about whether you wanted to have children on your first date?”

  Danny winced.”No, we talked about books we liked to read. She didn’t want anything serious, at first.”

  Taylor’s expression changed, anger mixed with something rawer, deeper. “You don’t get to do this,” she finally said, her voice low but trembling with emotion.

  “Do what?” Danny asked, sitting up straighter.

  “Tell me who I can and can’t be with,” she snapped. “You weren’t there, Dad. When Mom died, you—” Her voice cracked, and she took a deep breath, willing herself to keep going. “You pulled away. You were lost in your grief, and I get that, I do. But I had to deal with mine too, and I had to do it all alone.”

  Danny’s face fell, his mouth opening as if to protest, but she pressed on.

  “The bullying was so bad, I couldn’t see a way out. Either I fought back and ended up in jail, or I just... let them win and ended it all.” Her voice dropped, the vulnerability in her tone cutting through the tension. “I felt like I was drowning, and… you didn’t even notice. But Rhiyen did. He was there for me when no one else was. He listened. He cared.”

  “I - I’m sure you would have been okay.” Danny looked stricken, guilt washing over his features. “Taylor, I didn’t—”

  “You didn’t,” she interrupted, her voice sharp. “You weren’t there, and now you think you can swoop back in and decide who’s worthy of me? That’s not how this works, Dad.”

  Danny leaned forward, his hands clasped tightly. “I didn’t mean to make you feel that way, Taylor. I thought I was protecting you.”

  Taylor shook her head, tears stinging her eyes. “If you want to protect me, then trust me to know what I need. And right now, I need you to stop judging Rhiyen just because his life doesn’t look perfect to you.”

  The silence that followed was thick and heavy. Danny looked down at his hands, his face etched with regret. Taylor stood and left the room, her heart pounding as she climbed the stairs, unsure if she felt lighter for saying it or just more tired.

  O*O*O

  The following morning, I arrived at the normal time for our before-school jog. Taylor was a little surprised I still wanted to run, but I assured her that I was used to starting off the day like this. I also admitted that I wanted to see her for more than a couple of minutes, which earned me a shy smile.

  It was cold and dark, but I barely registered it as I ran beside Taylor. She was heavily bundled up against the cold in my peripheral vision, nonetheless I had trouble keeping my eyes on the road. I slept better last night than the night before. However, I still spent a lot of time thinking before nodding off. Taylor actions and words had ignited something inside me, especially her reaction after I broke down about Karen.

  I’d always expected showing weakness would drive people away. Elise taught me that lesson, I supposed. Did Taylor want a chance to protect me too? I helped her because it was the right thing to do, but it was weird having that standard applied on my own behalf. I never expected thinking about that horrible night would have such a… visceral… effect on me. But I should have expected it. That was the first time I had had someone I cared about die, and I was close enough to hear all the details. Having someone hold me in the worst of it was… I do not have words to describe it.

  I told her all my secrets, and yet I still felt safe as houses. I had someone I could trust with no reservations. Getting up early to run with her was a privilege, not a burden.

  Our cooldown exercises were a bit less awkward minus Taylor’s balaclava. I could not stop myself from helping untangle her hair, which had her blushing. I really liked the feel of the curly locks as I ran my fingers through them, straightening them a bit. I kept recalling how it felt as we stretched our legs and backs. Finally, she gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and scampered upstairs like a mischievous child.

  My smile lasted until I joined Danny in the kitchen. He was scrambling eggs to join some hashbrowns staying warm in another pan. I wondered if I should offer to buy them some eggs again. His earlier refusal to accept repayment sat differently now that I know better what he thought of me. Was it possible that he considered feeding me a hot breakfast each morning was payment for bodyguard duties? Resolving the so-called short-term problem, I grumbled to myself.

  When Danny handed me my plate, I broke the silence with a quiet “Thanks.” I quickly ate my food, so I’d be ready to head up when Taylor was done showering. When I was rinsing my plate, I spoke again, “If I will be making better money from the Union, I should probably start contributing to the morning groceries.”

  “That’s not necessary,” Danny replied immediately.

  “I think it is,” I shot back. “You don’t have to pay me to take care of Taylor,” I said in a quiet voice. “I do it because I want to.”

  “I never said I needed to-“ he began.

  “I’m working at the Docks today,” I interrupted, my voice low and steady, “to prove that I can hold down a steady job, so I won’t be a… long term problem, correct?”

  Danny took a deep breath. “I’ve had it pointed out to me that I was way out of line when I said that. And I apologize, I was being overprotective and judgmental.”

  I blinked. What the hell? “I, uh, accept your apology.”

  “Thank you. Taylor is in probably the best shape of her life, and she hasn’t so much as pulled a muscle, or had someone look at her twice. That has required you getting up at least an hour early every day for months, and that’s worth a lot more to me than a few hot breakfasts, okay?”

  “Okay, Mr. Hebert,” I replied.

  He frowned. “I thought I was Danny to you,” he said, sounding a little sad.

  “You’re going to be Mr. Hebert at work,” I explained, “and I don’t want to slip up later today. That would be awkward.”

  He gave a wry smile. “Okay, can’t fault your reasoning. But please tell Taylor why if she asks,” he requested.

  I nodded.

  I’d just cleaned my plate and utensils when Taylor came downstairs to inform me that the shower was free. I grabbed my backpack with my clean work clothes and headed upstairs. The bathroom was still a little steamy when I entered, and there, in the middle of the mirror was a large heart drawn with a smiley face.

  I couldn’t help but smile as I got undressed.

  O*O*O

  I made sure I was done with my shower and ready to go when Mr. Hebert needed to leave for the Docks. Taylor was waiting by the door as I followed him out. She gave me a hug as I paused. Her hair smelled amazing.

  “See you tonight,” she whispered.

  I nodded and followed Mr. Hebert out to the car. Before he started the engine, he handed me some documents and a clipboard with a pen. “Go ahead and get started on those while I drive. When we get to the office, I’ll check with Kurt and see which crews need help. We get a lot of people calling out sick this time of year.”

  I picked up the pen and started on the forms. “That’s a lot of what I’ve been doing at the library, filling in for people calling out.”

  “You’d think working inside, they could stay healthy easier,” Mr. Hebert said.

  “I think some of them were afraid of the Empire thugs,” I said carelessly.

  “Why are they harassing the library?” he asked quickly.

  “They hosted an exhibition on the Holocaust last fall, and it pissed Kaiser off,” I replied. “He started having punks try to intimidate employees as they left work to send a message.”

  “That’s not someone to take lightly,” he observed. “Is this going to cause you any problems?” he asked carefully.

  I shrugged. “I don’t think so. They made their point, and the police department is now going to have a cruiser on hand when the library closes.”

  He nodded thoughtfully and I went back to filling out tax forms.

  The Dockworkers Association was headquartered in a nondescript building huddled between a couple of warehouses. I dutifully followed Mr. Hebert in with my completed forms. He led us back to a cluttered office and asked me to sit down while he reviewed the forms.

  “Everything looks to be in order,” he said after a moment. “I’m going to ask Kurt to take you around to one of the work crews that are short men. Day shift ends at five, but I’m usually here until quarter of six if you have any questions you’d like to ask. Otherwise, the bus on the corner runs until nine.”

  I nodded as I digested this.

  Mr. Hebert picked up his desk phone. “Caroline? Is Kurt there? Can you ask him to swing by my office, please?”

  A couple of minutes later, a big burly man with a bushy black beard entered the room. “Yeah, Danny?”

  “This is Rhiyen Conner, he’s going to be pulling a tryout shift today. Can you take him to whoever needs help the most? Unskilled, of course. Rhiyen, this is Kurt McTavish.”

  Kurt eyed me as I stood up. “Mr. McTavish,” I said respectfully.

  “All right, come along,” he said as he strode out of the office. The cold December air seemed to part before him as we moved between buildings, heading toward the bay. “So, you’re the lad Steve fished out of the drink last spring. No memory of how you got there either,” he continued, fixing me with a gimlet eye.

  “That’s right,” I agreed.

  “Taylor spent a lot of time talking about you last weekend,” he added.

  “She’s my best friend,” I stated. She was more than that, but I wasn’t about to get into that right now. Kurt seemed a bit hostile for some reason.

  “And she’s my goddaughter,” Kurt shot back.

  And there it was. “I see,” was all I said. Clearly, he was out to make a point. I didn’t think Taylor would be too impressed with me if I socked her godfather, so I decided to just suck it up.

  “Yes, we will see,” he said as we approached a crew of men near the waterfront.

  “Charlie!” Kurt called out to a guy with black hair in coveralls.

  “Hey Kurt! Who’s the new kid?”

  “Danny brought him in. This is Taylor’s ‘friend’, Rhiyen Conner. Danny wants us to see if he can pull his weight in a real job.”

  “Oh, we’ll have to see about that,” Charlie said with a grin.

  I had a feeling this day was going downhill fast, but I couldn’t back out now – not without a clear cause. Part of me also wanted to make them eat their words.

  “I’ll take it from here,” Charlie said with a wink at Kurt. Kurt gave a smirk and strode away. “We’re tearing down some old fuel oil tanks that have been decommissioned,” Charlie continued as he gestured at the work site. There were three huge tanks that were in staggered states of disassembly. The first was little more than a huge pile of scrap steel, the second had half-disassembled walls and no roof, and the third appeared fully intact, but slightly tilted to one side. “Do you have any gear?” he asked.

  I shook my head.

  “I don’t suppose you know how to use a cutting torch?” Charlie asked dubiously.

  “Sorry,” I said as I shook my head again.

  He sighed. “Okay, I’ve got some spare work gloves. Use them and the wheelbarrow to haul that scrap steel around the corner to that open skip. Can you at least do that?”

  “No problem,” I said as he collected the bulky work gloves. They looked sturdy enough to handle the sharp edges on the steel plates of Tank Number one. I pulled them on, and they fit well enough.

  Picking up and piling irregular steel plates on an oversized wheelbarrow and hauling them off wasn’t the most exciting activity. But at least it was straightforward work that let me stretch my muscles. The cold sea air carried the acrid tang of hot metal from the cutting torches next door as I pushed the wheelbarrow away with my load.

  The walls of the skip were high enough that I had to lift the steel scrap to shoulder level to get them into the bed. Once I let go, they fell with a loud clang. When I came back, I noticed some of the men were watching me. Was I not supposed to be able to do this at all? Better to just brazen it out at this point.

  As I loaded up the wheelbarrow again, one of the welders walked by carrying an oxygen tank and stopped. “What the hell are they feeding you kids these days?” he asked in a bemused tone.

  “What?”

  “No offense but aren’t you a little on the scrawny side for all that?” he said with a grin.

  I shrugged as I put the next chunk down. “I go to Winslow,” I explained, smiling back.

  He snorted. “Yeah, that might explain it.” He was still chuckling as he continued over to Tank Number Two with his burden, and I resumed loading mine.

  Back and forth I went, zoning out a little. The chill air didn’t bother me, especially as I was constantly in motion. The bang and clatter of steel on steel faded into a dull cacophony as I made my circuits. But finally, I had to stop and seek out my crew chief.

  “Tired out?” he asked when I found him talking to two other guys. They started grinning at me.

  I shook my head. “Skip’s full. I can’t stack it up any more without something sliding out when they shift it.”

  Charlie frowned as the others stopped grinning. “Show me,” he said.

  I dutifully led him over to the construction skip. He frowned. “Okay, I’ll get a skip loader out here to empty it out this evening. In the meantime, follow me,” he said while holding his hands out for my gloves.

  Handing them over, I followed him past tanks one and two to number three. He opened an inspection hatch in the side and climbed in. I followed him in and found it lit from within by safety lights. The floor was noticeably tilted away from the door. The low end of the floor was awash in thick, sludgy oil.

  Not too far from the door was an opening in the wall that looked like an exit pipe. Around it was a newly added thick plastic basin that looked like a funnel leading into the opening. Standing next to the funnel, leaning against the wall was a rubberized scoop with a deep mouth.

  “Long after this tank was built,” Charlie began, “there was some subsidence under the foundation pad. Bad construction or bad luck, it doesn’t matter. What it does mean is that we can’t bring cutting torches near this until all the fuel oil is gone. So, I need you to scoop the oil out of the deep end over there and pour it into this funnel around the drain. That goes to a collection basin that gets pumped out and recycled separately. You don’t smoke do you?”

  “Never have,” I said.

  “Good. The scoop is rubberized to not strike sparks and the lights are safe, but if you light up in here it will likely be the last thing you ever do,” Charlie warned. “In the old days, we’d make everyone turn out their pockets, but we aren’t allowed to do that anymore.” He frowned. “Keep that door ajar or the fumes might knock you out. And try not to slip and fall.”

  With that, he left and I sighed. By the tilt of the floor, I would be at this for a while. The thick smell of the oil was already beginning to fill my nostrils.

  I made three trips with the heavily-laden scoop before I lost my footing for the first time.

  O*O*O

  The house smelled of garlic, basil, and simmering tomatoes as Taylor stirred the pot of homemade spaghetti sauce on the stove. She glanced at the clock for the hundredth time, her anxiety growing as Danny's usual arrival time drew closer. Cooking wasn’t something she did often, but today felt special—or at least, it was supposed to.

  Rhiyen’s first day of work with Dad. It was a big deal, and she wanted to do something for him, especially since she suspected how rarely he got to eat until he was full. After a morning trip to the grocery store, she’d spent the afternoon rolling and baking meatballs, leaving them to stay warm in the oven while she worked on the sauce. She’d even splurged on a baguette for garlic bread and had everything ready to come together just in time for dinner. She wiped her hands on a dish towel and checked the time.

  Danny’s car pulled into the driveway right on schedule. She heard the door open and close, his keys jingling as he came inside. He paused in the kitchen doorway, taking in the sight of the table set for three and the smell of homemade dinner.

  “You cooked?” he asked, clearly surprised.

  Taylor gave a small shrug, stirring the sauce again. “Yeah. For you and Rhiyen. Thought he deserved a good meal after his first day.”

  Danny set his work bag down, frowning slightly. “He didn’t come over to the office for a ride home. I figured he must’ve left early, maybe the work was too much for him.”

  Taylor froze, her grip tightening on the spoon. “What? No. If he left early, he’d already be here.” Her stomach twisted as unease settled over her. “Something’s wrong, Dad.”

  Danny hesitated, watching her face. “Taylor—”

  “I mean it,” she said firmly, her voice rising with a mix of worry and frustration. “He said he’d come here after work. He wouldn’t just go home without telling me. He’d be here.”

  Taylor swallowed hard, her heart pounding as she turned off the stove. Dinner could wait—Rhiyen couldn’t.

  Danny nodded slowly, his expression growing serious. “Okay. Let’s find out what’s going on. I’m calling Kurt.”

  Taylor sat down at the kitchen table as her father dialed the wall phone from memory. “Kurt, hey it’s Danny. Yeah. So, Rhiyen Conner. Right. Which crew did you bring him to? Charlie’s? He was breaking down those tanks, right? Why? Because he’s kind of missing… No, I don’t think you scared him off. What are you talking about? Did you see him when the shift ended? Look, I’m going to call Charlie. No, I remember his number. Right.”

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  He hung up and looked over at Taylor. “I’m going to talk to his crew lead.”

  “What did Kurt mean by ‘scare him off’ Dad?” Taylor asked warily.

  “I’m not sure,” he said. “I’d rather hear it directly from Rhiyen,” he added with a scowl.

  He dialed again. “Charlie? Yes, it’s Danny. What do you mean, you got him good? No. I want you to explain exactly what you did. So, he filled the skip a day early. That’s good. Wait, didn’t we agree to bring in a pump truck to deal with the tilt in tank three?” There was a pause, then, “Yes, because it was an incredible pain in the ass to deal with. Half your crew threatened to call out if we kept at it that way. So, you sent the new guy on his first day there. Great. What time did he clock out?” There was another pause. “What do you mean you don’t know? Did he quit working with the rest of your crew? You don’t know?!? Great. I want to see you and Kurt first thing in the morning.”

  Taylor looked at her father. She couldn’t deny he looked angry, which made her even more worried.

  He sighed and dialed another number. “Mabel? Hey, it’s Danny. Can you do me a favor? Can you check if Rhiyen Conner has clocked out yet? C-O-N-N-E-R. Wait. You logged him out ten minutes ago? Why? Because he didn’t want to mess up the floors? I see. Thank you.”

  Danny looked over at Taylor. “He’s probably on the bus now,” he said hopefully.

  Taylor did, in fact, feel some relief. But she still had questions. “Why was he worried about the floors?” she asked.

  “He, um, was evidently covered in oil,” her dad said, shamefaced.

  Taylor pushed back from the table. “Apparently the bullies aren’t only at Winslow,” she said scathingly.

  Danny winced.

  O*O*O

  To Taylor’s dismay, Rhiyen failed to appear any time soon. She made a few preparations for his arrival. But returned to look out the front windows every few minutes for over an hour.

  Finally, she saw a patch of darkness separate from the shadows along the street. It shuffled into the circle of illumination of the porch lights and she saw it was a very filthy Rhiyen. He was covered from head to toe with smears of a black oily liquid that seemed to glisten in the streetlights.

  In a flash, she was out the door. On the porch, her breath frosted in the cold, dark air. “Rhiyen? Are you okay?” She shivered, glad she’d thought to put on a jacket as she waited.

  “I’m okay now,” he said with a crooked, weary smile.

  “I was worried,” Taylor admitted. “Dad said you clocked out over an hour ago.”

  “I have discovered that if you are filthy enough,” Rhiyen said, “the bus drivers can, indeed, refuse you service.” He gave an odd little laugh, “which reminds me that I still have a long way home, so I better get moving.”

  “Absolutely not!” Taylor all but shouted. “You are in no condition to walk home. You must be freezing in those clothes!”

  Rhiyen blinked and cocked his head at her.

  “I’m serious. Anyone seeing you walking around in your condition would think there was something wrong with you! Now get inside where it’s warm.”

  That time he made the connection and ducked his head. “You’re right, I’m pretty miserable right now.” She wondered if he was thinking all right. For all his normal caution about revealing his abilities, he seemed really out of it. He shuffled up to the porch and awkwardly climbed the steps in his oil-soaked jeans. At least he remembered to avoid the bad step.

  When she opened the front door, it was revealed that a path made up of old newspapers ran from the front door up the stairs.

  He followed it carefully, weaving a little, which alarmed her. She ignored the muffled curse she heard from the kitchen.

  She’d never seen Rhiyen sick at all. She preceded him up the stairs and stopped next to the bathroom, which was open, and the newspaper path stopped next to the shower. “Take off everything,” she ordered, “and put it all in the black garbage bag and leave it outside the door. Dad will collect it, and we’ll wash everything with degreaser, even your sneakers and the parka. There’s a bottle of Fast Orange next to the soap in the shower. Use all you need to feel clean. One of my dad’s old bathrobes is on the counter when you are done.”

  “Wow, you thought of everything,” Rhiyen said as he walked though and turned. He shifted a little as he stood. “Thank you.”

  Taylor smiled at him, even as she grew more worried inside. Then she closed the bathroom door and began picking up oil-smeared sheets of newspaper.

  O*O*O

  The bathroom was already beginning to fog up by the time I managed to peel off my oily garments. I carefully placed each item in the garbage bag, taking care not to get any oil on the outside of the plastic. I then put the bag outside, trying not to get too much oil on the doorknob. My head was still swimming a bit from the fumes, some of which were coming from my own body now.

  The shower itself felt great. The warm water cascaded over my chilly skin, beading off the smears of oil. The cleanser Taylor mentioned made the whole bathroom smell like oranges when I squirted some on my hand. But it foamed up nicely as I lathered them up and could see the black smears running off my skin. It felt a little weird in my hair, but at least it was getting clean. I’d lost track of how many times I’d slipped and fallen in that damn tank. The third fall ended up breaking the cheap digital watch that was currently sitting on the counter.

  By the time I was clean, the water had gone chilly again and my head was fully clear. I was really glad the headache was fading. I dried off briskly, inhaling through my nose. The citrus smell was still overpowering, but it was better than the oil. The worn brown bathrobe was long enough, just a little tight across the shoulders. I made sure it was belted on extra tight before I opened the door.

  I padded out into the hallway and made my way downstairs. Taylor had been meticulous with the newspapers, and I couldn’t see a speck of oil tracked onto anything. When I reached the bottom, Taylor practically launched herself from the couch heading toward me.

  “Are you all right?” she asked breathlessly.

  “I am now,” I said with a smile.

  She hugged me tightly, and I leaned into it, inhaling the scent of her hair. I must have tickled something, because she suddenly shivered and turned her head a little. I hesitantly nuzzled a bit at the offered neck and her arms tightened around me. I swallowed hard and decided to file that bit of information away for a later examination. Like, when her father wasn’t around.

  I reluctantly loosened the embrace and Taylor stepped back; her face flushed.

  “We’re still on the first wash,” she said. “Dad said there was no way we’d be done before the busses stopped running, so he called the Landrys and told them you’d be staying over.” She paused, frowning. “Or rather, he told their answering machine.”

  “They never pick up,” I explained. “Unless they hear something on the answering machine that makes them want to.”

  She shook her head, then asked, “Are you hungry?”

  That was apparently the magic word, because I suddenly became acutely aware that I hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. I couldn’t help but snort at my own stupidity for missing lunch.

  “What’s so funny?” she asked, sounding a little hurt.

  “I’m starving,” I admitted, “and I just realized that I skipped lunch.”

  Taylor let out a little bark of laughter. “Well, I’ve got dinner ready for you.”

  “Really?” I asked, liking the sounds of this.

  “Yes, I just need to drop the spaghetti in the pot and then plate it up,” she said proudly, “come on.”

  O*O*O

  I never imagined that I’d end up eating some incredible homemade spaghetti and meatballs with Taylor and her dad, wearing nothing but a bathrobe. But there I was.

  “This is really, really good,” I said between bites. For probably the third time. I wasn’t just trying to fill the awkward silence either. Mr. Hebert was pretty much silent, but I wasn’t sure why.

  “It’s my mom’s recipe,” Taylor said, blushing a little.

  I wasn’t about to let her deflect well-earned praise, so I caught her eye and said quietly, “Then you must have inherited her palate as well as her recipes.”

  Mr. Hebert grunted his agreement, which made Taylor blush even harder.

  “You’re just saying that because you missed lunch,” she said.

  “Why did you miss your lunch?” Mr. Hebert asked suddenly, his eyes sharp.

  I shrugged. “I lost track of time when I was cleaning the tank. I broke my watch, and I think the fumes got to me a little bit.”

  He looked concerned. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I only stopped when I was done and looked outside. At that point, everyone was gone,” I said. “To be honest, I only got my appetite back once I was clean and I could smell normally again.”

  Mr. Hebert closed his eyes and the way the muscles in his jaw and mouth moved suggested he was counting to ten or higher. When he was done, his face was a bit red, and his voice was tight. “Rhiyen. I’d like to apologize. Charlie violated half a dozen union rules today, and it will likely be his last day as a crew chief after I talk to him in the morning.”

  My eyebrows shot up. Whatever reaction I had been expecting, this wasn’t it. Taylor looked a little surprised, mixed with something else. Approval? I don’t know. “I don’t think it should totally be on him,” I offered generously. “I was kind of stubborn about it as well. I felt like most of them were waiting for me to fail, so I did not want to give them the satisfaction.”

  “It doesn’t matter, Rhiyen,” Mr. Hebert disagreed. “Managing your workload and tasks is his job, especially when you are new, so that’s no excuse.”

  I nodded my acquiescence. This was his domain of expertise, not mine.

  “Furthermore, if the lightheadedness comes back, I’d like to take you in to get checked out. At Union expense,” he added.

  “I appreciate that,” I replied, even if I had no intention of ever seeing a doctor if I could help it. I noticed Taylor didn’t bat an eye either, bless her.

  I ended up eating two huge plates, indulging my appetite a little. Taylor was pleased, even if a little incredulous. By then, my clothes had been through two wash cycles, with the basin wiped out in between, and were starting to show progress. Taylor offered to take over supervision of the laundry from Danny, since he had work in the morning. I was given blankets and a pillow to sleep on the couch and encouraged to do so.

  I was kind of tired from the day, so I settled down and dozed, while Taylor stayed up until the washing was done. It was very late when the third cycle with the degreasing cleanser came back clear and everything went into the dryer. My sneakers were left out to dry in a separate cycle. I felt warm and safe with Taylor nearby, reading a Tolkien novel, and even with the lights on, I finally dropped off completely.

  I vaguely remember waking slightly in a darkened living room, with what I could smell was Taylor bending over me. I felt her lips brush mine and murmured a sleepy endearment before I dropped off again.

  O*O*O

  Taylor climbed the stairs, struggling to stay quiet as her heart threatened to burst out of her chest. Rhiyen’s reaction to her cooking had been gratifying enough to make her day. It made all the work entirely worth it, providing a happy counterpoint to the fear and anger that had filled her evening. She knew her dad well enough to know his temper, and people were going to find out all about it tomorrow. He’d been truly angered at what happened to Rhiyen, which was why she wasn’t quite as angry at Dad for Rhiyen being put in that position in the first place.

  Which was one reason she volunteered to stay up late monitoring the laundry. Her dad needed to be clear-headed tomorrow – she could sleep in. But as a tired and full (He’d eaten two huge plates of pasta, meatballs, and garlic bread!) Rhiyen drifted off, she found herself looking up increasingly often from her novel. His face looked different when he was asleep. Vulnerable, in some way that she found endearing. When she finally took his clothes out of the dryer and put in his damp sneakers, she came back to the living room. Then, she turned off all the lights, leaving only the illumination coming from the stairs.

  Acting on impulse, she quietly made her way over to Rhiyen’s sleeping form and bent down to let her lips brush his in an innocent good night kiss. She felt him stir slightly and then he murmured a sleepy something that sounded a lot like “love you”.

  Even thinking about those words almost made her stumble. It was difficult to make it to her room and shut off the hall light. As she undressed, she couldn’t help but glance at the mirror, wondering what he saw in her. Her stomach was finally flattened with all the running, but her chest was still nonexistent, and her legs and hips had muscle, but no curves. Just like the rest of her. She pulled on her nightshirt and sleeping shorts wearing a sullen frown.

  But then she remembered how it felt when they kissed. And she remembered a quote her mother had taught her from Dwight L. Moody: “Character is what you are in the dark.” In the dark, half-asleep, Rhiyen either said he loved her or something close. He evidently saw more in her than she did herself.

  Taylor’s desire to talk to her mother one last time, to have her help make sense of things, was never greater. She laid down, pulled the blankets over herself, and cried herself to sleep.

  O*O*O

  I woke late the following morning, well-rested on the Hebert’s surprisingly comfortable couch. Taylor was sitting nearby, reading The Hobbit again. “Good morning,” I rasped as I sat up, straightening my borrowed robe.

  “Good morning, Rhiyen,” Taylor said in a subdued voice.

  “Are you okay?” I asked carefully.

  “Yes,” she said. “Mostly.”

  At this point, I decided to be direct. “Is this anything I can help with?”

  “I don’t know,” she began. “When the laundry was done, you were asleep, so I turned off the lights. I came over here and… kissed you.”

  I smiled at her. “I vaguely remember that. You were very sweet.”

  Taylor took a deep breath. “You said something then, something that sounded like ‘love you’,” she said in a small voice.

  “Ah,” I said intelligently. “And you weren’t expecting that, were you?”

  She shook her head, her dark eyes looking huge behind her glasses.

  “Well, I won’t walk it back,” I said firmly. “If I said it, I said it. I was warm and cozy and feeling pretty affectionate toward you right then. Still am.”

  Taylor pinked up a bit.

  “That said,” I continued, “you don’t have to say anything back. Not until you want to. We’re not playing that ‘I said it, you have to say it back game’. That’s just manipulative.”

  Taylor looked stricken. “I wasn’t… I didn’t… I didn’t mean to imply I felt forced,” she explained.

  “Okay then,” I said. “Just say what you want when you want.”

  “That’s not it,” she said. “I just want to understand… understand why?”

  I stared at her, dumbfounded. “You… you’re not just fishing for compliments, are you?”

  “No, I just don’t get it,” Taylor burst out. “You look amazing. Emma couldn’t stop hitting on you most of the semester, and me… I’m… ugly.”

  “Bullshit,” I said. “You are not ugly. I am ridiculously attracted to you.”

  She swallowed nervously. I couldn’t help but watch her throat move. I wondered what it would be like to kiss it. “I’ve got a huge mouth like a frog,” she spat out suddenly.

  “I like your mouth,” I said breathlessly. “It feels amazing when I kiss you. It feels like just the right size.”

  “I finally got rid of my potbelly from running,” she admitted, “but I still have nothing up top. I look like a boy! How are you not embarrassed?” she blurted, her face pink.

  It was hard to stay seated, but I didn’t really have much choice at the moment. “It sounds like you’ll age better and have fewer back problems. Besides, size is a lot less important than other factors.”

  “Like what?”

  Struggling to keep my words clinical, I said, “Sensitivity. Responsiveness.”

  Taylor seemed to get the point and turned beet red. Her knees suddenly seemed very fascinating.

  “All right, I think I am going to take a very cold shower now, ok?”

  Taylor nodded, keeping her face down. “Your clothes are stacked on top of the dryer.”

  With that information, I beat a hasty retreat.

  O*O*O

  There really wasn’t time for us to run together before I had to leave, but we agreed to resume the following day. Taylor and I were a little stilted in our goodbyes. The unexpectedly frank nature of our last conversation made us both a little uneasy. As I rode the bus back to the Landry’s to catch up on chores, I tried to find a new equilibrium.

  I confronted the fact that my feelings for Taylor possessed a sensual component. But what was more disturbing was how negative her own self-image was. I remembered that the Witches Three and their allies had a whole year to get inside Taylor’s head before I even arrived at Winslow. It would take more than a few hugs and kisses to reverse the damage they’d done her. I even had a desolate moment when I wondered if I was even capable of the task. Then I reminded myself that I had absolutely nothing better to do with my time. And Taylor was worth the effort, no matter how long it took. Having settled that in my mind, I relaxed for the rest of the trip and planned what I needed to do.

  As soon as I reached the Landry’s, I exploded into action. I attacked all my tasks on the chore board. The trash was gathered and taken out. The laundry was started, and the accumulated dishes were washed. I grabbed a quick lunch and was out the door, headed for the library, by quarter after one.

  When I arrived a little early, Mrs. Andreas met with me to discuss the other shifts I could pick up. I wasn’t keen on re-visiting the Docks until memories of my disastrous first shift faded, especially if Charlie got demoted. So, I signed up for every shift I could, which was quite a few. News that I was available to fill in had spread, so some full-time employees were able to ask for vacation time that otherwise they wouldn’t have been able to.

  In short order, my break was filled out to a limited degree. I still had time to run with Taylor most mornings and hang out with her at other times of the day, so I was content.

  O*O*O

  Spending time with my new girlfriend was amazing. Just holding hands or sitting with an arm around each other watching a movie was a new experience. On evenings I wasn’t working, we’d sometimes watch a movie with Danny. The handholding didn’t seem to bother him too much, so I think he was getting used to the idea.

  I had to work on Christmas Eve, but the public library was closed Christmas Day. I left the Landry’s, who honestly didn’t do much with us on the day and joined Taylor and Danny in the afternoon. Cell phones were still a no go with Danny, so I went shopping on the Boardwalk one afternoon after a morning shift and found a nicely crafted music box for Taylor that played Mozart’s ‘The Magic Flute’. I was worried she’d find it too cringey, but she just smiled with tears in her eyes and hugged me, so I guessed I got it right. I felt a little odd buying something for Danny, so I asked Taylor. She’d been working on a collage of her mom for him but gave me a good idea. Danny was always losing pens at work, so I got him a set of nicely engraved high-quality pens that all said in a formal script: “Stolen from the Desk of Danny Hebert”. He laughed aloud when he unwrapped them. I gaped when I unwrapped the present from him. It was a pair of very nice black steel-toe work boots. He’d noticed my footwear was lacking when I worked on the Docks, but I was also thinking about how much damage these things could do if they had to. I could also tell they were made to last.

  Then Taylor gave me her present. I opened a small box and found a sterling silver pendant with the words “Gone but not forgotten” engraved on it. I felt my eyes sting as I looked over at Taylor, who chewed her lower lip uncertainly. I swept her up into a hug and whispered “thank you” into her ear. So many things those four words represented for both of us, but obliquely enough that my secrets were still safe. It was perfect.

  O*O*O

  Danny was having friends over for New Years and invited me as well. The library closed early on New Years Eve and was closed New Years Day, so I cleared it with the Landrys and told him I’d come. That permission of course required a lot of promised chores and snow shoveling, but it was worth it. Taylor would be there, and hopefully we’d get a chance to kiss as the ball dropped.

  When I arrived after leaving work, several trucks were parked on the street in front of the Hebert house. Evidently New Years in New Hampshire involves lots of beer and fireworks. Inside, Danny was organizing the pyrotechnics with Kurt and a couple of other guys, while Taylor was pouring bags of ice into ice chests partially full of beer. I immediately went to help Taylor, earning me a quick kiss on the cheek, and a couple of whistles from dockworkers.

  Danny looked over at us, smiled, and immediately elbowed Kurt. McTavish looked up from a bundle of bottle rockets, frowned, then heaved himself up and ambled over.

  “Right,” he began, “so, Rhiyen, Danny-boy has been tearing strips off me for being an ass the other day. I had the wrong impression of you, and I shouldn’t have acted on it. I apologize.”

  “Thank you,” I said, looking up at him. “I appreciate that.”

  “Good,” he said. “But just so you know, if you break her heart,” he said, nodding at Taylor, “I will end you.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Taylor rolling her eyes. “If I ever screw up that badly, I’ll let you,” I allowed magnanimously.

  Kurt snorted, then laughed. “Better watch this one, Taylor.”

  “I don’t think he’s the one that needs watching,” she said, peering up at her godfather with narrowed eyes.

  That had him laughing even harder as he turned and headed back to Danny and the fireworks.

  “He’s incorrigible,” she sighed as she turned back to me.

  “He’s drunk,” I said.

  “He’s both,” she said, and I had to agree.

  Fortunately, more people arrived with food, which included Kurt’s wife Lacey. She appeared more than capable of handling him, being nearly as big and burly. The food in this case appeared to be enormous roast beef subs from some place called Hap’s that everyone knew. When we finished icing down the beer (and one chest of cokes, thank goodness) Taylor and I split one of the subs. It was pretty good and very filling. I ended up eating my half and the quarter that Taylor couldn’t finish.

  After that, we tried to stay warm in the backyard and watched the dockworkers set up the fireworks they would detonate later. I eventually ended up unzipping my parka and pulling Taylor bodily into it with her back to my front. She made a happy sound and pulled my arms around her, trapping my exposed hands under her arms. This was unexpectedly cozy, and I enjoyed having her in my arms as we laughed at the semi-drunken antics.

  The night progressed, with the fireworks steadily being expended as midnight approached. As the countdown began, I started shifting around a little, hoping to steal a quick kiss when it ended. I shouldn’t have bothered. Taylor turned around in my arms, her hands then snaked up along either side of my neck. I felt her fingers curl in my hair, which sent shivers down my spine, as she drew my head down toward hers. When the countdown reached zero, our lips met in a searing kiss.

  My awareness narrowed, focusing on the amazing girl in my arms. Her lips moved under mine, and I felt a tentative brush of her tongue. I reciprocated as the kiss deepened. I was vaguely aware of Lacey making a wolf-whistle beside us. In the moment, I didn’t care about our audience, I only cared about Taylor. If she wanted to make a statement, I was more than happy to comply.

  When we finally had to stop for air, I rested my forehead against her very warm one. Lacey had evidently drawn more attention to us than I realized. There were cat-calls and offers to loan shotguns to Danny. I ignored them all.

  The party wound down after midnight, as designated drivers began taking their charges home and the clean-up began. Taylor and I pitched in, while Danny organized the drivers.

  “This is the first time we’ve hosted New Years in a while,” Taylor confided as we bagged up expended fireworks. This being the first time since her mother died went unsaid.

  “Looks like everyone had fun,” I said, glancing over at Danny, who was smiling as he helped Lacey cajole Kurt into their truck.

  “I think so,” Taylor agreed. “I know I did,” she added with a grin.

  “That makes two of us,” I agreed with a smile.

  When the last of the partygoers had left, and the rest of the trash was bagged up in the garage, I was prepared to head out when Danny handed me a bundle of bedding. “You’re welcome to the couch again,” he said. “Too many drunk drivers on the streets right now for you to be out there.”

  “Thanks,” I said, accepting the blankets.

  “Thank you,” he corrected. “Taylor and I really appreciate the help.” He paused. “Maybe Taylor a bit more than me,” he said with a tired smile.

  I grimaced in embarrassment. No way had he missed that kiss.

  “Anyway,” he continued, “I forgot how much work hosting one of these was. I guess everything worked out in the end. Go ahead and get some rest.” He paused. “Just make sure you stay downstairs,” he added with a smirk.

  I could feel my face burning. “I’ll make a point of that,” I choked out.

  As I left to bed down for the night, I wondered if I should tell him that the idea hadn’t even occurred to me until he said it himself.

  O*O*O

  I didn’t make it back to the Landry’s until late afternoon on the first. Charles and Dolores were a little miffed that I was out longer than expected, but I immediately got to work catching up on all the chores. Including some that weren’t strictly mine. I didn’t really care; I was in too good a mood. Jared seemed to pick up on this and took a moment to ask me as I was scrubbing the tiles in one of the bathrooms.

  “You seem awfully cheerful for someone who is on doghouse duty,” he said as he got ready to go out.

  “I suppose I am,” I admitted.

  “Spent a lot of time over at the Hebert’s,” he observed as he touched up his hair.

  I paused my scrubbing. “Why don’t you just come out and say what you want to say,” I commanded.

  “Is that long term project of yours working out?” he asked with a grin.

  I sighed, then smiled. “Yes. Yes, it is,” I replied.

  “Good,” he said. “I’m honestly glad for you,” he said turning toward me.

  “Thanks, Jared,” I said, touched.

  Then he smirked. “Especially since I picked winter break in the pool,” he added.

  “Seriously?” I asked, incredulous.

  “Nah, but if there was, I’d have called it,” he said, turning back to the mirror and taking one last swipe at his hair.

  “You know,” I grumbled as I resumed scrubbing. “One of these days you’re going to stop jerking me around, and it will be a sign of the apocalypse.”

  Jared’s laughter trailed behind him as he left the bathroom.

  O*O*O

  The second was the last Sunday before we returned to Winslow on the third of January. I pulled one last shift at the library in the midmorning to afternoon so I could get to sleep early. I wanted to be able to get up early and run with Taylor as usual before school.

  But those plans were interrupted by a hard knock on my bedroom door. Charles Landry opened it before I could say anything, looking angry. “The police are here,” he said coldly, “looking for you. Get dressed, now.”

  I scrambled to comply, grabbing my sneakers because they’d be faster than my new boots to put on.

  When I arrived in the living room, it looked like most of the household was awake for the show. There were two uniformed patrolmen waiting near the front door. They looked me over as I entered. “Rhiyen Conner?” one asked.

  “Yes?” I said.

  “We need you to come down to the precinct,” he said.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “They need to talk to you about some serious allegations,” the other answered.

  “What kind of allegations?” I asked, wondering what the hell was going on.

  “The detectives will let you know the details,” he replied. “As a minor,” he continued, “you are entitled to have your guardians present for the questioning.” With that, he looked over at Mr. and Mrs. Landry

  “We’ll pass,” Charles practically snarled. I don’t think he knew what this was about any better than I did. He was probably just pissed about the disruption to his evening. Dolores looked just as sour. That was fine, they’d be worse than useless.

  The ride in the back of the cruiser wasn’t exactly comfortable, but at least I wasn’t cuffed. Still, I couldn’t stop my mind from racing. I don’t think I’d let anything incriminating slip. There was zero chance that Taylor reported me. But why was I being driven to a police station? I was pretty sure I could break out if I absolutely had to, but then what? If I went on the run, I’d never see Taylor again.

  Just the idea killed that train of thought. I would be patient. I would be judicious with my words. Whatever the charges, they were likely bullshit. But I would not fly off the handle. Calling police idiots wouldn’t get me out of this sooner. My thoughts circled like this as we drove through the darkened streets. Eventually, I was brought to a familiar-looking precinct house. It was the same one we’d gone to about the vandalized flute. I supposed it might be the same jurisdiction.

  I wasn’t quite ‘perp-walked’ inside, but both officers made a point of walking very closely as they escorted me in. I tried not to let any nervousness show as I complied. I had a very bad feeling about this, but no practical way out. Once inside, I was told I was going to be submitted to an external weapons check. That consisted of them patting down the pockets of my jeans and parka. All I carried was a house key and my wallet. That raised a few questions.

  “No phone?” one officer asked.

  I shrugged. “Don’t use one.”

  “I find that hard to believe these days,” the other one commented.

  “I’d only get one to keep in touch with my girlfriend, and her dad hates the things so there’s no point,” I explained. I knew I was volunteering information, which was dumb. But this seemed innocuous, and the uncertainty was making me nervous and chatty. While my new relationship with Taylor was amazing, it also meant that I wasn’t as autonomous as I once believed myself to be. I had a lot more to lose now. I hated it.

  They then escorted me to an interrogation room and left me there.

  For hours, it seemed. Not that I could tell, because it didn’t have a clock. Probably intentionally. I hadn’t replaced my watch yet, but I wondered if they’d have confiscated it if I had. Wasn’t that a known interrogation trick? Or was that just in movies?

  I ended up just putting my head down on the table and trying to sleep. Just as I felt like I was dropping off, the door opened, and I sat up abruptly. I’d been picked up a little before midnight and it had to be after two by now.

  Two men who I presumed were detectives came in. The first was a man with a tanned complexion, dark eyes, and thick black mustache over pearly white teeth. Sure enough, there was a detective badge clipped to his belt.

  The second one I recognized all too well.

  “I’m Detective Ramirez,” the first man said. “This is –“

  “Hello again, Detective Searles,” I cut in. “Any progress on that vandalism case?” Danny hadn’t said it explicitly, but I suspected he was getting a grand runaround asking for updates.

  “I think you’ve got more important things to worry about,” he shot back.

  “Like what?” I asked as Ramirez glanced between us, clearly confused.

  Searles dumped a folder in front of me. Opening it, there were printed excerpts of some pretty vile and sexually explicit threats. “Recognize your handiwork?” he asked as I skimmed over them.

  “No,” I said evenly. “It looks more like the crap that gets sent to my girlfriend on the regular.”

  “So, you were inspired by that?” Searles asked quickly.

  “Not at all,” I said carefully.

  “Detective Searles received a criminal complaint from someone claiming that you sent threatening and harassing emails to his daughter over the winter break,” Ramirez explained evenly.

  I frowned. Who would be making up lies about me, and worse, getting the police to take them seriously? Then I made the connection. “Would this complaint be coming from Alan Barnes?” I asked.

  “You know his daughter?” Ramirez asked.

  “We both go to Winslow,” I said before being cut off.

  “Mr. Barnes explained how you’ve been harassing her all year,” Searles chimed in. “I imagine you thought you were clever going through an internet café to cover your tracks, but she recognized some of the phrases you’ve said to her directly.”

  I scowled at the sheer audacity of her lie. “I’ve never harassed her at all. The worst I’ve done is call her vile to her face.” I turned to Ramirez. “Did your colleague here mention that I was a witness in a criminal complaint filed against Emma Barnes and others for Malicious Destruction of Private Property?”

  “That complaint was closed for lack of evidence,” Searles shot back.

  “You tried to shut us down the second Alan Barnes’ name came up. You knew he was a lawyer too,” I said. Then I took a shot in the dark. “He’s a divorce lawyer. Did he represent you at some point?” I asked.

  Searles slammed his hands down on the table. “You’re looking at a stint in Juvie at the bare minimum,” he growled. But Ramirez was already looking at his partner and frowning. He reached across and collected the folder, then got up as he caught Searles’ attention. Ramirez nodded toward the door and they both left.

  I sat there, cooling my heels and banking my anger and frustration.