I didn’t want to seem pathetic, but couldn’t stop my relieved nod that wouldn’t end.
Once delivered, Kristen ate her dinner in silence, giving me time to grapple with her revelation.
Back in the car, the drive was rather short. Short enough to tell me Kristen had taken me to dinner not for her, but for me. I needed as much time as possible to adjust to this life shift that was consuming me.
Parking her car in a dirt driveway, I didn’t even know how to look up and see where I was now. Where I was now supposed to live… without Noma.
“I swear I did right by you, Johnny,” Kristen promised.
It’s amazing the shifts that transpire during such times. One second, I felt like a man, ready to battle anyone in my way. The next, a terrified child.
Staring at my backpack, again, I was nodding, over and over, gripping the straps so tight. I think I was trying to believe in all that Noma had instilled in me. To grasp on to her hope and promise and find the strength to get out of the car. I was trying to deal with conflicting emotions that threatened to overwhelm and suffocate me. But I couldn’t sit here forever. I didn’t have that luxury.
Once I slid out of the car, Kristen grabbed my suitcase from the trunk and headed toward the front of a house. It loomed in the darkness like a giant creature with wings held close to its body, watching, vigilant, almost as if it guarded the inhabitants. Only two windows held light on the second floor, and the amber glow added to the feeling that this beast never slept since the eyes remained open. A porch light flicked on as Kristen approached the door.
Knowing it was time to follow her lead, I swung my backpack over my shoulders and grabbed the duffel bag, all along battling anger, resentment, and frustration with every movement and step. By the time my feet reached the door, they felt heavier than lead.
Kristen lifted her hand and knocked, skipping the doorbell. At this hour, I guessed she didn’t want to wake everyone inside. I wasn’t sure who would open the door, but I blinked at the man who appeared, looking around the same age my father would have been.
Where my pops wore leather, boots, his cut, and a skully, this man wore khaki pants, dress shoes, a button-down shirt, and a sweater vest. My father had numerous tattoos. This man had zero. Where my father had grown out his hair, the man before me was going bald with a cut that kept his hair cropped close to his head. Different eye color. Different features.
They were nothing alike.
Somehow, that made it easier.
“Hello, Johnny. I’m Dale Weathers. Come on in.”
The door swung wide and I stepped inside as I clutched the duffel bag strap tighter, already feeling like the walls and the night were closing in, suffocating me.
Kristen set my suitcase beside me. “Thanks, Dale. I’ll be back tomorrow at three.”
Dale seemed to understand what that meant without asking additional questions. “We’ll be ready.”
We, not me. Weird.
I didn’t dwell on it.
Kristen lifted her hand to touch my shoulder, thought better of it, and dropped it. “I’m so sorry for the circumstances, but glad to have finally met you.” She handed me a card. “As you saw, I’m always on call for my kids.”
My jaw ticked. I was nobody’s kid but Noma’s, yet felt a ping of relief that she was in my corner.
Seemingly not surprised that I didn’t respond, she softly said, “Get some rest.”
Again, I didn’t reply as she left, closing the door behind her and sealing my fate inside my new foster house. It felt like a betrayal, which was ridiculous. I just met her.
Dale cleared his throat. “You’ve got your own room. I had one left. It’s a little different since most everyone else shares, but I think you’ll like it.”
I gave him a nod, snatching my suitcase as he went to grab it, and followed him up a set of stairs. We passed through a long hallway with multiple doors on both sides, all closed except for one. Dale pointed at it. “There’s a bathroom.”
Then we made it to another set of stairs. They were enclosed and led up to a third floor. There, we entered an old attic. Most of the junk was piled off to one side, stacked neatly with boxes on the left side of the stairs.
The half on the right had been turned into a bedroom. Privacy screens blocked three-quarters of the space until we walked around them. I found a bed with clean sheets and a thick blanket folded on top, a tall dresser, a desk with a chair, and a nightstand. There were two bright lamps in the room, which gave plenty of light for studying, and a ceiling fan centered above the bed.
“This is yours for however long you’re here. I’ll let you get settled in. Need any help?”
I looked down at the duffle bag in my hand, then my very first words to this man were, “Do you have a freezer?”
He blinked, probably not expecting the question. Or scared the new kid was into storing bodies… “Uh, actually, we do. A big one in the garage.”
