No red truck.
No Myers.
Exhaustion settled deep in my bones. The kind that made me want to sleep for days. For a second, the idea of getting a room nearby almost won. Just sleep. Just stop.
But the kids needed me.
And after missing my visit with Lacey, I needed to see them too. Even if it meant driving another hour. So I drove to Amanda’s.
By the time I pulled into the driveway, it was pitch black. Only the narrow path to the back door was lit, small solar lights glowing softly.
The night smelled like the nearby ocean. It helped get the booze and urine stench out of my nose.
I had almost walked all the way up to the back door when my steps slowed. I looked through the large windows and saw Brian sitting at the dinner table.
When did Brian get here?
The kids were there too. With Amanda. All of them gathered around the dining table. Amanda rushed into the kitchen, grabbing a steaming bowl of something. I couldn’t make out what it was.
There they were, sitting together like a family.
Lila and Ethan looked completely content, leaning toward each other. Dylan didn’t smile as much, but he looked a hell of a lot better than he had in weeks.
The kids had missed Amanda. And Brian had missed her too. She had been a part of this family for so long. Her absence was a great loss to us.
I was about to knock but froze.
Was I even welcome here? Somehow, it seemed like I was the person connecting them to Lacey. Like I would drag murder and grief into a peaceful house.
So I stayed where I was. Watching. Maybe a minute. Maybe five. Ten. I didn’t know.
Then Dylan pulled out his phone. Fingers moving across the screen.
A moment later, my cell vibrated.
A text. From Dylan.
Where are you? Is everything all right?
I typed back.
Yes. Everything is fine. Just busy.
The dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.
Did you see Mom? She doing okay?
I’d never lied like this before. But that was before I had grandkids asking about their dying mother in jail.
Yes. She’s looking good. She even smiled at me.
Even from here, I could see the smile on Dylan’s face.
I’ll stay the night at the house,I texted.Too tired to drive back to get you. Is that okay?
Yeah, sure,he wrote back.Love you.
He slipped the phone into his pocket and turned back to the table.
