Page 9 of A Simple Regret

It’s pushing one o’clock when a knock sounds at my front door. I’ve been home for about ten minutes, just long enough to grab a quick bite to eat before I head out to my garage and finish up Wyatt’s truck.

I head for the door, not sure who it could be. My family and close friends know my code to the back door and just enter when they arrive, so there’s no reason they’d be knocking at the front. Of course, it could be a Girl Scout selling cookies, in which case I’ll be forking over some cash. It has nothing to do with the fact I can tear up some Thin Mints and Peanut Butter Patties. It’s all about supporting the kids, right?

When I open the door, I hide my surprise at seeing Adam Holm, Maren’s dad, standing on my porch. “Hi, Camden,” he says, offering a pleasant smile.

“Hey, Mr. Holm. How are you?” I ask, stepping back to allow him to enter.

He holds up his hands. “I have snow on my boots,” he states. “Sorry to just drop by like this, but I’m in a bind and was hoping you could give me a hand for a minute.”

“Okay, what’s up?” I ask.

I’ve always liked Adam Holm. Even after his wife and daughter left town not long after our high school graduation, I enjoyed visiting with him. He was hurt—like me—by his daughter’s sudden disappearing act in town, and while we’ve never outright talked about Maren over the years, I don’t think he’s had much communication with her.

“One of my coworkers, Leon, was going to help me carry some furniture into Maren’s house for her, but he twisted his knee leaving work earlier. I, uh, know it’s a big ask, but is there any way you’d be able to help me? For a few minutes?”

Help him carry Maren’s furniture into her house?

Yeah, that doesn’t exactly sound like a good time, but I’m not going to leave him to do it by himself. “Yeah, I can do that. Give me a minute to put my boots back on,” I tell him.

“Okay,” he replies, seeming to visibly relax at my agreement. “Appreciate it. I’ll meet you at Maren’s garage, if that’s all right.”

I nod in reply and wait until he steps off my stoop and walks back over to his daughter’s place. Once the door is secured, I take a few deep breaths and head to my kitchen, where I take a seat at one of the kitchen chairs and put my boots back on. Then, I grab my work coat and shove my arms in the sleeves before zipping it up and stepping outside.

The air is crisp and cold but the peeks of sunshine help warm my face. It hasn’t snowed in a few days, so everything is fairly cleared off. I walk across my driveway and find Adam standing just inside the small garage. I take a quick look around, my hands shoved into my pockets.

“Thanks for your help. Her couch and chair are in the trailer yet, so I’d like to get those inside. There are also two dressers in there that need to go, as well as a hope chest that’s loaded down with blankets. She said she can take those out though so it’s not so heavy.”

The memories flash in a rapid-fire sequence. The hope chest. The one we picked out together for her Christmas present our senior year. She wanted somewhere to store the things she was buying for her future—our future. There wasn’t a lot in there the last time I saw it, but I know we had found some kitchen gadgets, home décor, and some cheap towels that she packed away for later use.

She also kept a few blankets in there. Maren was always cold and had more blankets than any human could possibly use, so the fact she’s storing blankets in the hope chest now doesn’t surprise me in the least. In fact, it kinda makes me smile, just like the images I used to enjoy of her wrapped up on my bed in whatever blanket she could find inside my room.

“What about the boxes and stuff?” I ask, trying to draw my attention away from the onslaught of recollections.

“I don’t want to keep you. I’ll help her with those later this afternoon. I just appreciate the help you can give me with the big stuff. We already got the beds inside yesterday, as well as her kitchen table, TV, and some of Theo’s stuff.”

Theo.

Her son.

“Uhh,” I start, scratching my head and not really sure if I should just ask. But I decide to just get it out there. “Does she know I’m helping?”

He chuckles and turns his blue eyes on me. “Yeah, wasn’t that happy I was going to ask you.”

I don’t even stop my own smile. “I bet.”

“Told me she could do it,” he replies, shaking his head, “But I don’t want her hurting herself. We had some help getting all this stuff loaded, but⁠—”

He’s cut off by the opening of the back door. We both turn to see Maren standing there, looking way cuter than she has any right to look. Her long, blond hair is down, and she’s wearing a pink stocking cap on her head. Her legs are covered in light blue denim, and her feet are stuffed in snow boots. She’s also sporting a thick Carhartt winter coat that looks like it’s practically brand new. It actually reminds me of the old one she had in high school, the one I used to love peeling from her in the cab of my Chevy truck on a deserted country road.

“Hey, honey. We were just getting ready to start bringing some stuff in. Still want the dressers in first?” Adam asks.

Maren nods, her gaze locked on her dad. She doesn’t seem to want to make eye contact with me, not that I blame her. It’s awkward as hell. I know it, and so does she. Eventually though, she glances my way. “Thank you for helping.”

“No problem,” I respond. I’m doing this for Adam, not her. Well, and maybe Theo, her son. What I don’t understand is why her husband isn’t out here helping. It’s his shit we’re moving, right? So why did Adam come next door to ask for assistance? Why isn’t Theo’s dad here?

“Ready?”

Adam’s question rips my attention away from Maren and the many questions I have. “Yep.”