Page 38 of Heartstring

Cathy and Emy arrive shortly after and put Kayleigh and me to work peeling potatoes and carrots.

Even Stan behaves by staying on his blanket outside the open kitchen door.

12

MIK

NOW

My eyes are fixedon the door as people enter the soup kitchen building. It’s a cold day, and snow is forecasted this week.

The heater in my car blasts warm air, so I can stay here for as long as I want.

What am I even doing here?

Kay has been talking nonstop about her school project to help the community. That’s why I’m here. Tyler helps the community. Maybe I can help too.

Liar.

Okay, so maybe the reason I’m parked across the church, staring at people like a creep, has less of a charitable motive and more of a personal one.

How can I be blamed? I’m curious. I want to observe Tyler, know more about him. Why is he here? Is this his real job? What happened to his music?

As the thought crosses my mind, I flinch.Ihappened to his music. He gave it all to me like it never mattered to him.

No. He was the one to let it all go. I have to remember that.

But did he quit altogether?

What has he been doing for the last twenty-five years? Is he married?

Fuck, did I make him cheat on his husband by kissing him?

No, he didn’t kiss me back like a man concerned about a husband, and we may not have seen each other since we were twenty, but he wouldn’t cheat on anyone.

Still, do I want to disturb the status quo? I’ve been perfectly fine without him. Is one perfect kiss reason enough to bring chaos into my life?

Stillwater was meant to be a new start for my daughter and me, and here I am obsessing over an ex-boyfriend after talking to him for a grand total of five minutes.

And one perfect kiss.

“Fuck this,” I mutter as I put the car in gear.

A knock on the window makes me jump so hard I stall the car.

“Hey, John. Whatcha doing here staring at the building? Come on in with us.” Geoff rubs his hands, blowing on them to keep warm. His coat is far too light for this weather.

I’ve been caught. There’s no way I can go now. Especially since I walked out last time.

I step out of the car into the freezing cold.

“Hi, Geoff.”

“That’s a nice set of wheels you got there,” he says, pointing at the beaten-up secondhand car I’ve had longer than I care to admit. It’s hanging on by a thread, but it’s semi-reliable and discreet.

“It does the job,” I say.

I follow him across the road. “You left us last time. Sandra gave me so much grief you’d think I stepped on her bunions. She thinks I said something that spooked you.”