Maggie looked up just as Conner dove behind the bed. The gray-haired woman let out a soft whimper as her jaw dropped, but she kept a grip on the silver tray in her hands.
“I… uh brought you a bowl of tomato soup, some leftover rotisserie chicken, and a grilled cheese sandwich.” She set the tray down on the vanity. “Your mother said you wanted a salad, but after being lost in the woods for a week, I thought you might be tired of eating leaves for a while.”
“Maggie.” Jillian’s eyes widened as she walked toward the housekeeper, trying to think of a believable lie.
“Tut-tut.” Maggie put her hands up and closed her eyes. “I wasn’t born sixty-four years old, sweetie. I haven’t forgotten what it’s like to be in love.”
She walked past Jillian, peering around the side of the bed.
“Ma’am.” Conner stood up and nodded to her.
Maggie narrowed her eyes, sizing him up as she brushed off his shoulders and looked down at his feet. He wore sneakers with no socks. “This one isn’t quite as shiny as the boys you’ve courted before.” She pursed her lips and looked him in the eye. “Are you a decent fellow, young man?”
“I try to be, ma’am.” He offered a tremulous smile.
“Well, then you’re already a better man than the last one.” She smiled and pinched his cheek softly. “And that smile could melt butter, couldn’t it?”
“This is my friend, Conner.” Jillian held out her hand. “Conner, this is Maggie.”
“Ma’am.” He extended his hand to shake hers, and she obliged.
“Well, don’t you worry.” She grinned. “I won’t breathe a word.”
The old woman shuffled back toward the door, and Conner backed out of the line of sight in case the guard posted at the door decided to look back. Maggie went back to scolding the man standing at the door for attempting to bar her from feeding a hungry girl.
“It seems like a waste not to eat after she went through all the trouble of cooking on a gas stove in the dark.” Conner eyed the sandwiches. “We could even take it to go if you have a backpack… Well, maybe not the soup.”
“If the whole park squatter thing ever gets old, you'd make an excellent cat burglar.” She smirked.
“Sounds fun.” He reached out to grab her hand. “We could run away together, stealing priceless art and crown jewels.”
“Oh, don’t suck me into your life of crime.” She giggled, playfully turning to walk away.
“Hey, it was your idea.” He pulled her back against him, whispering in her ear. “You could be my fem-fatal, and we would see the world together.”
“So brazen…” She turned to put her arms around his neck. “You don’t have a shy bone in your body, do you?”
“I haven’t found one yet.” He leaned down to kiss her, but she turned her head.
“I’m sorry.” She took a step back. “I know I’m sending you mixed signals. I don’t mean to.”
“Vince is closer to your dad’s age than yours, and Finn has never exactly been the smoothest of criminals.” He sighed. “Am I completely delusional to think that we’re perfect for each other?”
“You are probably the most obvious choice.” She paced back to the French doors and looked through the glass at the moon. “You’re smart and sweet and funny. You’re exactly the kind of guy every girl wants to be with.”
“Every girl but the one I want.” He nodded. “I get it.”
“Conner, I like you.” She looked down at her feet.
“But you don’t love me.” He held out his arms before letting them fall to his sides. “We’ve known each other for five days. I can’t hold that against you.”
“I just don’t know you well enough to commit to having kids with you.” She lifted her eyes to meet his. “I don’t doubt that I could love you someday, but there’s more to consider than that.”
“You don’t have to explain.” He shrugged. “Seriously, I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“Uncomfortable isn’t the word I would use.” She walked back over to the tray of food. “How about we have some dinner, just the two of us?”
“Like a date?” He smiled.
“Sure.” She picked up the tray and moved it to the floor before retrieving one of the candles and placing it in the center of the tray.
“You know you’re the first girl that I’ve been on a date within like a year. “Conner sat down, cross-legged on the opposite side of the tray.
“Is that all?” She picked up one half of the grilled cheese and handed the other to Conner. “I thought you moved in with Vincent and Finn when you were sixteen.”
“No, I turned into a bear and mauled my father when I was sixteen.” He accepted the sandwich and dipped it into the tomato soup. “I spent two years hitch-hiking around the country, working odd jobs for cash where I could. As I made my way closer and closer to New York, I heard more stories about weird paranormal shit happening in Hemlock Park.”
“So, you were homeless for two years?” She frowned, taking a bite of her sandwich. “What was that like?”
“Let’s just say it’s why I’m not scared of living in the woods.” He shuddered. “You’ve never been scared until a cracked-out hobo tries to stab you in the face with a hypodermic needle.”
“Jesus!” Her brow furrowed. “So, you were eighteen when you met Vincent and Finn?”
“Almost nineteen.” He nodded, taking another bite.
“And you’re how old now?” She mulled it over in her head.
“Twenty-four.” He glanced at the chicken.
“Same as me.” She pushed the plate toward him. He grabbed a
