She eyes me and my crutches warily. “Maybe I should go alone. Is it in your bedroom or mine?”
“I’m not a cripple. I go up and down these stairs all day long.” I hand her my crutches. “You can carry those.”
She rolls her eyes then follows after me as I make my way up the steps, gripping the handrail so I have to put very little pressure on my right leg.
“That leg is never going to heal if you do this all day.”
“It’s healing up just fine. Cast should be off in eighteen days.”
“Claire!” My mom’s voice is a bit shrill with surprise. “Was that you who rung the doorbell?”
I look over my shoulder at Claire and she looks a bit frightened. “Yes, ma’am.”
My mom shakes her head. “Oh, stop with the ma’am stuff and you should not be ringing the doorbell. This is your house. Come here and meet Melina.”
Melina comes out of the kitchen carrying a large white cake stand. I recognize it as the one my mom used for my birthday cake in May. It was the first cake stand she got before she opened her bakery. There must be some big event going on at the shop for her to allow Melina to use it.
Claire looks at Melina for a moment before she glances back at me. It’s just a split-second look, but I swear there was a trace of jealousy in her eyes.
She leans my crutches against the handrail and descends the stairs. She gives my mom a hug before she turns to Melina and holds out her hand. “I’m Claire.”
Melina takes her hand and my mom beams as if she’s introducing long lost sisters.
“Claire, this is Melina. She was with us for a few months just two years before you showed up.”
Melina and Claire share a quick handshake before Melina casually moves toward the door. “I should get going back to the shop now. Nice to meet you, Claire.”
She glances up at me and I raise my eyebrows, but I don’t say anything. I don’t want to give Claire the idea that I know this girl even though she did stay with us a billion years ago.
“Nice to meet you, too,” Claire says as my mom opens the door for Melina.
My mom closes the door and looks up at me with utter contempt. “Jesus, Christopher. She came to me a few weeks ago because she had aged out and needed a job. She’s going through a really hard time. You could have been just a little more courteous.”
I roll my eyes because I am not going to be courteous to a strange girl who obviously makes Claire uncomfortable.
Claire squints at me for a second before she rushes out the front door. My mom looks confused then quickly follows after her.
Damn this leg! I hop down the steps and grab my crutches from where Claire left them. By the time I make it onto the front doorstep, Claire and my mom are returning up the front walk. They both look serious, then I spot a hint of a smile on Claire.
“What was that?” I ask as she enters the house ahead of me and holds the door open for me.
“I just wanted to give her my number in case she needs someone to talk to.”
My mom enters behind me and I stand inside the foyer watching them. I know my mom. She wants to be angry with Claire because of Abigail, but Claire is not going to allow that.
God, I fucking love her.
“That was very kind of you,” my mom says to Claire. “But we still have some things we need to talk about. You go ahead upstairs and let Chris show you his little surprise then we can talk.”
I make my way upstairs as quickly as I can, before my mom can interrupt again. Claire follows me into my bedroom, though I sense a bit of reluctance as she enters.
“I’m not going to try anything. I know you have a boyfriend.”
She winces at the word boyfriend then shakes her head. “I don’t have a boyfriend. Adam and I broke up.”
I want to tell her how happy this makes me, but her face screws up, as if she’s in physical pain, and I’m suddenly mad as hell. Did this motherfucker break her heart?
“I didn’t know that. I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re not. This is what you wanted.”
“Claire, I want you, but I don’t want to see you in pain.”
She closes her eyes as she heaves a deep sigh. She’s trying to hold it together. “What’s the big surprise?”
I think of the box of photos my mom found in her room the other day while searching for Claire’s diary. I was so pissed when I found out what she had been doing, but I quickly got lost in the pictures. It was the box of photos I hid in her room after I left to L.A. because I knew my mom would leave Claire’s room as is. I didn’t trust her to do the same with my room. I looked through that box of pictures the other day and found moments I’d long since forgotten. I hoped that giving her the pictures might spark some forgotten feelings inside her, but now I can’t bring myself to put her through that. She doesn’t need me pushing myself on her right now. What she needs right now is a friend.