Page 15 of Shelter
This made my job a whole lot easier. “Yes, ma’am,” I said, trying not to smile.
Mama shut off the faucet, her bucket full. “And then get to bed. It’s late,” she told me, lifting the bucket from the sink and setting it on the floor. “We’ll talk about consequences for being late tomorrow.”
I didn’t have to try not to smile anymore. Instead, I nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Goodnight, Mama.”
She picked up the mop and set it in her soapy water. “Goodnight, baby.”
Finally, I was able to slip out of the kitchen, and I found Cole right where I’d left him. The look on his face told me he’d listened to every word Mama and I had shared. I guessed it was only fair after what I’d heard. Besides, at least he knew I hadn’t broken my word.
I said nothing but motioned for him to follow me to the living room. There, I stopped by one of the wingback chairs on the area rug. I opened the bottle of vinegar and let a tiny dribble pour onto the rug.
“What are you doing?” Cole hissed.
With the corner of my cloth, I dabbed up the spill, matting down the fibers. “I’m covering my tracks,” I explained before standing and looking at my handiwork. If I knew Mama, she wouldn’t leave for the night until she was sure mywine spillhad been properly cleaned. When she came to investigate, she’d easily find the spot I’dcleaned. I felt a little bad about fooling her, but I figured if she really knew what I was up to, she’d understand.
I hoped.
I got to my feet and grabbed Cole’s wrist. “C’mon,” I whispered. I led him back to the foyer. The floors there were gleaming oak planks, and I easily found two sinister drops of blood in the center of the room. I squatted down and wiped up the droplets with a dry corner of my cloth. And then, without a word, I tugged Cole out the side door and around the back of the house.
“Where are we going?” Cole asked, as we skirted the banana plants that edged the Whitehursts’ back patio. I stopped us before we reached the back porch, knowing that if Mama were facing the back yard, she’d see us.
“To the guesthouse so I can get you cleaned up.” Then I pressed a hand on his shoulder to still him. “Stay here until I make sure the coast is clear.”
Cole only nodded, but I noticed he watched me with a look I’d never seen before. I tiptoed into the beam of light off the back porch from the kitchen and saw Mama still mopping, and, as luck would have it, her back was to us.
I faced Cole and beckoned. “C’mon. Hurry,” I hissed, and then we sprinted across the space to the path that led to the guesthouse. I opened the door, dragged him inside, and shut it behind me. I wasted no time ushering him to my room. And then I closed my door. I didn’t lock it. Mama might come in and want to tell me goodnight, but if she stuck her head in and saw the light on under the bathroom door, she’d just call a greeting and head to bed.
“This is your room?” Cole asked, surveying the space, a small crease forming between his brows. I watched his eyes take in all the drawings I’d tacked up around my bed. Some I’d moved from our old house, but the two I’d liked best I’d done since we’d lived here.
That was because Mama had been able to buy me a set of gel pens and a sketchpad with the heavy sheets like they had at school.
“Yeah, it’s my room,” I answered, finally able to give him theyou’re-weirdlook. “Whose else would it be?”
He shot me a half-glare before turning his eyes back to my pictures. When I’d hatched my plan to bring him in here to get him cleaned up, I hadn’t really thought about him seeing my stuff. My drawings usually made me proud, but I didn’t want Cole to spoil any of them for me by saying something ugly.
“Let’s go. We need to hurry,” I said.
But Cole didn’t budge. The crease between his brow deepened. “Why so many crowns?”
Out of the seven drawings on the wall above my bed, four of them were tiaras. I liked drawing tiaras because I could focus on drawing just one thing but make it as detailed as I wanted. The more detailed the better. Scrolls… flourishes… shading. And that was just in the metal part. I loved drawing the gemstones, too. And really, you have to start with those. Or at least I thought so. I had to see the gems in my mind first before I could build the metalwork around them. I could spend hours just on the design with my pencil before I even used any color.
But I wasn’t about to tell Cole Whitehurst any of that.
“My mama’s going to be here any second,” I said, ignoring his question. “Do you want my help or not?”
Cole pulled his gaze away from my drawings and looked down at this stained shirt. Then he met my eyes, his mouth a flat line. “I want your help.”
I could tell by the way he said it that he didn’t like accepting anything from me. Not one bit. But I discovered that being in a position to help him made me feel different. Less small.
“Let’s go into the bathroom.”
I carried my cleaning supplies in, set them on the counter, and closed and locked the door behind him.
“What happens if Flora comes back?” he asked, eyeing me with caution.
“Shewillcome back,” I said with certainty. “That’s why we’re in here, so when we hear her, you need to be quiet.”
I wet one corner of the cloth under the tap of my bathroom sink and rubbed it over the bigger of his two blood stains. I knew enough to know that it would be better to rinse his shirt in cold water first, but I wasn’t about to ask Cole Whitehurst to take off his shirt in my bathroom. Neither one of us needed that embarrassment. So, I’d just have to do my best with what I had.
