The Good Girl. Christy Barritt

to see what I was missing out on.

      And it would give me some time away from the ghost living at Lana’s.

      Cooper dug at my arm.

      “Ouch!”

      He displayed the tiny sliver of paint between the tweezers. “Got it.”

      “Praise God,” I whispered. My face immediately flushed. “And I’m not saying that in vain. I mean it with every ounce of my being.”

      Not that this man probably cared. Most people didn’t anymore, so I didn’t know why I explained myself. I wasn’t even sure if I cared. But I had cared for so long. The fact was that I even confused myself on matters of spirituality right now, so explaining my feelings to anyone else would be a lesson in foolishness.

      “I just need to bandage this up and you’ll be set.”

      In gentle, swift motions, he wrapped white gauze around the wound. I noticed for the first time that he smelt like spearmint and baby shampoo, a surprisingly nice combination. “You’ll need to check this every day for infection, just to be safe. You have had your tetanus shot, right?”

      “Every seven years.”

      “Good girl.”

      “That’s me,” I mumbled.

      “All done.”

      Our eyes met for a moment, and I realized there was something about Cooper I liked. His eyes were kind and steadfast. He was the kind of neighbor anyone would want to have.

      I cleared my throat and turned my attention to little Austin, who was playing with a fire truck on the rug. “Cute boy.”

      “I think so.”

      I scanned the pictures on his bookcase and spotted a snapshot of Cooper, a baby, and a blonde. She was just the type of woman I expected to see with a man like Cooper—tanned, thin, and gorgeous. “Your wife is beautiful.”

      It seemed Cooper tried to smile, but failed. “Thank you.”

      I wondered about his reaction. Maybe they were separated, and I’d put my foot in my mouth. “I should go and see if I can maneuver the tank my sister insists on driving.”

      He leaned against the bookcase, his arms crossed over his chest in a relaxed manner. “We’ll drive you to Target if you want.”

      “Really? You don’t have to do that. It’s totally imposing on your day.”

      “You’re not imposing. Besides, there are a few things I need to pick up.”

      “That’s...really kind of you.” I shifted, not wanting to ask the next question but feeling the need to anyway. “Would that be weird for your wife, though?”

      Cooper looked away for a moment. “No, she’s...”

      Austin looked up at me with wide eyes. “She’s with Jesus in heaven.”

      My heart dropped, while at the same time being clutched with grief. “I’m so sorry.”

      “You didn’t know. It’s okay.” Cooper straightened and shoved his hands down into his pockets. “So about Target...?”

      My cheeks flushed at my mistake, but Cooper didn’t seem to have any hard feelings against me. Besides, I really needed to go to Target. “Yeah, that would be great. I’ll grab my purse and be right out.”