In This Life
Page 32
Emma scrunched up her face in the same way Sofia Fetucci had. “I don’t know.”
I swallowed. “It wasn’t today, was it?”
She looked at me as if I’d just asked the most ridiculous question ever. “No. It was the day I came here and made red hearts.”
“Valentine’s Day?” I asked and Emma shrugged.
I sighed, understanding now what she meant. Valentine’s Day had been a Saturday and a new client, a custom furniture maker who lived up in the mountains, had begged for some emergency help because his ex-wife had sabotaged all his files. Heather offered to watch Emma and keep her overnight if I was too tired to pick her up. I’d accepted gratefully, though I felt a little guilty because my cousin had only given birth three weeks earlier. Heather had set up an assortment of paper crafts on the kitchen table and promised Emma they would have a special day. She was holding Colin when I turned back to see her waving at me from the kitchen window. I waved back and then faced the drive up to the mountains on a bitterly cold morning.
“Where are they?” Emma asked in a hushed voice and I saw she was staring at a photo of Chris and Heather on their wedding day.
I thought I’d cried all my tears for them already but no, I still had more. I tried to blink them away so Emma wouldn’t see and get upset. “They’re gone, baby.”
Emma considered the answer. Heather and Chris had been important to her too. Hopefully she would keep some memories of them and be able to tell Colin someday.
“I wish they weren’t gone,” she said and her lower lip trembled.
I set the teacups down and opened my arms to her. I stroked her hair, soft and dark brown, remembering how I’d once stroked hair just like it while a man I cared about cried on my lap and begged me to tell him when his agony would end. Emma would never know him. But I remembered him every time our daughter looked at me with his solemn eyes.
Emma’s sad mood didn’t last long. Roxie trotted over to kiss her face and she started giggling. Colin awoke from his nap and I sat holding him in the backyard while Emma played in the grass with Roxie. Nash’s dog always impressed me. Despite her size she was astonishingly gentle and enchanted by any attention Emma was willing to give her.
The afternoon passed quickly with no more troubling shadows. It was rare for me to take a complete day off but while sitting outside, listening to my daughter’s laughter and Colin’s happy squeals, I decided to take a break from whatever work awaited on my laptop. It would still be there tomorrow.
After an early dinner and quick baths we settled down in the living room to watch Beauty and the Beast. Colin nodded off on my shoulder and Emma let out a sleepy yawn as she rested her head against my arm. I thought about what a sweet moment this was. The only thing that would make it more perfect was if Nash was here to share it.
Now that I was thinking of Nash, I checked the time and figured out he must be in Oregon, probably on his way to that coastal town where he used to live. I spied my phone on an end table three feet to my left and reached for it while trying not to disturb the baby. Nash deserved to see this calm, happy scene just in case he was worrying about Colin. I would snap a quick photo and send it to him.
About two seconds after the photo finished sending to Nash a call came in. It wasn’t Nash.
“Where are you?” my mother demanded to know.
“I’m watching Colin for the weekend so Emma and I are staying at Nash’s house. I told you this the other day.”
“And where did that Nash character go?”
I sighed. “He had to go to Oregon and pick up the rest of his stuff. Mom, I already told you that too.”
She made a few more passive aggressive comments that I chose to ignore and then cryptically stated she needed to talk to me about something.
“Can it wait?” I asked, shifting Colin around because my shoulder was getting numb.
“Fine,” she huffed. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Give my baby girl a kiss from Grandma.”
“Good night, Mom,” I said, barely even curious about what kind of dire subject she needed to discuss. My mother meant well but she had a flair for drama. Perhaps she was feuding with the public library staff again over late fees.
I’d been planning to go to sleep early for once instead of burning the midnight oil. But once Emma and Colin were tucked away in bed I found that I was not even slightly tired so I wandered around the house.
The old house had a different feeling after the sun went down. The wooden floors creaked under my weight and every corner was thick with shadows. Old buildings possessed a certain kind of heaviness, as if burdened by the weight of all the human experiences lived within their silent walls.
I paused in front of a closed door. Nash always kept it closed. I expected when I opened it I’d find the room in exactly the same condition it had been in when its former occupants slept within. I was right.
Everywhere I looked there were signs of life interrupted. A woman’s pink sandal that had been dropped near the closet. A half empty bottle of water on a bedside table. And pictures, so many pictures. Pictures of the two of them, and far more pictures of Colin as if they’d been anxious to seize every moment of the painfully short time they’d been a family.
My throat felt thick with unshed tears.
I understood why Nash avoided this room, why he’d taken no steps to sort through any of its possessions.
I backed out and closed the door with a sigh and headed downstairs.
Nash’s dog was already curled up in her comfortable bed in the corner. She raised her head when I appeared and then lowered it when she saw I was alone.
My phone was still on the end table and when I looked at it I saw Nash had texted while I was roaming around upstairs.
Got the truck all packed. Will sleep for a few hours then will hit the road. Expecting twenty hours of driving. Thanks for the picture.
The words were informative and unsentimental. Somehow that bothered me. I shouldn’t expect more and I was pissed at myself for feeling any frustration. Nash and I had a clear understanding. There were no requirements except mutual friendship, respect, and mind-blowing sex.
“Nothing complicated about that,” I muttered, opting not to return the text since he mentioned he planned to get a few hours of sleep. I noted the time was a quarter to nine. Assuming he’d sleep for three or four hours and depart by one a.m., he’d be here around this time tomorrow if he drove straight through.
An ominous low growl sent sudden chills up my spine. Roxie had bolted from her sleepy corner and was now prowling beneath the living room window, teeth bared, hair visibly standing on end. Despite Nash’s claim that the German Shepherd was a good watchdog I’d never seen her react like this before.
“You hear something, girl?” I whispered, switching off the table lamp before approaching the window.
I pushed aside the eyelet curtains and saw nothing except the yellow glow of the old fashioned street lamp shining on my car where I’d parked it beside the curb. The porch lights of the house across the street were on but I saw no one there nor was there anyone passing in the street. A gust of wind rattled the high branches of the box elder tree in the front yard but there was no other movement.
“Must have just been a cat,” I assured the dog, patting her head. Roxie looked at me with doubt.
I double checked the front door lock while Roxie paced back and forth. Another growl rolled out of her throat and she bounded toward the kitchen. I found her staring at the side door and the noise escalated from a growl to a sharp bark.
I swallowed. “It wasn’t today, was it?”
She looked at me as if I’d just asked the most ridiculous question ever. “No. It was the day I came here and made red hearts.”
“Valentine’s Day?” I asked and Emma shrugged.
I sighed, understanding now what she meant. Valentine’s Day had been a Saturday and a new client, a custom furniture maker who lived up in the mountains, had begged for some emergency help because his ex-wife had sabotaged all his files. Heather offered to watch Emma and keep her overnight if I was too tired to pick her up. I’d accepted gratefully, though I felt a little guilty because my cousin had only given birth three weeks earlier. Heather had set up an assortment of paper crafts on the kitchen table and promised Emma they would have a special day. She was holding Colin when I turned back to see her waving at me from the kitchen window. I waved back and then faced the drive up to the mountains on a bitterly cold morning.
“Where are they?” Emma asked in a hushed voice and I saw she was staring at a photo of Chris and Heather on their wedding day.
I thought I’d cried all my tears for them already but no, I still had more. I tried to blink them away so Emma wouldn’t see and get upset. “They’re gone, baby.”
Emma considered the answer. Heather and Chris had been important to her too. Hopefully she would keep some memories of them and be able to tell Colin someday.
“I wish they weren’t gone,” she said and her lower lip trembled.
I set the teacups down and opened my arms to her. I stroked her hair, soft and dark brown, remembering how I’d once stroked hair just like it while a man I cared about cried on my lap and begged me to tell him when his agony would end. Emma would never know him. But I remembered him every time our daughter looked at me with his solemn eyes.
Emma’s sad mood didn’t last long. Roxie trotted over to kiss her face and she started giggling. Colin awoke from his nap and I sat holding him in the backyard while Emma played in the grass with Roxie. Nash’s dog always impressed me. Despite her size she was astonishingly gentle and enchanted by any attention Emma was willing to give her.
The afternoon passed quickly with no more troubling shadows. It was rare for me to take a complete day off but while sitting outside, listening to my daughter’s laughter and Colin’s happy squeals, I decided to take a break from whatever work awaited on my laptop. It would still be there tomorrow.
After an early dinner and quick baths we settled down in the living room to watch Beauty and the Beast. Colin nodded off on my shoulder and Emma let out a sleepy yawn as she rested her head against my arm. I thought about what a sweet moment this was. The only thing that would make it more perfect was if Nash was here to share it.
Now that I was thinking of Nash, I checked the time and figured out he must be in Oregon, probably on his way to that coastal town where he used to live. I spied my phone on an end table three feet to my left and reached for it while trying not to disturb the baby. Nash deserved to see this calm, happy scene just in case he was worrying about Colin. I would snap a quick photo and send it to him.
About two seconds after the photo finished sending to Nash a call came in. It wasn’t Nash.
“Where are you?” my mother demanded to know.
“I’m watching Colin for the weekend so Emma and I are staying at Nash’s house. I told you this the other day.”
“And where did that Nash character go?”
I sighed. “He had to go to Oregon and pick up the rest of his stuff. Mom, I already told you that too.”
She made a few more passive aggressive comments that I chose to ignore and then cryptically stated she needed to talk to me about something.
“Can it wait?” I asked, shifting Colin around because my shoulder was getting numb.
“Fine,” she huffed. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Give my baby girl a kiss from Grandma.”
“Good night, Mom,” I said, barely even curious about what kind of dire subject she needed to discuss. My mother meant well but she had a flair for drama. Perhaps she was feuding with the public library staff again over late fees.
I’d been planning to go to sleep early for once instead of burning the midnight oil. But once Emma and Colin were tucked away in bed I found that I was not even slightly tired so I wandered around the house.
The old house had a different feeling after the sun went down. The wooden floors creaked under my weight and every corner was thick with shadows. Old buildings possessed a certain kind of heaviness, as if burdened by the weight of all the human experiences lived within their silent walls.
I paused in front of a closed door. Nash always kept it closed. I expected when I opened it I’d find the room in exactly the same condition it had been in when its former occupants slept within. I was right.
Everywhere I looked there were signs of life interrupted. A woman’s pink sandal that had been dropped near the closet. A half empty bottle of water on a bedside table. And pictures, so many pictures. Pictures of the two of them, and far more pictures of Colin as if they’d been anxious to seize every moment of the painfully short time they’d been a family.
My throat felt thick with unshed tears.
I understood why Nash avoided this room, why he’d taken no steps to sort through any of its possessions.
I backed out and closed the door with a sigh and headed downstairs.
Nash’s dog was already curled up in her comfortable bed in the corner. She raised her head when I appeared and then lowered it when she saw I was alone.
My phone was still on the end table and when I looked at it I saw Nash had texted while I was roaming around upstairs.
Got the truck all packed. Will sleep for a few hours then will hit the road. Expecting twenty hours of driving. Thanks for the picture.
The words were informative and unsentimental. Somehow that bothered me. I shouldn’t expect more and I was pissed at myself for feeling any frustration. Nash and I had a clear understanding. There were no requirements except mutual friendship, respect, and mind-blowing sex.
“Nothing complicated about that,” I muttered, opting not to return the text since he mentioned he planned to get a few hours of sleep. I noted the time was a quarter to nine. Assuming he’d sleep for three or four hours and depart by one a.m., he’d be here around this time tomorrow if he drove straight through.
An ominous low growl sent sudden chills up my spine. Roxie had bolted from her sleepy corner and was now prowling beneath the living room window, teeth bared, hair visibly standing on end. Despite Nash’s claim that the German Shepherd was a good watchdog I’d never seen her react like this before.
“You hear something, girl?” I whispered, switching off the table lamp before approaching the window.
I pushed aside the eyelet curtains and saw nothing except the yellow glow of the old fashioned street lamp shining on my car where I’d parked it beside the curb. The porch lights of the house across the street were on but I saw no one there nor was there anyone passing in the street. A gust of wind rattled the high branches of the box elder tree in the front yard but there was no other movement.
“Must have just been a cat,” I assured the dog, patting her head. Roxie looked at me with doubt.
I double checked the front door lock while Roxie paced back and forth. Another growl rolled out of her throat and she bounded toward the kitchen. I found her staring at the side door and the noise escalated from a growl to a sharp bark.
