Karen Rose - Silent Scream

David opened the refrigerator and sighed. It was broken. “Your groceries will spoil.”

Lacey ducked her head. “Can you fix it?”

“No. This fridge has been ready for the junkyard. I’ve got a new one ready to put in, but I wanted to do the tile on the floor first. I can get the new fridge here by tomorrow, but we’re going to need to move your stuff upstairs until then. Where is Mrs. Edwards?”

“Elly had a doctor’s appointment and Tiffany doesn’t have her license yet, so Mrs. E had to drive them.” Lacey sighed dramatically. “Tiffany failed the drivers’ test again.”

David winced. “Again? What’s wrong with Elly?”

“Nothing, just a well-baby exam. And shots.”

“Good.” He put out his hands and without hesitation, she placed her baby in them. Lacey’s little boy was precious. “Did you get the job at Martino’s?”

Lacey smiled. “Yeah. I have to work nights, but the tips are good and I can still do my GED classes during the day. Thanks for the good word you put in for me. It helped.”

As if picking up on his mother’s sudden mood change, the baby giggled, making David grin. The kid had an infectious laugh, making him miss his own nieces and nephews. He kissed the baby’s chubby cheek and handed him back to Lacey.

“Anytime.” Martino’s was an Italian place run by the family of one of the firefighters on B shift at the firehouse. “They’ll treat you right there. I’ll get your perishables up to my fridge. Mrs. Edwards has a key if I have to leave.” If Olivia calls, I am out of here.

A few minutes later he was standing at his front door, juggling grocery bags while trying to get his key in his lock. He leaned against his door, stumbling when it opened, revealing a woman sitting at his dining room table, a coffee cup in one hand. For a moment he stared, then he felt the smile crack his face.

“Ma?”

She set the cup down with a clatter and was across the room, opening her arms. “I missed you,” she whispered, hugging him fiercely.

“I missed you, too,” he said and she backed away, dabbing at her eyes.

“Let me look at you,” she said, so he dropped the grocery bags on the table and obligingly held out his arms. She looked him up and down and nodded, satisfied.

“What are you doing here, Ma?” he asked. “I’m glad to see you, but I wasn’t expecting you for two weeks. I’m not ready for decorating yet. I was going to call you when I got all the floors done.”

His mother had an eye for color and she’d been itching to help with his building rehab. He’d promised she could pick out carpet and drapes and furniture and all the knickknacks that made the house he’d grown up in a real home.

“Grace started preschool,” she said. “My last grandbaby is in school and I didn’t have anything to do with my mornings. So I came to see you.”

“You should have called. I’d have left you a key or met you at the airport.”

She frowned mildly. “I drove myself from Chicago. I’m not as old as you think.”

“That she is not,” a voice boomed from the kitchen and David turned, surprised. He’d heard the voice of his first-floor tenant but saw no body to go with it.

“Glenn? What the hell are you doing in my apartment?”

“David,” his mother admonished. “Mr. Redman had a key. He let me in.”

“I’m not mad he’s here. I’m mad he’s down there.” David went around the counter and looked down to where Glenn Redman sat on the floor, meticulously lining up tiles, the light from the bare bulb reflecting off his shiny bald head. “Are you all right?”

Redman gave him a sour glare. “I’m fine. I know what I can do.”

“Famous last words,” David said, just as sourly. Then he looked at the tile the old man had arranged in a precise geometric design. “Not bad.”

“It’s damn good, boy,” Redman huffed. “Better than you were doing. Admit it.”

“Okay. I admit it. Thank you.”

“Was that so hard?” Redman held out a hand and David pulled him to his feet, holding on until the older man was steady. He was on the tail end of what had been a long series of chemo, and his prognosis was good, but he still didn’t have the energy he’d had when David first met him at the firehouse, seven months ago. That was just weeks before the doctors discovered Glenn’s tumor and just a month before he became David’s first paying tenant. Of course, payment was a relative thing.

David’s apartment house was ideally located near the hospital, while Redman’s retirement cabin was too far for him to easily get to his chemo treatments. So they’d made a trade. While Redman lived here, David got use of the cabin and its lake full of walleye. Both were happy with the arrangement.

“Nope, wasn’t hard to admit at all. I hate tile work,” David said then looked at his mom. “Don’t believe anything he says, Ma. He’s a consummate liar.”

She was looking through his grocery bags. “Why do you have filled baby bottles?”

Redman held out his hand, looking satisfied. “Ten.”

Narrowing his eyes, David pulled out his wallet and smacked a ten-dollar bill into the old man’s hand. “Don’t gloat. Glenn bet me that the refrigerator in 2A wouldn’t last another week. I hoped it would last until I got the floor done.”

She pushed him gently out of the way and began putting the girls’ groceries in his fridge. “There are babies in 2A, I take it.”

“Damn revolving door,” Glenn grumbled. “Mrs. Edwards takes in unwed mothers.”

“He plays with the babies when he thinks nobody’s looking,” David said.

“You’ve got yourself quite a full house,” his mother said. “All those names on the mailboxes downstairs surprised me. I didn’t think I’d find anyone living here yet.”

David shrugged. “It wasn’t my plan either. But people needed a place. I have room. It didn’t seem right to say no.”

“Boy’s a damn pushover,” Glenn grumbled.

His mother smiled. “Where can I sleep, son? You don’t have much furniture.”

Just a bed. Because he’d really, really hoped Olivia would call. “I was waiting to let you pick everything out. You can have my bed. I’ve got an air mattress and-”

“David? David, are you here?” It was a new voice at his open front door, one that sounded abnormally upset. Moments later a tall, raven-haired beauty stood in his kitchen doorway, eyes narrowed. “I need to talk to you. Now. Please.”

His mother looked at Glenn, who shrugged. “Never seen this one,” Glenn said.

“Mom, this is Paige Holden. Paige, this is my mother and Glenn. Paige is from the dojo and is normally very polite.” David frowned at her. “Why aren’t you being polite?”

Paige drew a deep breath. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both. I’m sorry I barged in. I didn’t know David had company.”

His mother looked fascinated. “I’m always glad to meet my son’s friends.”

“And that’s all she is, Mom,” David inserted before his mother could get the wrong idea. “Paige and I are friends and sparring partners. She kicks my ass every Tuesday and Thursday when I’m not on shift.”

“So you’re a black belt, too?” his mother asked and Paige nodded.

“Yes, ma’am. David helps me with a self-defense class I teach. He’s our uke.”

“The attacker,” David explained. “Then her students get to kick my ass.”

Paige’s brows lifted. “One puts a great deal of trust in one’s uke,” she said meaningfully. “You trust him with your safety. You expect him to be honest.”

“I see,” his mother said. “You obviously have something on your mind, so Glenn and I will put this food away, and the two of you can talk.”

“Thank you.” Puzzled, David led her back to his empty spare bedroom and closed the door. “What the hell, Paige?” he asked, all pretense of politeness gone.