Pretend You're Mine(122)

Thought you might be missing them as much as they miss you. You can drop them off at the house or text me when you leave and I’ll come pick them up.

Luke

P.S. Are you up for shared custody? Let’s talk.

Harper spotted two new dog beds under her desk. There was a basket of toys that had already been tipped over and dug through.

She handed the note to Lola who promptly carried it to her bed and shredded it. Shared custody? She hadn’t thought that far ahead. She had just assumed that when she left, the dogs would come with her.

Would they be like those long distance co-parents who met in a fast food parking lot to switch the kids from one car to another, barely a civil word spoken? Ugh. No. She couldn’t do that. There had to be a better way.

She shot off a quick text to Luke. Thanks for leaving the dogs. I’ll be done here at midnight.

He responded immediately. They miss you. I’ll pick them up after you leave.

Thank you. She shoved her phone in the desk drawer and went back to work.

It was their new normal.

***

Harper pushed her cart into the vestibule of the grocery store, enjoying the puff of heat from above. The snow had brought with it an early winter and she couldn’t seem to get warm enough. But that was most likely due to the giant block of ice that had once been her heart and the fact that her winter coat was still at Luke’s.

She was clawing her way through the pain, but what lay beyond that didn’t seem worth the fight yet. Maybe someday she wouldn’t feel like her smile was painted on. Maybe someday she would remember what it was like to laugh. Maybe someday the hole wouldn’t be so big.

For now, she had shopping to do. She had volunteered to pick up Joni’s groceries and even made a show of adding a few things to the list for herself. Fake it ’til you make it was her motto. Well, fake it until you can pass out exhausted in bed. She’d worry about making it later.

Harper navigated through the produce section, half-heartedly perusing the bananas and turnips. She was approaching the scale when Georgia Rae intercepted her.

“Well, hello there, sweetie! It’s good to see you out and about since ... well, you know.”

She did know. Thank you very much, Georgia Rae. “Thanks, Georgia Rae. How are you doing? Ready for Christmas?”

Harper felt like a robot mechanically spitting out pleasantries. She walked alongside Georgia Rae as the woman chattered on, nodding and making um hmm noises. They rounded the aisle to find Linc in conversation with Sheila from Remo’s and Luke’s neighbor, Mr. Scott, by the beverage cooler.

They all called out a greeting. This was why grocery shopping took forever in Benevolence. You knew literally every single person in the store and were obligated to talk to each of them.

Why hadn’t she gone shopping out of town?

Linc winked at her. “Hey there, Sunshine. How’s it going?”

“It’s going,” Harper said, trying for positive and landing somewhere around morose.

She was saved from further interaction by Peggy Ann. The curvy cashier hustled down the aisle, frantically waving her hands. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” she said in the loudest whisper possible, “But Harper, you’re going to want to avoid who just came in.”

Harper felt her stomach flip-flop.

Georgia Rae peeked around the corner into produce and gasped. “He’s here!”

Panic careened through her system. Not here. Not him. She couldn’t see him.

While Harper froze to the spot, Georgia Rae took control of the situation. “Mr. Scotts, you and I will run interference. Linc, you take Harper here and stash her somewhere until it’s safe. Sheila, you run distraction if he gets too close. Everybody move!” She clapped her hands and they dispersed.

Harper watched as Peggy Ann hurried back toward her register and Mr. Scotts steered his cart of frozen shrimp and canned dog food toward produce with Georgia Rae.

She remained rooted through the blur of activity until Linc took her by the arm and dragged her into the beverage cooler.

“Wait! My cart,” she hissed.

“Leave it,” he said, shutting the door behind him.

Harper put her hands over her face and bent at the waist trying to catch her breath.

“Are you okay?” Linc asked, laying a broad hand on her back.

“If you offer me mouth to mouth right now, I’ll kill you.”

His laugh had her straightening.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t mean to laugh, but I believe you. You look like you’ve been put through the ringer and are ready to come out swinging.”

“That’s actually kind of nice,” Harper said with suspicion.

“I’m a nice guy,” Linc insisted.