Aftermath
unlocked, though, and as much as Darren tried to tell himself he must have just forgotten to lock up the night before, he was pretty sure he hadn’t. Locking the place up was such a habit he couldn’t pull a clear image to mind of actually doing it, but by that same habit, he wouldn’t have not done it. But what if he hadn’t?Fed up with his own uncertainty, Darren parked the bike by the back wall. He got off and dug the chain and lock from his pack—Virginia’s assurances that no one would steal his bike aside. He then looped the chain through the spokes and secured the bike as best he could.
Hefting the pack up from the ground where he’d set it, Darren tried to prepare himself for the day ahead. Dealing with people always set his nerves on edge, but he needed this job, and having a place to stay instead of sleeping on the street was an unexpected bonus. Virginia had let him stay with her for a while, but Darren hadn’t felt comfortable in her home. He was always waiting to screw up, to do something that would get him thrown out and fired. At least at Widow Hawkins’ place, he didn’t feel he had to be perfect.
Darren took the three steps in a quick jaunt, glancing at the cheap watch on his wrist as he did so. Almost eight, he’d barely made it on time. The back door opened just as he reached for it and he snatched his hand away to keep from getting his knuckles rapped.
Virginia stood in the doorway, her plump arms folded over an even plumper chest as she stared at him, her penciled-in eyebrows climbing comically high on her brow. She looked like a deranged clown with those too-dark eyebrows and the thick makeup she had on. Her cheeks were almost glowing, and Darren didn’t think it was from anything natural. Certainly the sparkly blue shadow on her lids wasn’t natural. It wouldn’t be, not on anyone.
“What’d you do to yourself, Darren?”
Darren tried to look away from the electric blue eyeshadow. His gaze bounced to the bright blush then back up before he settled for staring at his hands where they were wrapped around the strap of his backpack.
“I fell. Broke the eggs, too.” He really hoped Virginia wasn’t counting on fresh eggs today. His hands tightened on the strap.
“Forget about the eggs, we have plenty. Get inside and let me see what you’ve done.”
Darren didn’t think she sounded angry, and he didn’t think enough of himself to believe she was concerned for him as a person. As an employee, maybe. Virginia would be short-handed if he wasn’t fit to work. He followed her inside, squeezing past as she held the door open.
“Just go to my office and have a seat. I’ll be right there.”
Inside the office, Darren tried to relax but it just wasn’t possible. Virginia’s scrutiny had been unnerving. On the other hand, at least the creepy feeling of being watched had dissipated, allowing him to think rationally about this morning’s events. He had to have left the back doors unlocked. What would have been the point in someone coming in and doing nothing?
Darren’s stomach cramped, less from hunger than from fear that he might lose his job since he’d broken the eggs and shown up looking like he’d been smacked with a baseball bat. Hunger was something he was used to, although these past few months he hadn’t experienced it nearly as often as he had before Virginia had found him. He didn’t look forward to having to steal what bits of food he could again.
Virginia’s rapid footsteps warned of her approach. Darren quickly sat in the wicker chair in front of her desk, settling his backpack on the floor at his feet. He fingered the knot on the underside of his chin, jerking his hand away when fiery bolts of pain rocketed up to make his head pound.
“Did you take anything for that? Ibuprofen or something like it?”
“No, ma’am.” Darren shifted uncomfortably, the wicker chair making a crackling noise that had him tensing for another fall.
“Sit still and let me get a better look.” Virginia’s hand was gentler than her brisk tone as she tipped his head back. It still hurt but he didn’t so much as flinch. He could handle a bit of pain.
Virginia clucked her tongue, the sound so much like the chickens he’d fed earlier that Darren was hard pressed not to smile. “Got yourself good, boy.” Virginia bent so close her nose nearly touched his chin. Darren found himself fascinated by her glittery eyeshadow and hairy spider leg-looking eyelashes. His own mother had never been one to wear makeup, and she was the only other woman he’d ever been this close to, so he was bizarrely entranced. His fingers itched to touch Virginia’s lashes and see if they were stiff or soft. They looked…crunchy, he decided, like the makeup on them was hardened and near to cracking.
Virginia huffed and straightened, her hand still tipping his chin up. “I bet that hurts something fierce. Take these.” She released him and turned to a tray he hadn’t realized she’d brought in. After opening a small white bottle, Virginia shook out two pills and handed them to him. “Ibuprofen. You’ll need more in about six hours. You have any at home?”
Hearing Mrs. Hawkins’ place called ‘home’ gave Darren an internal jolt. He hadn’t had a home in a long time, and he wasn’t entirely sure he liked the description. He took the pills and popped them in his mouth, ignoring the pain that shot out from his chin. She handed him a glass of milk to wash them down with. Darren was grateful for the cool liquid—he’d forgotten to eat breakfast, more concerned about being late once he’d got the eggs cleaned up.
Virginia was staring at him, one penciled eyebrow arched. Darren remembered she’d asked him a question about the ibuprofen and he shook