Page 21 of The Wrong Track

“Did I hear someone talking?” Tobin asked me as he hopped into the living room. He hated his crutches. He hated having to depend on them, I’d discovered in the short time that I’d been staying here. I’d learned a lot about him, I thought.

“Someone was at the door, but I don’t know who it was,” I said and as I did, pounding started, hard and insistent. I moved out of the way as he came to look through the window himself, and then he immediately opened it back up.

“Hey, Lulu,” he said to the woman, and then I knew who she was. This beautiful little pixie of a person was his former girlfriend, the one he’d broken up with around Thanksgiving—or she’d broken up with him, I wasn’t sure which. I knew that Hazel had said they were done, over, and she and Miss Monica had seemed relieved by that.

“Toby, who is that person? Who is that girl?” I heard her high voice demand.

“Come on in,” he invited, and hobbled out of the way.

“Oh, Toby! Your leg! I didn’t hear about it or I would have been here sooner,” she said as she bustled inside. Then she caught another glimpse of me. “Who is this?” she asked sharply. “Why is this large person in your house?”

“Bye,” I told Tobin. I had to get to work and I didn’t want to be in the middle of him and his girlfriend. Former girlfriend, whatever.

“I’m grilling tonight,” he called as I left, and I rolled my eyes. He was insisting on cooking outside on his small deck in the snow because he was sure that I’d never had a burger the way he made them. I was sure, too, because he was a really, really bad cook. I’d taken over almost all the meals and it was much better that way.

“You’re making her dinner?” Lulu asked, but I was gone.

This was the first time I’d been bothered at his house, I realized as I let the car warm up and the windows defrost. No one had come for me except for Hazel, who still dropped by fairly frequently to check on Tobin and how I was keeping up with my medical issues. She’d been impressed by the little changes I’d made to the house, which weren’t really changes. Like, I’d found a box marked “Tablecloths” in the basement and put one out for us to use at dinner. They’d belonged to Tobin’s grandma and he remembered her making it, he’d said. I’d found her sewing machine in a closet with fabric and trim and one night I’d made some pillows for the couch, because it looked so stark.

“You’re making yourself at home,” Hazel had said happily, but that wasn’t true. I was making the house better, maybe, but it was for Tobin.

He was a nice guy. It was that simple; he was nice. He was easy to be around, because he never seemed to get too emotional one way or another. I never had to worry about his mood flipping, flipping like how someone might turn over a table. He got angry when he read about offseason trades on the Woodsmen team, or when my car got trapped in his driveway when the plows piled a wall of snow behind it, or when he burned up a batch of oatmeal. Yes, that was how bad he was in the kitchen: he struggled with oatmeal.

But by and large, he was even-keeled. I liked that about him and I liked that I didn’t have to worry. He didn’t make messes, either, and he was so appreciative of whatever I did to make his life easier, like when I’d gotten him a long scrub brush for the shower because I’d seen it in the drug store and thought of him.

“This is great!” he said, smiling at me like I’d given him such an amazing gift. “Thanks, Remy. Thanks a lot.” He’d meant it, it wasn’t sarcasm.

Throughout my shift behind the counter at the gift shop, I wondered about him and his ex, Lulu, and what they were doing at his house. Not that it was my business. He was getting stir crazy and unhappy, even with me there, and she would provide some company.

Maybe they’d hook up, too. That would put him in a better mood. I’d had all kinds of things that I’d done to Kilian to try to distract him when I’d seen his warning signs, and sometimes they’d worked. Tobin wasn’t getting into a rage or anything like that but I could tell that he’d been frustrated that he couldn’t do his job, couldn’t get out without help. Probably Lulu also had tricks that would ease that frustration.

“Remy?”

“I wasn’t asleep,” I said immediately. I hadn’t needed to rest my eyes as much because I’d been sleeping better in the bed at Tobin’s house, and that seemed to have cut down on the dreams I’d been having, too.

Selma laughed. “I know you’re awake! But you were off in another world. Come on to the party,” she said, and I eased off my stool. My back and hips had been hurting lately, and I wouldn’t be sorry to say goodbye to that seat.

“I’m not going to the party,” I said. “I need to go home.” This was the last time I would ever see her, so I added, “It was nice to meet you.”

She smiled. “It was nice to meet you, too. You were a good employee here. Conscientious, except for the sleeping. But I understand.” She held a little gift bag toward me. “It’s for you,” she told me when I didn’t reach for it. “Go on and open it.”

I did, and I found a miniature pair of soft, yellow shoes. I held one up to examine it. It looked like something to put on a keychain.

“I love to knit,” Selma explained.

“You made these for me?” They were beautiful, but I didn’t fully understand.

She smiled again. “I know you didn’t want to talk about it, but congratulations. I bet you’ll have a beautiful baby. You must be so excited!”

I stared at the tiny, tiny shoe. Someone was supposed to wear this. How could a person so small ever survive? I put it back into the gift bag and nodded at her. “Thank you,” I said. “Thank you for thinking of me. You were a good boss, too.”

“I’m glad you thought so. If you need another job in the future, stop by.”

I nodded and walked out of the gardens for the last time. And once I got to the car, I threw the bag into the way, way back. How long had she known? Did everyone?

I didn’t drive home as carefully as usual because my mind kept wandering a lot and when I pulled into the driveway, it was dark, which was not how Tobin liked to keep his house. He seemed to enjoy having everything illuminated and that was fine with me. I didn’t like dark corners, either. But right now, I had to go inside by myself, which I did with my knife ready in my hand. I went as quietly as I could but there were so many places for someone to hide, so many cupboards and closets and pieces of furniture to lurk under or behind. I had only searched two rooms when I heard the front door open and, heart in my mouth, I went to look.

“There you are,” Tobin said, smiling.