Page 95 of Revival
“That’s not a problem.”
“Great. I’ll call the daycare center on the way and let them know you’re coming. I also promised her ice cream, so if you could help make good on that, I’ll owe you one.”
Taking my seven-year-old niece who I barely know out for ice cream doesn’t sound all that hard, but I’m suddenly insanely nervous to mess this up.
“You got it.”
Sutton rushes around the room, throwing a few things into his pockets. I follow him back to the foyer when he suddenly stops. “Oh, hey, did you need something?”
Did I need something?
What I needed was to find a way back to my family. To show them I’m serious about sticking around. Getting handed babysitting duty seems like I accomplished at least part of that task, and I didn’t even have to open my mouth.
I clap him on the shoulder. “Just trying to make myself more available. I’m here now, Sutton. I don’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon.”
His serious gaze finds mine over his shoulder. “’Bout damn time.”
I follow him out into the sun. He jogs down the steps and flips a pair of sunglasses onto his face.
“There’s a retirement party coming up for Sheriff Perry in a couple of weeks. I’ll text you the info if you want to come by. Should give you enough time to settle in first, but it’d be nice for the folks around town to see you again.”
Bile churns in my stomach. The lack of information robs me of the chance to decline. Now isn’t the best time to share with Sutton what I think about Jim, but I mentally prepare myself to find the opportunity.
I’ve kept our secrets long enough.
“That guy’s still around?” I offer instead.
“Sure is. Took Silas and me under his wing. We owe our careers to him.”
Angry heat twitches my fingertips. “Didn’t know that.”
“You wouldn’t.” Sutton chuckles. “I’m texting you the address and the name of Nellie’s teacher. Gotta run. If you hang around Mom’s until I get there, we can grab dinner.”
“Sounds good.”
He waves and hops into his truck. At a much slower pace, I climb into mine.
* * *
I walkinto the daycare center and approach the front desk. There’s a direct view into one of the play rooms, and I find Nellie almost instantly. She works on an art project with popsicle sticks, her tongue poking out the side of her mouth in concentration. Paint splatters stain her fingers all the colors of the rainbow.
Her eyes brighten when they meet mine through the window, reminding me so much of a younger Sutton that my gut tightens. I offer her a subtle wave.
“Can I help you?”
The door to her playroom opens before I answer. From my periphery, I see Nellie bound out into the hall.
“I’m here to pick up my niece. I’m Spencer Stone.” I hand her my ID, ignoring the way her eyes slide over the scars on my hand.
“And what’s your niece’s name?”
I wink at the receptionist. “I think her name is… Jelly.”
A little giggle sounds from the hall.
Catching on, the receptionist says, “Hmm. There’s no Jelly here.”
“No? What about… Belly?”
