✔️The Greaser and the Skirtchaser [18+]

42. What Aunt Milly Warned Him About

TW: suicidal themes

He stayed. So, Blake kept getting invites, and Vance kept coming over to make sure he accepted them, and zietta kept making food to make sure Blake would eat it fresh. One of the few times Blake could get out of zietta's house was to visit Officer Nelson at his house, so he could thank him for clearing out his dad's house for him. The old guy laughed—he really laughed—when he saw Blake and gave him a handshake, and he said he was glad to see Blake back in town. He felt awful sorry after he'd responded to the call about his father, and the Lord told him he had to make it right. It all felt very nostalgic and only slightly awkward for Blake. Officer Nelson sent him off with an order to visit again.

The other time Blake was able to leave was to stand outside his house as a shiny black Jaguar stopped in front of the sidewalk.

Jenny, with her now cut-short blonde curls protected by a thick black headscarf and a thicker overcoat and black heels threw open the door and launched herself at Blake. She trapped him in a hug strong enough to rival zietta's.

He patted her on the back. "Hello, Jenny."

She hadn't said anything. She just squeezed harder.

"Urk!" Blake patted her arm. "Jenny."

She let go of him and swiftly stepped around him toward the house like she hadn't been wringing the life out of him, and she was now heading into a business meeting. "Have you found any furniture yet? Oh, we must replace all your appliances while we're looking. Perhaps an espresso machine would do, too. That'll be my housewarming gift—"

He couldn't stop her from barging into his house and finding that he'd actually removed what was left of the furniture.

"Blake!"

"Jenny, listen—"

"I can't believe you. Have you even contacted the electricity company? How is my breath fogging in here?" she berated, jabbing a gloved finger at him. "Are you really sleeping in here?"

"Jenny, I'm selling the house."

"No, you're not." She spun on her heel and kept marching through the house as she became increasingly offended at everything. "First of all, no homeowner would look for property here. This shrinking, economically backwards town hardly offers anything other than a good school! For goodness's sake, some ladies even barter goods at the farmer's market. You'd have to list it dirt-cheap to get a buyer to look twice at it."

"I'm not looking to make money, Jenny."

"Then, what are you looking to do?" she hissed, turning suddenly.

"I want to go to Resthaven." Blake looked her in the eye. "I've got friends up there, and they'd look after me, too. I'll get an apartment up there, and it's not too far away from Northfield. You can visit any time."

She looked at him. "I told you. I told you why I want you in Northfield."

"I've got friends up there. I've got Rita and Rocky—these two that are just as ride-or-die as you." Blake crossed his arms. "I'm not—nothing will happen to me, okay?"

"Tell me why you won't just stay in Northfield in the first place." Her eyes were blazing in this cold dining room. "Hm? Tell me right now why you want to leave so desperately."

He looked at the floor and sputtered, "I just—Resthaven suits me better. I've had enough of Northfield, and Northfield's had enough of me—"

"It's because you're avoiding the one person who makes you feel anything."