Folk Around and Find Out (Good Folk: Modern Folktales #2)(69)

Charlotte also sounded broken. Obviously, I didn’t know or understand all the particulars of the situation, but her tone made me slightly nauseous and feeling galvanized to do something.

On pure instinct, I darted forward without any real plan. Furthermore, I spoke before I could think on the intelligence of speaking while having no plan. “Hey, Charlotte.”

Charlotte’s head whipped toward me, eyes bugging out. “H-Hank,” she said on a breath. Her mouth dropped open, her jaw moving up and down with no additional sound. I’d startled her.

Ignoring how beautiful she looked while startled, I tossed my thumb over my shoulder. “Can I help? Utterly Ice Cream is just there.”

“I—ice cream? What?” Standing and facing me, she placed one hand on her daughter’s shoulder and spoke as though winded.

“I can sit with Kimmy for a bit at the ice cream shop, if you need someone to do it.” My gaze shifted to Kimmy. She looked caught between the distrust of a stranger and the promise of ice cream. Or possibly it was the allure of missing out on her nasty grandmother. I didn’t want to make the girl uncomfortable, so I withdrew my phone from my back pocket. “Or you—I have my cell. You could text or call your momma. We could meet her there.”

Charlotte’s gaze darted between me and the phone in my hand. She seemed to be having trouble parsing through the suddenness of my presence and my words.

“Please, Momma?” Kimmy’s voice pulled both my attention and Charlotte’s to her. “Can I go to the shop and wait for Nanna?”

Charlotte shoulders drooped, her body appearing to deflate. “Yes, honey. That’s fine. But you’ll have to wait with Ha—Mr. Weller. Is that okay?” Her hand came to her forehead.

The little girl shifted her gaze to mine, wariness plain as the nose on her face. Surprising me, she said, “That’s fine.”

This kid must really hate her paternal grandmother. I can relate.

Unlocking my phone, I gave Kimmy a small incline of my head, then approached Charlotte to hand her the cell. “Here you go.”

Charlotte let her hand fall away from her forehead and accepted the cell with a tight smile. Mouthing, Thank you, her eyes didn’t quite meet mine.

That was fine. I was too busy being eyeballed by her oldest child. We stood in silence, regarding each other as Charlotte sent her text. The kid really did look like a Buckley. It was odd seeing the same features on her small face that I’d despised as a youth. But I didn’t despise this kid; I didn’t even know her. Plus, with Charlotte being who she was, and Joshua and Sonya being who they were, there had to be something worth knowing about Kimmy.

“Nanna will meet you at Utterly Ice Cream in about twenty minutes,” Charlotte finally said, addressing Kimmy. “But I don’t have any cash on me, so you’ll have to wait until she gets there if you want a cone.”

“Why can’t he buy it for me?” Kimmy tilted her chin toward me.

Charlotte’s eyes immediately narrowed and she clenched her jaw. “Kimberly Dawn Mitchell, that was incredibly rude. You are not entitled to ice cream. Mr. Weller is doing us a kindness and does not owe you an ice cream cone or anything else. In fact, now Nanna won’t be buying you one either. Apologize, now.”

Kimmy’s eyes flashed with something that looked like resentment, but instead of snarking back—which I suspected was her habit, given the fierceness in her expression—she turned to me and said, “I am sorry for being rude.”

I worked to hide an inexplicable smile. This kid reminded me of myself at her age, so much. Except, this child apparently knew when to pick her battles. I never apologized. Ever. Even when I knew I was being a shit. I’d take a whooping and no dinner and four hours in a dark closet and whatever else over admitting to any wrongdoing.

Charlotte turned to me, her gaze meeting mine this time, and I didn’t miss the faint blush creeping up her cheeks. I didn’t miss it partially because I was hungry for the sight of her, but also because it suited her, made her lovely eyes bright. Greedily, I memorized this version of Charlotte. She didn’t embarrass easily; I knew that and admired her for it. And it’s not that I wanted her embarrassed, but that wouldn’t keep me from appreciating the aftermath.

“Thank you,” she said, looking uncertain. “And I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry and don’t worry about it,” I said, hoping my expression communicated more than my admiration for her blushing cheeks and bright eyes. “It’s no problem. I’m happy to help.”

She gave me a relieved and grateful smile. It made my chest swell and a certainty rose to the surface. I could do this. I could be just the good things for Charlotte and none of the time-suck, energy-vampire things.

For the first time in my life with someone other than Beau, I wanted to be a help, and I wasn’t expecting anything in return.





“What kind of ice cream would you get if you could?”

“Dunno,” Kimmy said, flat and disinterested and glaring, again reminding me so much of me as a kid that this time I did smile. But just a small one.

“Hmm.” Leaning back in my chair, I crossed my arms. We were sitting at a table under the awning of the ice cream parlor and I was doing my best to ignore the disapproving glares sent our way by busybodies coming out of the shop and by folks meandering past. Admittedly, this was the first time I’d experienced discomfort at being the recipient of such stares rather than reveling in the disdain.