[chapter eight]
Disclaimer: If you've heard of them, I don't own them. Everything else is mine, so no stealing, pretty please. ;-)
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~Jimmie's POV~
I wish I could take her home. I hate just leaving her at the shop. And I hate picking her up there. It feels so skiivy.
Especially if she were to break down again, or not be able to start her car, or if someone was waiting for her when I drop her off.
I worry about these things.
I amble through the front door and look behind the counter for Shea. She told me to stop by after she's done working and that we could go for a late dinner or something. I've been looking forward to it all day.
But I don't see her.
"Hi. You're Alice, right?" I ask the familiar looking woman behind the counter, who nods curtly. "I'm Jimmie. I was supposed to meet Shea here. Is she around?"
Alice looks me up and down, rather than a father sizing up a date for his daughter. God, I hope I pass.
Apparently, I do, as she begins speaking a moment later. "She left early today. There was an emergency at home and she had to go. She was quite upset. I guess she didn't think to call you."
Oh god. An emergency. I hope she's okay. Now I'm gonna worry.
"Did she say what type of emergency? Is she okay?" I ask, concerned. Shea still hasn't told me about her home life, but I sense that it's … stressful. I wish she would open up to me, maybe I could help.
"She's fine. She said she would call me back, but she hasn't yet. I'm a bit worried." Alice says with concern. "She's usually such a responsible, levelheaded girl."
"Do you think I should go over there? Make sure she's okay?" I ask, genuinely wanting to know what I can do to help Shea.
"Um … " Alice hesitates and I silently beg her to say yes. "If you wouldn't mind, that would be great. Just to make sure. Do you have her address?"
I shake my head no. "She always makes me pick her up here. I don't know why."
"She's very protective. But she likes you very much. I know she would want to see you. Would like your help. She's such a young girl for such responsibility."
Within minutes, I'm out the door with Shea's address in my hand. I speed across town to her neighborhood and find her house after a few misses. Nervously, I wipe my palms on my slacks as I ring the doorbell and I can hear Shea's voice from inside. Thank god, she's okay.
She opens the door and her jaw drops. "Jimmie … what are you … what are you doing here?" She stammers, her cheeks flushing red.
"I stopped by the shop but Alice said there was an emergency and you haven't called. She was worried, and so was I." I say in a rush and Shea slaps her forehead.
"I completely forgot to call her." Shea berates herself.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah. I just … "
"Can I come in, Shea?" I ask quietly.
She hesitates for a moment longer, then opens the door wider to let me in. "I … sure."
I step into the brightly lit home and close the door gently behind me. I take Shea's hand and give her a reassuring squeeze. She smiles at me as she leads me into the family room, where an older woman is sitting in a recliner, staring off into space.
"Jimmie, this is my mother, Dorothy. Mama, this is my friend Jimmie." Shea says slowly, looking at her mother. "Say hi to Jimmie."
"Who are you?" The woman asks, looking straight at Shea. "Where is my sweet Samuel? What have you done with him, you wicked girl?"
Whoa. What's going on here?