“Sorry, I have to run, but if you need anything—” he handed Lacey a card with his cell phone number “—I’m just a phone call away.”
“Thanks, Jay. We’ll be fine.” She took the card and shoved it into her pocket without looking at him.
“That’s fine, but just in case.” He shifted his attention to her sister. He had a strong feeling that Corry wasn’t really here looking for a place to start over.
As he got into his patrol car and looked back, he saw Lacey standing on the sidewalk looking a little lost. He’d never seen that look on her face before, like she wasn’t sure of her next move.
He brushed off the desire to go back. He knew he couldn’t help her. Lacey was a force unto herself, independent and determined. He was pretty sure she didn’t need him, and more than positive he didn’t want to get involved.
* * *
Lacey watched Jay Blackhorse drive away before turning to face Corry again. The front door of the diner opened and Lacey’s boss, Jolynn, stepped outside.
“Honey, if you need to take off early, go ahead. We can handle it for thirty minutes without you.” Jolynn smiled at Corry.
Lacey wished she could do the same. She wished that seeing her sister here didn’t make her feel as if her life in Gibson was in danger.
“I can stay.” Lacey picked up the backpack that Corry had tossed on the ground.
“No, honey, I insist. Go home.” Jolynn patted her arm. “Take your sister on up to your place and get her settled.”
Lacey closed her eyes and counted to ten. She could do this. “Okay, thank you. I’ll grab my purse. But if you need…”
“We don’t need. You’re here too much as it is. It won’t hurt you to go home a few minutes early.”
Lacey stepped back inside the cool, air-conditioned diner with Jolynn, and pretended people weren’t staring, that they weren’t whispering and looking out the window at her sister.
She pretended it didn’t bother her. But it did. It bothered her to suddenly become the outsider again, after working so hard to gain acceptance. It bothered her that Jay Blackhorse never looked at her as though she belonged.
Jolynn gave her a light hug when she walked her to the door. “You’re a survivor, Lacey, and you’ll make it through this. God didn’t make a mistake, bringing that young woman to you.”
Lacey nodded, but she couldn’t speak. Jolynn smiled and opened the door for her. Lacey walked out into the hot July day. Corry had taken a seat on the bench and she stood up.
“Ready?” Lacey picked up her sister’s bag.
“Where’s your car?”
“I walk to work.”
“We have to walk?”
Lacey took off, letting Corry follow along behind her. Her sister mumbled and the baby whimpered in the infant seat. Lacey glanced back, the backpack and diaper bag slung over her shoulder, at her sister who carried the infant seat with the baby.
As they walked up the long driveway to the carriage-house apartment Lacey had lived in for over six years, Corry mumbled a little louder.
Lacey opened the door to her apartment and motioned her sister inside. The one room with a separate bathroom and a walk-in closet was less than five hundred square feet. Corry looked around, clearly not impressed.
“You’ve been living in a closet.” Corry smirked. “And I thought you were living on Walton’s Mountain.”
Ignore it. Let it go. Push the old Lacey aside. “I think you should feed the baby.”
“Ya think? So now you’re a baby expert.”
The old Lacey really wanted to speak up and say something mean. The new Lacey smiled. “I’m not an expert.”
Corry had done nothing but growl since they’d left the diner. Obviously she needed a fix. And she wasn’t going to get one.
“Is there another room?”
“No, there isn’t. We’ll make do here until I can get something else.” Lacey looked around the studio apartment that had been her home since she’d arrived in Gibson.
The home she would have to give up if Corry stayed in Gibson. Starting over again didn’t feel good. The baby whimpered. A six-week-old child, dependent on the adults in her life to make good choices for her.
Starting over for a baby. Lacey could do that. She would somehow make it work. She would do her best to help Corry, because that meant the baby had a chance.
Corry tossed her backpack into a corner of the room and dumped the baby, crying and working her fist in her mouth, onto the hide-a-bed that Lacey hadn’t put up that morning.
Lacey lifted the baby to her shoulder and rubbed the tiny back until she quieted. Corry had walked to the small kitchen area and was rummaging through the cabinets.
“You know, Corry, since you’re here, wanting a place to live, maybe you should try being nice.”
“I am being nice.” Corry turned from the cabinets and flashed a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “And your boyfriend is cute.”
“He isn’t my boyfriend.” Lacey walked across the room, the baby snuggling against her shoulder. She couldn’t let her sister bait her. She couldn’t let her mind go in that direction, with Jay Blackhorse as the hero that saved the day. “Corry, if you’re going to be here, there are a few rules.”
“Rules? I’m not fourteen anymore.”
“No, you’re not fourteen, but this is my house and my life that you’ve invaded.”
Lacey closed her eyes and tucked the head of the baby against her chin, soft and safe. Be fair, she told herself. “I’m sorry, Corry, I know you need a place for the baby.”
“I need a place for myself, too.”
“I know that, and I’m willing to help. But I have to know that you’re going to stay clean. You can’t play your games in Gibson.”
Corry turned, her elfin chin tilted and her eyes flashing anger. “You think you’re so good, don’t you, Lacey? You came to a small town where you pretend to be someone you’re not, and suddenly you’re too good for your family. You’re afraid that I’m going to embarrass you.”
“I’m not too good for my family. And it isn’t about being embarrassed.” It was about protecting herself, and the people she cared about.
It was about not being hurt or used again. And it was about keeping her life in order. She had left chaos behind when she left St. Louis.
“You haven’t been home in three years.” Corry shot the accusation at her, eyes narrowed.
No, Lacey hadn’t been home. That accusation didn’t hurt as much as the one about her pretending to be someone she wasn’t.
Maybe because she hoped if she pretended long enough, she would actually become the person she’d always believed she could be. She wouldn’t be the girl in the back of a patrol car, lights flashing and life crumbling. She wouldn’t be the young woman at the back of a large church, wondering why she couldn’t be loved without it hurting.
She wouldn’t be invisible.
Lacey shifted the fussing baby to one side and grabbed the backpack and searched for something to feed an infant. She found one bottle and a half-empty can of powdered formula.
“Feed your daughter, Corry.”
“Admit you’re no better than me.” Corry took the bottle and the formula, but she didn’t turn away.
“I’m not better than