Page 40 of Old Habits
“Living room,” I say. I point to the hall. “Kitchen to the left, bathroom straight ahead, bedrooms on the right.”
She nods once before moving to set her backpack down on the sofa.
“No,” I tell her. “You take my room. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“No, Will. I’ll be fine here.”
“I don’t want you to just be fine. You’ll take my room.”
“I’ve been enough of an annoyance tonight.”
I clench my jaw. “Jovie, I just found you sleeping in your car and, according to you, it’s not the first time you have. My instinct right now is to comfort you and the only way I know how to do that is by providing you with a warm bed, some food, possibly a shower, I don’t know—”
“Will, stop.” She stands off the sofa. “Okay. I’ll take your room.”
“There’s plenty to eat,” I add. “Help yourself to whatever is in the fridge.”
“I’ll probably just go to sleep. I’m not hungry.”
“Well, for the morning, then.”
She steps closer and pauses in front of me. “Thank you, Will.”
I gaze down at her downturn face, feeling those instincts tug toward something more but I keep my hands to myself. “You’re welcome.”
She takes another step but I shift in front of her.
“Jovie, I know we’ve been through a lot but I don’t ever want you to think you can’t come to me when you need help,” I say. “My door is always open to you.”
She looks up and nods. “I know, it’s just…” Her voice fades off but the missing words are obvious.
“I know,” I say. “But still.”
Jovie continues down the hall and disappears behind my bedroom door. It latches closed, blocking me out, but I’d rather there be only one door between us than the thousand there were before.
At least now I know she’s safe and taken care of but she’s not out of the woods yet. She’s in deeper than I thought if she can’t handle seventy-five bucks a week in rent — but don’t get me started on how badly I want to pummel Hank right now.
Whatever she’s been up to, it didn’t involve a savings account and she’s still too stubborn to ask for help.
I sit down on my couch and kick off my shoes with one protective eye focused on the hallway. I slide a hand into my jacket pocket and feel for the folded-up note stuffed inside. I wish I could follow Tucker’s lead and believe that it’s meaningless but I can’t. Not yet, anyway.
If Jovie won’t ask for help, then that’s fine. I’ll make sure she never has to. She won’t like it, but…
I’ll make it convincing.