Dannika Dark: Six Months

“This is not my life,” I said to my wet shoes. “I should be like all the other women my age—going to happy hour with friends and flirting with attractive men. Instead, I like to read and play Scrabble. Then again, I’ve never been successful with flirting. Just ask the last guy. He ended up wearing condiments on his shirt after standing beside me in the burger joint. I tried talking to him and wound up slinging a half-opened packet of ketchup on his white shirt. He actually walked off without saying another word! That was so mortifying. Maybe I’d have better luck meeting someone on the Internet.”

I chuckled nervously and peered over my shoulder. A shadow snaked behind a building and my heart palpitated.

No one was there, but I quickened my step.

I pulled out my phone and sent Lexi a text message. She had recently purchased her first cell phone and so we kept in touch more often. She hadn’t figured out all the acronyms, and I’d sometimes make up one just to drive her crazy.

When I finally reached the turnoff that led to my trailer, I was in a full sprint. My purse slapped against my back and my shoes slipped twice in the mud. A gravel road led through the park, but it was too far ahead and not worth the extra walk.

Panting for breath, I reached the door and scraped the mud off my shoes on a large cinder block. Sometimes I wondered how all three of us had lived in that thing. My sister had shared the bed with Grandma, and I’d snuggled up on the built-in sofa.

I stood on the step and tugged off my sopping-wet sneakers. When I unlocked the door and went inside, my nose wrinkled. I must have burned a million scented candles in there, but it’s like the ghost of Grandma Frost was permanently fragranced within. She had a thing about using mothballs and it took five months after she died to get that funk out of there. I’d never been able to expunge of the smell of cigarettes. I think the tar had seared into the walls.

“Hey, little guys,” I said cheerfully, tapping my finger on the round fishbowl sitting on the counter straight ahead.

Hermie and Salvador paddled in sprite little motions, alert and joyful that it was feeding time. I dropped a few pellets of food in the water and moved toward the back of the trailer.

Just to the left of the kitchenette was a hallway that led to the bathroom on the right, closet to the left, and the bedroom straight ahead. I peeled out of my shirt and pants and hung them on a towel rack in my tiny bathroom, which I’d painted a cheery color. I think the name of the paint was called Songbird Yellow. Someday I hoped to have my own garden tub where I could slip beneath a layer of bubbles and read by candlelight. But for now, I made the best of a home that was the length of a few cartwheels.

My cell phone rang and I answered the familiar pop melody. “Rose, I wondered when you’d finally get around to calling me.”

“Hey, sis! You surviving out there?”

I tugged off my wet socks and tossed them by the door. “Couldn’t be better. How about you? Is the weather hot?”

“You wouldn’t believe it! Oh my God, it’s like the freaking desert or something!”

“It is the desert, Rose.”

“You’re so literal, April. I’m just teasing. Are you still mad at me for taking off so fast? By the way, I’m coming down for Christmas. I talked Shane into it and he said it’s cool. We’ll just need a place to stay. I um… you know .”

I knew.

Our trailer park had been featured on the local news more than once for drug busts. There were a few respectable people living there, but it always attracted the ones with questionable character. One time, an elderly gentleman had wandered down the road as naked as a jaybird and bleeding from his head. Grandma had pushed us inside the trailer and called the cops. Rose had never brought Shane over to visit. They always met up somewhere and I couldn’t say a thing about it because I was guilty of doing the same. People judge.

“Are you doing okay, Rose? Do you need money?”

“Big news! We’re getting married next month.”

“Are you sure? It’s so soon. Why don’t you have a long engagement and enjoy each other before you take the plunge?”

Disappointment seeped in my heart and I hated my initial reaction to her good news; Rose had to live her own life. At least they were getting serious about each other and maybe this would be good for her. Rose had been a capricious child and I used to worry that she’d never settle down. I’d made a silent bet with myself that she’d return in five months and it would be the two of us again. Maybe a tiny part of me was jealous that she’d found someone else to share her life with. Rose had never had to take on the responsibilities I’d been forced to shoulder as the older child, and what a blessing that was for her.

I sat down, dressed in just my underwear, twirling a deck of cards in a circle. “Let me know if you need anything, Rose. I’m really happy for you. I’ve just had a long day, so I didn’t mean for it to come out that way. Shane’s a good catch and you know I’m always here if you need anything.”

“Aces,” she said with a giggle. “Gift cards are fab, but we’re not doing the big wedding gig. Shane wants to drive to Vegas and have one of those drive-through weddings. Gotta run. We’re heading out to the honky-tonk tonight. What kind of mess is that? I thought I’d left Redneckville and all they do out here is two-step.” She giggled again and I knew Shane was in the room with her.

“You guys have fun and stay out of trouble! I love you, Rose.”

“I’ll have fun for the both of us, April. As usual .”

I set the phone down and sighed thoughtfully as I lifted a heavy pot of water from the floor. Stupid rain. Water leaked in through a skylight and some dents on the roof and I had no clue how to fix them. The trailer was pretty old and my grandma had mentioned a tree branch falling on it years ago during a storm. She had done some work on it since then, but hadn’t seemed concerned with a little water damage.

I was lingering in front of the sink in my cherry-red bra and panties, dumping out a pot of water, when a knock at the door startled me. The thick brown curtains were closed, so I stood still and waited another second. Nobody ever came over unannounced, and I wasn’t on speaking terms with my loopy neighbors. The insistent knock sounded again.

“Is there an April Frost in there related to Ginny Frost? I have business matters to discuss with you of an important nature.”

“Can you come back in the daytime?”

“I came by this afternoon and again around seven. I can tell you right now that sunshine doesn’t make me any prettier to look at. Your grandma owes me some money. I don’t have time to figure out what your schedule is, and my time is your money.”

Oh, crap . “Um, just a minute.”

I grabbed a white sweatshirt and pulled it over my head. The only pants I could find were yesterday’s jeans, so I yanked those on and answered the door barefoot.

A man wearing a hat looked up at me with steel eyes—one boot in the mud and the other on a step.

“You can call me Maddox,” he said in a burly, Southern drawl.

Maddox looked to be a seasoned man in his late forties. He wore a scruffy beard that was silver and brown. His wavy hair rested on the tips of his shoulders, and his faded brown boots matched the color of his hat. It wasn’t a traditional cowboy hat, but more like what the guys in the Australian outback wore. Maddox looked like he’d stepped out of a time machine.

“Can I help you?” I said through the crack in the door.

“I’m going to cut to the chase. Ginny Frost owed me fifty grand and I know you’re her granddaughter. Open up and let’s have a friendly chat about business. I won’t take but five minutes of your time.”