“Old man smelled like a dumpster. The whole house did. He's even more feral than I expected.”
Her eyes drift back to the house for a second.
“I'll never forget the day I saw those bruises. Or the split lip. And the burns.”
I comfort her with a hug.
“Selfish wanker buggered off to the pub as soon as he realised he'd lost that war.”
“Of course he did,” Beth scoffs. “Amos, if you ever do hear from Louise…”
“We'll call you.”
I give her hand a squeeze.
“I’ll help however I can. She’s only a couple of hours drive from here.”
“Thank you. It broke him to leave her there again.”
She releases a heavy breath, then lightens the topic as Marco returns.
“And don’t be strangers. You're welcome here anytime, both of you.”
She says it as though we live down the street.
And I kind of wish we did.
“Yeah, but next time we're flying,” he says, bounding down the stairs.
“Two hour flight beats a week of driving,” she grins.
Turning toward him, she cradles him in her arms.
“Love you, kiddo.”
“Love you too.”
“You look happier,” she says. “And in love.”
“I am.” Marco smiles at me coyly. “Very.”
He draws a circle in the gravel with the toe of his shoe.
“Wish I'd had the balls to drive out here sooner. I'm sorry, I just…”
“I understand, sweetheart. Too many memories.”
“Yeah.”
“But I'd love to see that cheeky face of yours more often.”
“Good luck keeping us away,” I smile.
???
He’s stolen my hoodie, claiming it as his pillow.
“I like the way it smells,” he whispers. “It's ayousmell.”
