“Take it. For once.”
I don’t argue.
I end the call and sit on the porchstepwith the phone in my lap and let the wordsdo what they want.
I’mproud of you, brother.
A year ago, I would have rejectedHenry’s wordsandthrown the phone in the snow. A month ago, Iwould’ve flinched.This morning, my hands aresteady.This morning,I let thembetrue.That’sTess, mostly. I came up here as a favor to Henry and to disappear. I think, instead,I’mstarting to come back.
Tess opens the door behind me.
Shedoesn’tsay anything. She sits down beside me on the porch stepwith a mug oftea for each of us because, apparently,I’m a man who drinks tea now.
She tucks herself under my arm as if she fits there, which she does. Her hair smells likemy soap. Her bare foot finds mine on the cold board and stays there.She'ssmall enough that the flannel comes down to her thighs. The cuff is rolled three times on the wrist of the hand holding the mug. I want to pick her up and put her on my lap. But I don’t. Not yet.
“How’d it go?” she asks after a while.
“Hetold us to come home.”
She makes a small sound against my shoulder.“Good.”
We drink our tea. A hawk calls its mate as it flies overhead. I don’t react, not like before. Now I have my woman under my arm, and the hawk is just a hawk.
“Tess?”
“Mm?”
“Are you okay?With leaving?”
The pause is long. I let her have it. The thingI'velearned about Tess Carter is that her best answers come whennobody'shurrying her.
She holds her mug in both hands.“It was Aunt Rosa’s cabin.”
“I know. That’s why I asked.”
She breathes outslowly.“Aunt Rosa wrote in her letter that this place was a comfort to her when she had no one. That she hoped it would be the same for me.”
She turns her head against my arm so I can feel her voice in my ribs.“Itdid, Sullivan. Fromthemoment I parked the truck. Itwas the first thing in my life that asked me to be the person I am, instead of the smaller version my familywanted.”
I tighten my arm. I can't help it. She fits closer.
“Ifixedthings,” she says.“Knockedon doors.Madefriends. Thena treedropped on it in a stormand put me on a man's couch, and that turned out to be the best thingthat ever happened to me.”
“Tess.”
“Let me finish.”
Shethreadsher fingers through mine.Her hand is small. Mine swallows it. The plain fact of her hand in my hand still does something to the back of my neckI'mnot used to.I'mnot sureI'lleverbeused to it.I'mnotsureI want to be.
“I would like, very much, for it to do that job for someone else.”
I look at her. She looks at me.
“I don’t want to sell it,”she says.“Idon’twant to lock it up and let it rot. I want to fix the rest of it and rent it to someone who needs it the way I needed it. Someonerunning, maybe. Someonehiding. Someone with no one.”She looks up at me. Her eyes are wet but steady.“I want them to find what I found here.Is that okay?”
“That’s more than okay.”
“You’ll help me?”
