Page 28

“I ain’t buying anything.”

Nell had thought that since Barrett’s van wasn’t in front of the house, like usual, no one was home.

Instead of knocking, or wandering around until he arrived for their scheduled guitar lessons, she’d thought it would be nice to take a seat on the wooden steps after her bike ride and catch her breath.

As fast as she’d sat down, the front door had opened and nearly startled her off the top step.

Now, she stared at a man with deep, annoyed wrinkles glaring down at her through the screen door. He was half bald, with hair clinging to the edges of his scalp. Under gray, scruffy facial hair was a deep scowl.

She knew, immediately, that this was Ron.

Barrett talked so much about him, spoke so highly of him, that she felt she practically knew him.

Yet this was her first time meeting him, and the image she’d created based on Barrett’s descriptions didn’t quite match the man.

For one, she hadn’t expected him to be glaring at her the first time they met.

Nell stumbled to her feet and brushed her hands on her pants. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize anyone was home.”

His eyes narrowed. “You loiter on people’s property for fun?”

“No, no. I’m not loitering.” She wrung her hands in front of her, hating their clamminess. “Ron?”

That glare gave way to a hint of surprise, and his expression softened enough for her to catch it, not for long because he hid it away again. “Yes?”

“Hi, I’m Janelle Duncan,” she said, hoping her smile would ease him the way it had people in the past.

It did not.

Clearly, Barrett had never mentioned her.

He remained guarded behind his screen door. “I know who you are.” He nodded slowly. “What do you want?”

Nell shifted on her feet. “I’m waiting for Scott.”

“ Scott ?” He’d hidden his surprise when she knew his name well enough but failed spectacularly when she said Scott’s. “Why do you need him?”

“We’re . . .” Friends? Acquaintances? Old schoolmates? Complicated? “He’s my guitar teacher.”

Ron’s gaze wasn’t annoyed anymore. He’d traded in the set-brow glare for a raised-brow glare instead, curious and suspicious at once—a more pleasant one to add to the others she’d gotten from the people who drove by her on her way there.

He wasn’t quite adding up to the gentle, caring, ever-loving uncle Barrett had painted for her, but who was she to judge based on first impressions?

“I can wait out here until he arrives,” she offered.

Ron shook his hand and, in an unlikely turn of events, pushed open the screen door. “Come in.”

Nell hesitated a second, then did as he said and followed him inside.

It was a wonder she had thought that no one was home. A jingle blared on the TV. A fan blew through the living room to cool it down in the summer heat.

She’d been able to hear Barrett’s music whenever she pulled up in the past, through the thin walls, yet somehow she’d missed all this noise.

Ron left her by the door and walked into the adjoining kitchen, where he started opening cabinets.

Normally, Nell would make herself at home on the cushioned chair with Sandra on her knee, and Barrett would start explaining whatever he was teaching.

Without Barrett there, replaced by his rather aloof uncle, she’d lost that boyish comfort Barrett always provided her.

So she stuck by the door, her hand fiddling with the edges of KC’s song in her pocket to help with the awkwardness.

A minute later, Ron was back in the room with two mugs in his hand—one steaming, one not. He gestured with one of them at the living room and led the way in, with Nell behind him. Nell settled onto the soft sofa as Ron presented the non-steaming mug to her.

She muttered a soft thanks and took it into her hands. It was cold to the touch, and a quick look inside told her she was holding water. She managed to get a whiff of the coffee in Ron’s cup as he sat down on the chair.

Nell took a small sip, watching the team on the television gain control of the ball again and drive it into the end zone.

“So, how do you know Scott?” Ron didn’t seem interested in his football anymore.

Nell cleared her throat. “We went to school together.”

“That’s how you met?”

“Sort of. I hadn’t seen him for a few years, but we met again not too long ago, at his work.”

“Did you go there for lessons?”

“I went there for . . .” She paused. Probably best not to get into the details of why she’d gone there, why Barrett noticed her, and why she’d had a reason to go back looking for him.

She had no idea if Ron knew about Barrett’s profession outside of music.

She didn’t want to rat him out if not. “I was looking at music.”

Ron nodded again and hummed into his coffee.

An uncomfortable silence fell between them. Ron didn’t come across as aggressive or standoffish anymore; rather, there was a sense that he was trying to gauge why Nell, who on the surface was nothing like his nephew, had come around looking for the boy.

The pastor’s daughter looking for his drug-dealing nephew. She didn’t blame him for being cautious.

“Scott told me a lot about you,” she tried to lighten the mood.

Ron’s mug stopped on the edge of his mouth. He met her eyes over the brim, studying her. “He talks to you about me?”

“Briefly, really.” She was glad she had the glass to hold onto to keep her hands from fidgeting. “Good things only.”

“And you just learn guitar from him?”

She paused, biting her lip. “We’re also friends.”

“Just friends?”

Nell felt her ears sting and cleared her throat, smiling to cover up his insinuation. “Yeah, just friends.”

Nell was pardoned from any further conversation when the front door mercifully opened. The walls really must be thicker than she realized because she never heard the van pull up.

Barrett’s surprised face looking between them was a relief.

“Ron.” Barrett’s eyes briefly flickered to Nell, then back to his uncle. “I thought you were working tonight.”

“I decided to take that break you’ve been on my ass about.” Ron stood up with his mug. “I think I’ll head down to The Pour House for a drink.”

He walked toward the kitchen. Before he made it, he stopped briefly in front of Barrett.

Nell watched their quiet interaction with intense curiosity as it seemed they were having some private conversation with just their eyes.

She couldn’t see Ron’s face, but she could see Barrett’s expression—urgent wide eyes, and a jerk of his chin to tell Ron to move on.

It all felt very private, like they were sharing a secret, but it was over as quickly as it started, and Ron remained in the house long enough to set down his coffee mug on the kitchen counter, pull on his shoes, and give Barrett one final, indiscernible look before heading out the door.

Aside from the football game, the house went back to quiet ,and Barrett caught her eyes.

She slumped in relief. “I don’t think he likes me much,” Nell said.

Barrett laughed—a forced sound—and threw his keys on the counter. “He’s probably just wondering why the hell someone like you is hanging out with someone like me.”

Her face stung, and she averted her eyes to the football game that was still playing. When he said things like that to her, it was just a reminder of his confession the other night.

She’d spent an embarrassingly long time staring at her ceiling and thinking about his crush from back when she was shining, when it was easier to smile. He never really worried about people not liking her.

A boy having a crush on her was nothing new in high school, even for boys like Barrett who had never been in her realm of possibilities. But now, when she was dark and gloomy and a general shadow of what she used to be, it had to be a staggering—and less appealing—contrast in comparison.

He, on the other hand, probably hadn’t changed much. She was simply finally noticing and wishing she had seen before how surprisingly handsome and sweet he was.

Admittedly, they never stood a chance then. What little she did know of him was shrouded in deep-rooted religious warnings from her father.

Satanic. Dangerous.

On further inspection—and crushing—she hadn’t seen one sign of satanic worship or rituals. If Barrett or his friends were a murderous cult, they’d had plenty of chances to use it against her.

He was just a normal guy who loved his music and needed to get by.

And Nell was totally staring at him like a creep as he said something and walked into his bedroom to grab his guitar. She felt another flush creep up her neck and was glad he wasn’t around to see it.

It was her first crush since KC and, from where she stood, almost as helpless.

It was ironic to have her current crush teaching her guitar so she could play her first love’s song, while neither of them knew how she felt.

She sighed and rubbed her hands over her face as Barrett came in with Sandra. Nell felt KC’s song heavy in her pocket. She picked up her water and chugged down the last of it to soothe her dry throat.

She could use a good blunt.

Or a drink.

Or both.