Page 4 of The Neighborly Thing To Do
I’m definitely not the only creature with wings in town, but my family are the only ones with a wingspan that can temporarily blot out the sun. I’mbig, and my wings are big to match. It means that, even in a town like Hearthstone supposedly meant to accommodate creatures like me, I still have to pull my wings in tight and duck my head to get inside the market. At least it’s not too busy; it’s always worse when I have to dodge aroundpeople, although to be fair, only half of that is because of my size. A lot of it is because I don’t want to talk to them.
Cassidy is on the register, biting her lip, her mind clearly a million miles away as she bags up Mrs. Duschane’s groceries.
What happened this morning? Or is she like this because Georgia left yesterday? I’ve definitely never raised a kid, but I can imagine having them there all the time and then them leaving would take a toll on you, no matter how proud you are of them.
I fill the basket that’s awkwardly small in my arms with a loaf of bread and packages of pre-sliced deli meats. I didn’t make a list before I left, and I should take a minute to look around so I don’t have to come back tomorrow, but something inside me is compelling me toward the register.
“Afternoon,” Cassidy mumbles absently, taking my bread and running it over the scanner.
“Afternoon,” I grunt. Small talk really,reallyisn’t my thing. Usually I’d let the conversation die here, content to get back to what I need to do, but today isn’t the day for that. “You alright?”
It’s notthatweird to ask, I reason. Cassidy and I do talk sometimes; we live right next door, after all.
Her head snaps up to meet my eyes. She has to crane her neck and I fight the urge to crouch down. “Alright,” she agrees, voice sounding far away. “You know, I brought G to school yesterday, and—”
“Cassidy,” I interrupt as gently as I can. It still doesn’t work, because she jumps. “I saw your visitors this morning. It looked tense.”
“Oh. That.” It’s like she deflates, a sharp contrast to the woman who slammed a door in their faces this morning. “Turns out, town by-laws say I can’t live here anymore, now that G’s gone. So. I guess I might have to move.”
Davies is kicking her out? Literally making her leave town now that she’s no longer raising Georgia? What, we’ll take her hard work, take her twenties from her, watch her raise Georgia, and kick her out as soon as we don’t see her as useful anymore?
Cassidy isn’t onlyusefulbecause she can take care of Georgia. She’s a member of our community. She’s been my literal neighbor for a decade now, but she’s been all of our neighbors. She’s a part of this town, and them kicking her to the curb is the biggest insult I can think of. That’s not what Hearthstone is supposed to be.
Humans think we’re monsters. Well, they think we’re fiction, but in that fiction, we’re the monsters. Places like Hearthstone show different—or so I thought. But this is one of the more monstrous things I’ve ever seen.
She shrugs like it doesn’t matter, but I can see the pain etched into her face. “Hey, any chance you have any boxes?” she asks. “I’m going to grab some from here from the deliveries, but if they kick me out in a hurry, I’ll need more.”
Fuck that. No way is she giving in that easily. No way are we letting them get away with it. “Cassidy, that’s not—”
“Eh-hem.” I whirl around to give the person behind me a piece of my mind, but it’s Mrs. Parsons, who is about ninety now. She taught at the school most of her life. She’d been my math teacher my entire school career, and every bit of geometry I use every day is thanks to her.
She’s also a stickler for manners, and I’m sure she thinks hogging the only open checkout over my three items is rude.
I freeze, because it feels wrong to leave, but I don’t know what else to say. She doesn’t need to hear that Davies is an asshole—she needs an answer, and I don’t have one.
“Anyway,” she says meekly. “Keep an eye out for boxes for me, alright?”
Boxes? She actually thinks I’m throwing her out of this town like the rest of them?
Fuck no. None of that feels remotely right, and I do know that we owe her better. I don’t have a solution yet, but I’m damnsure going to find one. I take my single bag of groceries and stomp out of the store.
Chapter 3
Cassidy
“Oh, sweetie, I just heard.”
I fight to keep my face neutral as I scan through Caroline Summers’ groceries. Everyone in town seems to havejust heard.Even Finn Delaney heard, and that man is downright anti-social most of the time. He lives above a workshop surrounded bytombstones, a pretty clear signal for “don’t talk to me,” but he already knew my gossip before showing up today.
“Yes,” I say, which isn’t an answer and I’m hoping it will be a discouragement to continue this line of conversation.
No such luck, unfortunately. “So I spoke with Grady after I heard, and we agree, we think we can do something for you—”
“Oh?” I don’t get my hopes up. Nothing comes for free, and Caroline hasn’t ever looked out for me before, but she is an attorney, so maybe she knows something I don’t.
“We’ve been talking about hiring a nanny for the boys. It’d be a live-in position, so you’d stay in town. We’d provide room and board, and you’d just have to work the nights with them, while Grady is at work and I’m asleep. We all know how good with children you are.”
I purse my lips. I am good with precisely one child, and that’s because I had to be. I’d never even babysat before Dad died and Georgia was left to me, and Caroline’s two kids are younger than Georgia was when I met her.
