Long hours turned into seeming endless shifts. Lucy was starting to seriously worry about her housemate.

Wyatt was working two jobs, one of which was at a garage that specialized in being available at all hours. Hence the serious sleep deficit. He kept saying he was going to quit one or the other job one of these days, but the money was just too good.

His other job was with a program that a local youth center had to help connect teens, especially ones who were at-risk or who had some misbehavior in their past, with a professional who could share some practical skills. Wyatt worked it out with his boss at the garage to use the facilities during low traffic periods to teach the kids. There was a vintage race car from the 50s that Wyatt had bought and was carefully re-conditioning. It needed help from top to bottom so it was a great vehicle to teach the kids the basics in all kinds of repair.

Lucy teased him that he was getting soft hanging out with kids.

"Are you kidding? If these kids are anything like I was at that age, I'm gonna need to toughen up to keep up with them. I'm lucky half of them think garage work is a good way to get techniques for boosting a car. I'm just hoping they'll learn enough to have something to fall back on other than that, like I was lucky enough to do."

Despite telling herself it was ridiculous and foolish, Lucy found herself missing Wyatt as he worked these long hours. On the spur of the moment, she grabbed a chocolate croissant and cup of coffee one lunchtime and showed up at his garage to surprise him.

Wyatt wheeled himself out from under a car and gave her a blinding smile. It lit up his grease-smeared face like a shaft of sunlight breaking through clouds. Pulling a grimy glove off his hand, he'd rested his clean, calloused fingers on her forearm, emphasizing his gratitude as he thanked her. Lying in bed that night, Lucy tamped down the memory of the warm feeling that had blossomed in her stomach at his smile. She tried to forget the heat that had spread up her arm from his gentle touch.

Later that week she came back with a day-old pastry and an iced drink. She told herself she felt sorry for him. It was the hungry way he wolfed down the croissant that she tried to dwell on, not the promise of seeing gratitude in those sky blue eyes again. Or any other kind of hunger. I'm a terrible liar, even to myself.

It took months for it to dawn on her that the long hours he worked were all about her.

Looking back, the clues were all there. For a few months running she'd been short on rent. But each time Wyatt greeted the pile of wadded cash, rolled quarters and nickels she lumped over with a friendly smile and assurances that the landlord would understand. After an initial conversation about utilities she had never seen or heard more about how much her share was. It took picking up the mail on a day Wyatt worked a triple shift—day job, followed by ed center, followed by third shift at the garage—and Lucy inadvertantly intercepting a stack of bills, for her to realize that Wyatt was sheltering her from the real costs of their apartment.

Lucy's emotions ranged wildly. She was choked with embarrassment as she read the utility history. As she added these amounts to the running total she'd kept of her short falls, her mind went blank with fear about how she could possibly pay this back on her slim paycheck and scant tips. She flushed scarlet as she realized that he'd told her that "something had worked out" to reduce her share of the rent several months back. It was that very month that he'd picked up the second job. Her heart fluttered for several long moments when she wondered if he was doing all this because he cared about her. Several looks he had given her flashed before her mind's eye. The way he'd taken her hand in both of his the first night she couldn't pay all her rent, and promised her it would be all right.

Then an icy chill went through her as another possibility occurred. Maybe he's taking money from Mom? He was a stranger. How could he possibly be working to pay for her way? That was impossible. She couldn't conceive of a stranger making this kind of sacrifice for her. It must be her mother. It absolutely must be.

She lay on the bed tossing and turning. Going over in her mind how her mother could have found out where Lucy was. How she could have gotten to Wyatt without her daughter knowing. Lucy had worked so hard for her independence, as shaky as it still was. Carol was going to take this away, too now? The long night a waste, she got up early to confront Wyatt about it all.

At 5am, Wyatt shuffled in the door. Yawning, he tried without much success to close the door quietly behind him. Lucy watched him from the couch in the living room. She was wrung out from wonder and worry. She watched him stagger with tiredness and her resolve to get things out in the open right now began to weaken. But then he caught sight of her.

"Lucy? What are you doing up?" He could barely stand, but she saw him try to shake it off and worry crossed his brow. "Is everything all right?"

She stood and moved closer to him. She lifted the stack of bills to where he could see them. The local utility company's logo emblazoned across an opened envelope. "I need to ask you about this."

Wyatt's alarmed look resolved into a more guarded expression. "And how did you get those?" He rubbed his eyes with one hand and gave her a fatigue-bleary version of his cocky grin. "You do know it's a federal crime to tamper with the mail, right?"

She'd been wavering. Not quite sure how to approach things. But his quip tipped her from embarrassment and insecurity right into fury. "Wyatt, what the hell is going on?! You told me we'd gotten a break on the rent. But here I find that you've been paying all the bills for months? When were you going to tell me?" She stalked over to him. The dark shadows under his eyes fed the guilt that had been eating her all night. In the backwards mood she'd slipped into, this made her all the more angry at him. Tapping his chest with the papers, she went on. "When did she talk to you? How did she know how to contact you? How much do I owe her now?"

Wyatt's heart-melting smile disappeared, replaced with utter confusion. Irrationally, this made Lucy angrier.

"Don't deny it!" Lucy's voice shook and she felt her tenuous grip on her emotions take another wide gyre out of her conscious control. "It's just like her, trying to control my life! How could you?" She waved the bills under his nose.

Wyatt put up his hands. "Lucy, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"My mother," Lucy spat out. "She's been sending you money hasn't she? For me?"

A look of understanding washed over Wyatt's features. He shook his head slightly, then lowered one of his hands to intercept Lucy's. His warm, strong hand gently encircled her wrist. He plucked the bills out of her hand. "No. I've never spoken to your mother. Ever."

Lucy's heart was racing. The warmth of his hand on her skin was grounding, but her emotions were far beyond being soothed. Shee shook her head in disbelief. He saw the fear in her eyes. Wyatt released her wrist, and placed his hand comfortingly on her shoulder.

"Honestly, Lucy. I know. I'm a huge idiot. I should have told you the truth."

She nodded to him, bracing herself for it. Trying so hard to ignore the heat of his hand.

Wyatt went on, "But you were so adamant about little things like pizza and take out. I knew you were having a hard time and I just couldn't figure out how to convince you that I really wanted to help." He place the back of his other hand on her other shoulder and looked straight into her eyes. "I know what it's like to not have enough to make ends meet. But I knew you didn't want help from me."

"So you called my mom?" Lucy held stubbornly to the scenario her imagination had painted for her.

He rolled his eyes. "No! I swear, I've never met your mother, or talked to her, or anything. I know you're..trying to get away from her for some reason." He tightened his hands on her shoulders and looked squarely into her eyes. "I get that. Really. I just wanted to help."

Lucy looked back at Wyatt. She thought about what she'd said, the panicked thoughts that had hounded her through the night. And felt the desperate weariness she'd been holding off with anger sweep through her. What am I saying? She put a hand to her forehead.

"I'm so sorry, Wyatt. I don't know what I was thinking." She gave a deep sigh and suddenly felt unsteady on her feet. She felt Wyatt's hands steering her back to the couch.

Sitting beside her, he said quietly. "Don't worry about it."

Lucy covered her face with shaking hands. The feelings of fear and anger slipped away and the undertow of emotion left her feeling drained and embarrassed. When she put her hands down, she looked at him nervously, expecting anger, frustration, impatience. He looked back at her with a sympathetic smile, and sleepy eyes.

"Wyatt, you should get to sleep."

He shrugged. A gleam entered his eyes. "Seems like I'll miss the house meeting if I do."

Lucy smiled. "What say we table this. Go to bed, Wyatt."

"Yes, ma'am."