me." Pete sent her a grin, showing the wide gap between his two front teeth.
She chuckled again. "Why didn't I think of that?"
"Nobody does. That's why it'd work."
Joanie came in, stuck a check in the pocket of Pete's apron, handed another to Reece. "Payday."
"Thanks." And Reece made a decision on the spot. "I wonder it when you have a chance you could show me the apartment upstairs. If it's still available."
"Haven't seen anybody move in, have you? In my office."
"I need to—"
"Do what you're told." Joanie finished and headed out.
Left without a choice, Recce followed. Inside, Joanie opened a shallow wall cabinet emblazoned with a cowboy riding a bucking horse. There was an army of labeled keys on hooks. She took one out, passed it to Recce. "'Go on up, take a look."
"It's not time for my break."
Joanie cocked a hip, fisted a hand on it. "Girl, it's time it I say it's time. Go on. Stairs out the back."
"All right. I'll be back in ten."
It was cold enough even with the snow rapidly going to slush that she needed her coat. She was grateful for it once she'd climbed the rickety open stairs and unlocked the door, Joanie was obviously frugal enough to keep the heat off upstairs.
She saw it was essentially one room with an alcove where an iron daybed was nestled, and a short counter on the street side that separated a little kitchen. The floors were random-length oak that showed some scars, while the walls were an industrial pasty-flesh beige.
There was a bath that was actually slightly larger than the one in her hotel room with a white pedestal sink and an old cast-iron claw-toot tub. Rust stains bloomed around their drams. The mirror over the sink was spotted, the tiles a stark white with black borders.
The main room held a sagging plaid sofa, a single faded blue armchair and a couple tables holding lamps that had obviously been tlea market bargains.
She was smiling even before she turned to walk to the windows. A trio of them faced the mountains, and seemed to open up the world. She could see the sky where the blue streaks were fighting to overtake the dull white, and the lake where that blue was shimmering against the gray.
The snow people were melting into deformed hobbits that spread low over the winter-brown grasses. The willows were shabby bent sticks, and the cottonwoods shivered. Shadows shifted over the snow-laced peaks as the clouds gathered and parted, and she thought she saw a faint glimmer that might have been an alpine lake.
The town with its slushy streets, its cheerful white gazebo, its rustic cabins spread out below her. Standing where she was she felt a part of it, yet still safe and separate.
"I could be happy here," she murmured. "I could be okay here."
She'd have to buy some things. Towels, sheets, kitchen supplies, cleaning supplies. She thought of the paycheck in her pocket, the tip money squirreled away. She could manage the essentials. And it could be fun. The first time she'd bought her own things in nearly a year.
Big step, she thought, then immediately began to second-guess herself. Was it too big a step, too soon? Renting an apartment, buying sheets. What if she had to leave? What if she got fired? What if—
"God, I annoy myself," she muttered. "What-ifs are for tomorrow. The moment's what matters. And at this moment, I want to live here."
As she thought it, clouds parted and a beam of fragile sunlight arrowed through them.
That, she decided, was enough of a sign. She'd make a try here, for as long as it lasted.
She heard footsteps on the stairs outside, and the bubble of fear opened in her chest. Groping in her pocket, she closed her hand around her panic button, gripped one of the tacky table lamps with the other.
When Joanie opened the door, Reece set the lamp down as if she'd been examining it.
"Ugly, but it gives decent light," Joanie said, and left it at that.
"Sorry, I took longer than I meant to. I'll go right down."
"No rush. We're slow, and Beck's on the grill.
She chuckled again. "Why didn't I think of that?"
"Nobody does. That's why it'd work."
Joanie came in, stuck a check in the pocket of Pete's apron, handed another to Reece. "Payday."
"Thanks." And Reece made a decision on the spot. "I wonder it when you have a chance you could show me the apartment upstairs. If it's still available."
"Haven't seen anybody move in, have you? In my office."
"I need to—"
"Do what you're told." Joanie finished and headed out.
Left without a choice, Recce followed. Inside, Joanie opened a shallow wall cabinet emblazoned with a cowboy riding a bucking horse. There was an army of labeled keys on hooks. She took one out, passed it to Recce. "'Go on up, take a look."
"It's not time for my break."
Joanie cocked a hip, fisted a hand on it. "Girl, it's time it I say it's time. Go on. Stairs out the back."
"All right. I'll be back in ten."
It was cold enough even with the snow rapidly going to slush that she needed her coat. She was grateful for it once she'd climbed the rickety open stairs and unlocked the door, Joanie was obviously frugal enough to keep the heat off upstairs.
She saw it was essentially one room with an alcove where an iron daybed was nestled, and a short counter on the street side that separated a little kitchen. The floors were random-length oak that showed some scars, while the walls were an industrial pasty-flesh beige.
There was a bath that was actually slightly larger than the one in her hotel room with a white pedestal sink and an old cast-iron claw-toot tub. Rust stains bloomed around their drams. The mirror over the sink was spotted, the tiles a stark white with black borders.
The main room held a sagging plaid sofa, a single faded blue armchair and a couple tables holding lamps that had obviously been tlea market bargains.
She was smiling even before she turned to walk to the windows. A trio of them faced the mountains, and seemed to open up the world. She could see the sky where the blue streaks were fighting to overtake the dull white, and the lake where that blue was shimmering against the gray.
The snow people were melting into deformed hobbits that spread low over the winter-brown grasses. The willows were shabby bent sticks, and the cottonwoods shivered. Shadows shifted over the snow-laced peaks as the clouds gathered and parted, and she thought she saw a faint glimmer that might have been an alpine lake.
The town with its slushy streets, its cheerful white gazebo, its rustic cabins spread out below her. Standing where she was she felt a part of it, yet still safe and separate.
"I could be happy here," she murmured. "I could be okay here."
She'd have to buy some things. Towels, sheets, kitchen supplies, cleaning supplies. She thought of the paycheck in her pocket, the tip money squirreled away. She could manage the essentials. And it could be fun. The first time she'd bought her own things in nearly a year.
Big step, she thought, then immediately began to second-guess herself. Was it too big a step, too soon? Renting an apartment, buying sheets. What if she had to leave? What if she got fired? What if—
"God, I annoy myself," she muttered. "What-ifs are for tomorrow. The moment's what matters. And at this moment, I want to live here."
As she thought it, clouds parted and a beam of fragile sunlight arrowed through them.
That, she decided, was enough of a sign. She'd make a try here, for as long as it lasted.
She heard footsteps on the stairs outside, and the bubble of fear opened in her chest. Groping in her pocket, she closed her hand around her panic button, gripped one of the tacky table lamps with the other.
When Joanie opened the door, Reece set the lamp down as if she'd been examining it.
"Ugly, but it gives decent light," Joanie said, and left it at that.
"Sorry, I took longer than I meant to. I'll go right down."
"No rush. We're slow, and Beck's on the grill.
Similar Books
