The Truth about Us by Janet Gurtler Read Free Book Online Page A

out his hand. He’s got it wrapped tightly around a plastic blue train.
    The man on the ladder turns and looks down at me. My heart stops.
    It’s not a man at all. It’s him.
    Flynn.

chapter five
    My face burns.
    â€œWhat are you doing here?” he asks.
    Wilf frowns and then looks at me. “What’s up with you kids these days? In my time, we treated nice-looking young ladies with respect,” he says to Flynn gruffly. “Flynn, this is Jess. She volunteers here.”
    I say a silent thank-you to him for calling me nice-looking and glance back at Flynn.
    â€œSince when?” he asks.
    â€œSince now. How about, ‘hello, nice to meet you’?” Wilf says to prompt both of us. “Is that so hard?”
    â€œWe’ve already met,” Flynn says.
    My cheeks stay on fire as he climbs down the ladder.
    â€œThe shelf is fixed,” he says to Wilf. “Slumming?” he adds to me as he jumps to the floor. He folds up the ladder and then leans it against a counter lined with plants.
    The little boy stares back and forth.
    I try to think of something light and witty to save the moment, but my mind is blank. Instead, I panic. “What’d you do to get stuck working at this place?” I say, channeling my inner Nance.
    â€œWhat’d I do?” He stares at me and then his lips turn up. “I didn’t have the right daddy, I guess. I’m here to have lunch. With my little brother. I’m not a volunteer.”
    My stomach drops. Fail. Epic fail. But he’s working?
    â€œYou’re having lunch here?” I ask as he ruffles the hair on his brother’s head.
    â€œYup. We do a few times a week.”
    â€œExcuse me, when did you two meet?” Wilf interrupts.
    Flynn turns his back on me. “My friend gave her a ride home the other night. She lives in Tuxedo. We’re a little far from her homeland.”
    I bite my lip and frown, hoping he doesn’t tell Wilf the whole story.
    â€œWe don’t judge around here,” Wilf says to him as he sticks his finger in the dirt of a nearby pot. “And we don’t make assumptions because of where people live.” He narrows his eyes at Flynn. “You should know that.”
    â€œYeah, well, Tuxedo’s not really my hood.” He looks back at me and then reaches his hand out, and the little boy takes it and looks up at him and then at me.
    â€œMy name’s Kyle. I’m Flynn’s brother,” the little boy announces, clearly not big on being left out of this conversation. He’s watching me with wide eyes. “This is Thomas.” He holds his blue train up. “My train.”
    â€œHi, Kyle,” I say softly. “Nice train.”
    Flynn pulls him closer with a hand protectively on his shoulder as if I’m going to corrupt the little kid or something. I notice a silver bracelet on Flynn’s wrist. It looks like one of those medic alerts, but I can’t make out what it says.
    â€œThomas is my favorite engine,” Kyle announces to me.
    I smile at him, thankful for the diversion. Little kids have always cracked me up. There are lots of them in our neighborhood. I like talking to them.
    â€œWho’s your favorite engine?” Kyle asks me.
    â€œThere you go, getting to the point of what’s important,” Flynn says to his brother. “But girls like her don’t know about Thomas the Tank Engine,” he tells him.
    Girls like me?
    â€œJust so happens I like Mavis the best,” I tell the little boy and narrow my eyes at his big brother. “I loved Thomas the Tank Engine when I was a kid too. And the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. I wasn’t a doll kind of girl.”
    â€œSee,” Wilf says as picks up a bottle and sprays a plant with water. “No judging.” He wipes down the leaf with a cloth.
    â€œExactly,” I say and reach out to the nearest plant and stroke the leaf.
    Kyle rolls his eyes.