“Howdy, neighbor,” he said.
“Who are you and what have you done with blond Oscar?” I asked.
“Let’s go,” he said, hooking his thumb toward his truck.
“What? Where? Why are you here?”
“Liza J said you needed a ride. I’m your ride.”
I shook my head. “Oh, no. I’m not doing this with you today.”
“Not playing games, Daisy. Get your ass in the truck.”
“As charming as that invitation is, Viking, I’m taking Waylay back-to-school shopping. You don’t strike me as a ‘spend the day shopping with the girls’ kind of neighbor.”
“You’re not wrong. But maybe I’m a ‘drop the girls off at the mall and pick them up when they’re done’ kind of neighbor.”
“No offense. But no. You’re not that either.”
“We can stand here arguing about it for the next hour or you can get your ass in the truck.” He sounded almost cheerful, and that made me suspicious.
“Why can’t I just borrow Liza’s car?” That had been the plan. I didn’t like when things didn’t go according to plan.
“Can’t now. She needs it.” He leaned around me and called into the house. “Waylay, get a move on! Bus is leaving.”
I heard the thunder of feet upstairs as my niece forgot to play it cool.
I put a hand to his chest and pushed him back until we were both standing on the porch. “Listen, this trip is important. I’m trying to bond with Waylay, and she’s never been back-to-school shopping before. So if you’re going to do anything to ruin it, I’d rather take a Lyft to the mall. In fact, that’s what I’m going to do.”
He looked downright amused. “And how are you going to do that with a piece of shit phone that’s too old to download apps?”
Damn it.
Waylay vaulted into the living room, landing with both feet before rearranging her expression into a look of boredom. “Hey,” she said to Knox.
“Knox is going to drive us,” I explained with zero enthusiasm.
“Cool. How much stuff are you planning to buy if you need a whole entire pickup truck?” Waylay wondered.
“Your aunt said she plans to buy out half the mall. Figured it was best to come prepared,” Knox said.
I caught the little half smile on her face before she led the way down the porch steps and said, “Let’s get this over with.”
My suspicions were further heightened when we got in the truck, and I found a coffee for me and a smoothie for Waylay.
“What’s your game?” I asked Knox when he slid behind the wheel.
He ignored me to frown over a text.
There was something about the way he hesitated that gave me a bad feeling. “Is Liza okay? Did something happen at Honky Tonk?”
“Relax, Daisy. Everybody and everything is fine.”
He fired off a response and started the truck.
We headed east and joined the slog of Northern Virginia traffic. I checked my tidy stack of cash again while Knox and Waylay made small talk. I tuned them out and tried to squash the anxiety. Yesterday at the library, I’d logged into my accounts to confirm some budget numbers. Money was tight. The bar shifts and free rent were helping. But my income wasn’t enough to impress any judge in any court, especially not if I added a car payment into the mix.
I had three options: 1. Find a day job while Waylay was in school. 2. Borrow against my retirement savings. 3. Sell my house on Long Island.