Page 64 of The Fast Lane

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Page 64 of The Fast Lane

Mack led the way to the door of the unit right across from us, Karen basking in his arms like an Egyptian queen. The house was white with black trim and shutters, the yard simple but neat. An older model Land Cruiser was parked in the driveway. I smiled, thinking of how Abe had always wanted one.

I wiped my sweaty palms on my shirt and took the last two steps, Theo just behind me. I held up my fist to knock and hesitated.

Theo leaned closer and whispered, his breath warm and citrus-y from his morning orange. “A.N.”

I turned my head. “What?”

“A.N.” he said again just as quietly and while I was still confused, he knocked on the door. “The initials of my pen name.”

“You’re telling me that no?—”

The click of a lock halted me mid-sentence. The door swung open, and my chest grew tight.

“Hi,” a tiny little voice said.

I shifted my gaze down, down, down to the source of the tiny little voice. It belonged to a tiny little girl with huge brown eyes and light-brown hair currently tied up in what had to be the worst excuse for a ponytail I’d ever seen. I guessed she was about four or five, around the same age as Ellie’s son, Oliver.

“Oh, um, hi?” I turned back to Theo. “Are you sure we have the right address?”

He peered through the door. “I’m pretty sure we do.”

I crouched in front of the tiny human. She had a doll, with a hairstyle that remarkably resembled her own, clutched against her chest. Up close, I could see the faintest dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks. A little cupid bow of a mouth, long, dark eyelashes, and ears that stuck out a bit.

“Hey, is your mom or dad here?” I asked.

“I’m not a’pposed to talk to strangers.”

“That’s a good rule. Are you supposed to answer the door?”

Her eyes widened with surprise and perhaps a touch of guilt. Before anyone could say another word, she slammed the door.

I rounded on Theo and propped a fist on my hip. “What the heck is going on?”

Theo adjusted his baseball cap. “No idea.”

“Who is this kid?” I asked.

“I’m Hallie and I’m four years old,” the little voice shouted at us from behind the door.

“Hallie, it’s nice to meet you,” I yelled back. “Is your daddy home?”

“He’s in the shower but I’m a’pposed to sit on the couch and watch a cartoon and not answer the door ever but…” She mumbled something I couldn’t quite make out.

“What’s your daddy’s name?” I asked.

“His name is Daddy,” she said, and I did not miss the hint of Duh, Lady in her tone.

“Not helpful at all,” I muttered.

“Here he comes,” Hallie said and then in a slightly quieter voice, “Don’t say I opened the door, ’kay? ’Cause then I won’t get to have ice cream for breakfast.”

“Hallie, what are you doing by the door? Is someone out there? You’re supposed to be sitting on the couch.” My stomach dipped. I recognized that voice.

The door pulled open again and this time, my brother Abe stood in front of me. He froze, his eyes darting from Theo to Mack and then to me. “Ali?”

I nodded, the lump lodged in my throat making words a challenge. “Hi.”

“Ali,” he said again, a touch of awe in his voice. He wrapped me in a bone-crushing hug, practically lifting me off the ground. “I can’t believe it.”




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