“It gets worse.” The speckled sunlight coming through the trees cast her face in light and shadow, making her look both older and younger than she was. “He said he realized he owed me something for ten years of marriage, so I could have whatever was left after the debts I didn’t know anything about were paid off.”
“Nice guy.”
“Not even when I met him. I knew that, but he was gorgeous and smart, and all my sorority sisters were crazy about him. Our families had been friends for years. He was one of GM’s wonder boys before Detroit imploded.” She flicked her ash into the grass. “Scott and his temp headed off to Seattle to find their bliss, and the debts ate up everything we had. I’d only finished a year of college. I had no work experience and no idea how to support myself. For a while, I lived with one of my brothers, but after a few months of barely leaving my room, my sister-in-law let me know I’d worn out my welcome.”
She forgot her discomfort about smoking in front of the first daughter and reached for another cigarette. “Around the same time, Myra’s lawyer contacted me and told me she’d died and left her cottage to me along with her grandson. I’d only seen Toby a few times years ago when Myra came to visit me. Yet here I am. Mistress of my domain.” She looked around at the farm stand and gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Have you ever heard anything more pathetic? I was raised with all the advantages except a backbone.” She pushed the cigarette back in its pack without lighting up. “I can imagine what you’re thinking after everything you’ve accomplished in your life.”
“Running away on my wedding day?”
“Especially that.” She grew almost dreamy-eyed. “How did you have the guts?”
“I wouldn’t exactly call it guts.”
“I would.” Just then a car stopped. Bree tucked the cigarette pack in her pocket. “Thanks for trusting me. I won’t sell you out.”
Lucy hoped she’d keep her word.
ON THE WAY HOME, LUCY realized she’d forgotten her honey, but without the prospect of warm bread to slather it on, she didn’t turn around. A pile of broken-down bunk beds, old mattresses, and the ugly vinyl curtains from the dorm sat at the end of the drive, waiting to be hauled away. The delivery truck was gone, and as she entered the house she heard something heavy being dragged across the floor overhead. Too much to hope it was Panda’s dead body.
She cut through the kitchen to go outside and noticed that the old refrigerator was gone. In its place stood a high-tech stainless steel side-by-side. Her unsatisfactory breakfast had left her hungry, so she opened the doors.
And discovered all her stuff was gone. Her peanut butter and jelly, her deli ham and perfectly aged Swiss cheese. No black cherry yogurt, salad dressing, or sweet pickles. None of the leftovers she’d counted on for lunch. Even Panda’s marmalade had disappeared.
The freezer section was equally awful. Instead of Hot Pockets and the frozen waffles that were her weekend treat, she saw rows of prepackaged diet meals. She pulled open the vegetable bins. Where were her carrots? Her blueberries? The fresh bunch of romaine lettuce she’d bought just yesterday? Frozen waffles were one thing, but they’d taken her lettuce?
She stormed upstairs.
THE RUBBERY SMELL OF A gym hit her even before she paused in the doorway. The dorm had been transformed since last night. Shiny new exercise equipment sat on pristine black rubber mats, the bare floor had been swept clean, and sunlight spilled through the open windows. Panda was wrestling with one of the bent window screens, the twist of his body tugging up his T-shirt and exposing a rock-hard abdomen. What she could see of his shirt was mercifully free of smutty messages, and the fact that she found this vaguely disappointing she blamed on Viper.
Temple grunted away on an elliptical machine, sweat dripping from her temples, wet tendrils of dark hair sticking to her neck. Lucy took in the scene of workout horror. “My food seems to be missing from the refrigerator.”
Temple hunched her shoulder and wiped her forehead on her sleeve. “Panda, take care of this.”
“Happy to.” He secured the screen and followed Lucy out of the room so quickly she knew he’d been looking for an excuse to escape. Before she could open her mouth to launch what she intended to be an un-Lucy-like tirade, he grabbed her elbow and steered her along the hall. “We have to talk downstairs. Loud voices upset Temple. Unless they’re coming from her.”
“I heard that,” Temple shouted from inside.
“I know,” Panda shouted in return.
Lucy headed for the stairs.
IT WAS PROBABLY PANDA’S IMAGINATION, but he could swear he saw dust bombs exploding from beneath the soles of Lucy’s ridiculous combat boots as she stomped down the worn beige stairway carpet. A carpet he suspected she wanted him to get rid of. Which he damned well wasn’t going to do.
