Chapter 5
On the sixth day, Jenny brought up the idea of Claire moving in with David and I again.
This time, she didn't mention it at the hospital. Instead, she called me at home. "Amanda, have you thought about Claire moving to live with you?"
"Jenny, we only have two bedrooms. One is for David and me, and the other is the study. There's no extra room," I replied.
"Then clear out the study and let her stay there."
"The study is David's, and it's full of his things. I can't move his stuff."
Her voice dropped. "You don't want to live with her, right?"
"It's not that I don't want to. It's not convenient."
"Claire's a girl. She was chased down and almost killed. Don't you have any sympathy at all?"
I gripped the phone, not saying a word.
Jenny continued, "You've been part of the Reed family for three years. Have we ever done you wrong? David's lying in the hospital, and you can't even help with this?"
"Jenny Reed, helping Claire, and taking care of David are two different things," I said.
"How is that any different? David got hurt saving her. It's common sense that you should take care of him, and her too."
Oh really? It was common sense.
My husband got stabbed protecting his ex, and now I had to look after both him and his ex? Seriously?
That was ridiculous.
"Jenny, just let me think about it," I replied.
"Don't think about it. I'll have Claire move in tomorrow. Clear out the study." Then she hung up.
I stared at my phone as the screen went dark.
Then I dialed Tate. "Mr. Hunter, how soon can you get the divorce papers ready?"
"If you've got all your terms set, I can have it done in three days," he replied.
"Three days. That works. Let's do it."
"Mrs. Small, are you sure about this?"
"I'm sure."
On the seventh morning, I tidied up the study.
I didn't touch any of David's things. I made some space by the window, put in a folding bed, and laid out some clean bedding.
At two in the afternoon, Jenny showed up with Claire.
Claire stood at the door, dragging a suitcase, looking a bit embarrassed. "Amanda, I'm really sorry to trouble you."
"It's fine. Come on in," I replied.
Jenny looked around. "Your place is pretty neat, but it's a bit cramped."
I didn't reply to her and led Claire to the study.
"This is where you'll be staying for the next few days. The towels are on the top shelf of the cabinet, and make sure to turn on the water heater before you use it," I said.
"Thanks, Amanda," Claire replied. Then she wheeled her suitcase inside and started unpacking.
Jenny pulled me into the living room and lowered her voice. "Amanda, Claire's a bit introverted, so please try to get along with her."
"I will," I replied.
"She's got a lot of food restrictions: no spicy food, no scallions, ginger, or garlic, and she's allergic to seafood."
I looked at Jenny.
I'd been married into this family for three years, and not once had Jenny ever asked about my own food preferences.
"Got it," I said.
After Jenny left, it was Claire and I at home.
She came out of the study and leaned against the doorframe, watching me. "Amanda, you're not too thrilled about me staying here, are you?"
"I never said that."
"I know it's not ideal, but Jenny wouldn't take no for an answer, so I couldn't really refuse."
I turned to look at her.
She stood there, her hair down, dressed in a white cotton dress, barefoot on the floor.
She looked like a lost kitten that had wandered in, helpless and gentle.
"You don't have to explain yourself to me," I said.
"Amanda, David, and I are just friends," Claire said. "Whatever happened in college is long over. There's nothing between us anymore."
"Okay."
Seeing that was all I said, she pressed her lips together and stayed quiet.
That night, I made three dishes and a soup.
I left out all the spicy stuff, scallions, ginger, garlic, and seafood.
I cooked everything to fit her restrictions.
Claire really dug in, saying it tasted great.
After dinner, she wanted to do the dishes, but I told her to leave them.
So, she went to sit on the couch and watched TV.
While I was washing dishes in the kitchen, I overheard her making a phone call in the living room.
Her voice was low, but with only a partial wall between the kitchen and living room, I could still catch what she was saying.
"Yeah, I've moved in," she whispered. "Don't worry, she doesn't know a thing.
"I know, I'll be careful.
"We'll talk about it when David's out of the hospital."
I nearly dropped the bowl.
The "she" Claire mentioned must be me.