Caged

4-1

4

With a couple of pizza boxes balancing on my left palm, I knocked on Shelley’s front door. A backward glance showed Dad and the other two watching me like they had nothing better to do. I shrugged my shoulder, as if to say, ‘Why the hell you all just sitting there? Leave already’, but they didn’t move.

I understood Dad’s insistence. If one of them had asked to be dropped off elsewhere, no way would I have pulled off until they’d entered the building.

Didn’t stop their presence irking me, though.

A door closed somewhere upstairs within the house, followed by the descent of footsteps. I turned back, at the catch twisting from the inside.

The front door swung inward, and Shelley blinked up at me, frowning when her gaze shifted toward the pizza boxes. “I’m not really that hungry.”

“Maybe not.” My head ducked down to hers. “But I am.”

Confusion moved into her eyes.

“You shouldn’t be alone, Shel. You going to let me in, or leave me to keep an eye on you from the doorstep, where I’ll have to eat my pizza like some homeless person?”

She breathed out a sigh and took a step back, widening the gap between door and frame.

As I spun to wave my faithful observers on their way, Dad’s hand lifted in salute, and my truck rolled away, as I entered the hall.

“You didn’t have to do this,” Shelley said, closing the door.

“Try telling that to Gabe.”

The TV showed one of the regular soaps as I ducked into the living room. More empty coffee mugs littered the table-top, once again with Shelley’s phones set amongst them. My eyes fell on a third phone—one that hadn’t been there before.

I opened my mouth to ask, but closed it again at an approach from upstairs.

Shelley’s eyes darted toward the door, as it burst open into the living room, and a young girl with raven black hair slipped inside.

“Who was it, Shel—” The girl halted, her eyes widening.

“Ethan, this is—”

“Mia,” I said, realising how idiotic I’d been to believe Shelley would have no one around without me. I nodded to her. “Nice to meet you.”

Her eyebrows winged up. “You know who I am?”

“Sure. You’re Gabe’s ...” Mate?

Her lips curved a little, warmth pushing aside the consternation in her expression. “He tell you about me?”

“All the ... um ... time ...” My hand brushed across my hair as it dawned I’d probably said more than Gabe would have liked. “Pizza?” I lifted my food offering toward her.

She pointed to the box. “Pepperoni?”

I smiled. “Of course.”

“Sweet.”

“I’ll get you some plates.” Shelley turned for the kitchen.

“Make sure you get yourself one, too, Shel.” Mia lifted the top box from my hand and rounded the sofa with it. “Woman has to eat sometime, right?”

In that one statement, I saw what attracted Gabe.

***