Page 5 of Bone Collector’s Mate

Chapter Four

Rook

I stayed. After arriving in town that rainy night, I had a chance to catch my breath and really assess what we’d left behind, and it was not much. As long as we lived with Adam, we would be spiraling into his world of making all the rules, taking all the benefits, and being worthy of none of it.

The motel had one room left, and I carried Benji in and tucked him into bed then unloaded what I gauged we’d need in the morning and tumbled into the comfiest bed I’d had the pleasure of sleeping in ever. When we pulled up, I had my doubts. It looked a little spooky on the outside, but it was late and I had been driving for a long time. But the grandmotherly woman, Orly, who checked us in, asked if we’d had dinner, and I assured her we had, but she still sent some cookies with us to the room in case we got hungry. She remembered me from when I was very small and was sad to hear my parents had died.

My son curled up in one of the beds with his glasses on the nightstand, felt like home. It was the one thing he could not ever be without. We’d learned when he was not even walking that he had very poor vision. Adam scoffed, insisting that a baby didn’t need to read, so why should they require glasses? We could revisit this when he was ready to start school.

For the first and almost only time in our relationship, I dug in my heels. I pressed to have Benji tested because I knew something was wrong, and the ophthalmologist confirmed it. He might not be reading yet, but he was damned well going to have a clear view of the world. He’d been so adorable in the wraparound glasses, and the improvement was instantaneous. He gained confidence in walking and feeding himself, just about everything.

I should have left then.

But I hadn’t, and I couldn’t go back in time, only forward. It did feel good to be in this place where I had been born, even if I was too young when I left to have many solid memories. Could it be my home again? Or should I go back to the city where I had taken a leave of absence from my job and pick up my life again, without Adam.

Because going back to him was not a thing. I fell asleep trying to sort through all the decisions to be made. I’d left without much planning or many belongings. Just a text to my boss and out the door. Not even a note for Adam. He didn’t deserve it.

The next morning, I woke up determined to try to make a go of it here. It was far enough away from Adam, and I didn’t think I’d ever mentioned Whisper Grove to him. On the off chance he actually did decide to try to get us back, he wouldn’t think to come here. It was hardly a dot on the map, and I’d never heard anyone talk about it since leaving.

My memories were faint but pleasant. If it didn’t work out, I’d just move on. Benji still lay asleep in the other bed, so I got up and went into the bathroom to shower and get ready for the day. It helped to be clean and rested. I’d expected to sleep badly, but the comfortable bed and the quiet of the small town outside the window must have had a magical effect. I didn’t know why we moved away when I was about Benji’s age, but with everything that happened since, I wished we hadn’t.

And it was too late to ask my parents.

And not the right time to dwell on things in the past I had no control over. For the first time in a long time, I’d seized my destiny, and even if it took every ounce of my determination and courage, I would continue on.

As I came out of the bathroom, dressed for the day in jeans and a polo shirt, I found my son, glasses on, standing in the open doorway and chattering away with Orly, the landlady. She held a tray with a basket of muffins, a coffee carafe, a cup of milk, and other breakfasty things.

“Good morning.” I started for where they stood. “Let me take that from you.”

“Look, the nice grandma lady brought us chocolate-chip muffins, Papa,” Benji said. “But she says I have to drink my milk if I have sweet breakfast.”

“Mrs. Orly is right.” I took the tray and stepped back. “Thank you so much for thinking of us.”

“I’m hungry.” Benji’s forehead wrinkled. He wasn’t much for tantrums, but he did have a hangry side that came out from time to time.

“Looks like you came just in time.” I set the tray down and settled Benji with a muffin and milk. “Papa needs to speak with Mrs. Orly for a minute. I’ll be right back.”

He bobbed his head, mouth full of muffin, so I stepped outside and closed the door most of the way. I could still see him, but he didn’t need to hear everything I was about to say. He would need to know our plans, but I preferred not to get into details until they were settled. Ifs and maybes were not going to be helpful, especially when he was making big changes, and not of his choice.

I hadn’t thought about it in a long time, but when we moved away from here, it was very hard on little me. And if anyone explained anything at all, I didn’t remember it. I wanted Benji to feel like his papa had a plan that would give us both a secure, happy life.

“Thank you so much for the food,” I said, but Orly held up a hand, knuckles a little swollen from the beginnings of arthritis or maybe rheumatism. Something old-age related.

“You already said that. My grandchildren don’t live close, and I only get to bake for them when I visit, so it was a pleasure. Now, if it’s not being too nosy, what else can I do to help you get settled here?”

“You can tell we’re not just passing through?”

“Rook, you can’t fool an old granny. Something bad happened, and I won’t ask what because it’s not my business, but it sent you running home. Now, what do you need? If you are short money, don’t pay for the room until you’re working.”

Was it like this when I lived here before? If Orly knew why my family moved, would she tell me? Maybe. But now wasn’t the time to ask. I had a long list of things to do if Benji and I were going to have the security we both needed.

“I have enough for a bit, but I need to find somewhere to rent if you think anyone will be willing to do that before I’m even working. I’ll be job hunting shortly, but Benji needs me for now.”

“That’s right. You put that child first. I will put out feelers and see what’s available. Before you know it, you’ll be all settled in and cozy. Some people say this town is full of strange sorts, but we have each other’s backs and we don’t judge. Give me a day or two.”

That afternoon, I signed a month-to-month rental agreement for a neat little two-bedroom cottage outside of town. Furnished. Thank heavens because not having to buy those things would make my money stretch further. I drew my first deep breath in days, and Benji ran from room to room, happier than I had any right to hope for.

Whisper Grove had been my first home, and, at least for a while, it was my home again.