Page 2 of The Scars We Heal

“We’re going to go on a road trip to see Grandma.” My voice pitched at the end of my sentence in an attempt to make the situation sound more exciting than it actually was.

Her brows pinched together, and her head dropped even closer to her shoulder. “We’re going to see Grandma?”

“Yep. We’re going to go stay with her for a little while in Montana.”

Adam hadn’t expressed any interest in having custody of Whitley. Despite my rocky relationship with his parents, I was hoping to find a place here in Washington so Whitley could be close to them, but taking her to Montana wasn’t off the table. When the divorce was still pending, she stayed with him some weekends, but he was out of town on business more often than not, so I was sure he took her to his mom’s place instead anyway. Adam’s mom may not have liked me, and made sure I knew it, but Whitley loved her.

Without any more curiosity, she started to stuff her toys into her tiny yellow backpack. I sighed as I folded our clothes, packing them away in our suitcases.

Perhaps there was a silver lining in all of this. Maybe moving back to Montana would bring solace and provide some closure on the situation. It’d be a new, fresh start, and one closer to my family for once.

Yeah, I thought to myself. This will be fine. Everything is fine.

Big, blue skies filled with fluffy white clouds kissed the sprawling horizon as we approached Silver Creek. The drive from Washington was long, but luckily Whitley slept most of the way so I didn’t have to handle a grumpy toddler on top of the self-deprecating thoughts my overactive brain kept throwing at me.

We packed the car as full as possible with things I was keeping in a storage unit, but I’d eventually have to make a trip back to Washington to get the rest.

However, I didn’t want to burden my mom with more stuff. Once we found a more permanent place, I could worry about the rest of our belongings. The rent wasn’t too expensive, and I didn’t plan to keep it for too much longer. For now, the storage unit would be fine.

As my childhood home—a big, cozy farmhouse—came into view, a rush of relief washed over me. I’d never been so grateful for familiarity. The first time I’d left home, I was so excited about my newfound independence that I was convinced I’d never want to go back. Over the past decade, though, a yearning for the place I grew up in started to resettle in my bones.

I pushed out a huff of air as I pulled into the driveway. I probably should have told my mom I was coming, but this wasn’t the first time I’d made an impromptu trip.

As if on cue, the front door swung open and Mom stepped out onto the porch.

“Caitlin, what a surprise!” Her arms spread as she approached the car, immediately pulling me into an embrace the moment I stepped out. “What are you doing here?”

“Well…” I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth. “I was hoping Whit and I could stay for a while? Adam canceled my credit cards, and I haven’t really been able to work the past few months. Childcare for Whitley is ungodly expensive. My bank account is pretty sad right now.” My cheeks flushed at the admission.

Guilt threatened to surface, but my thought process was that if Whitley and I could stay with family, I’d be okay for the next couple months while I tried to find a job.

Mom clicked her tongue a few times before muttering, “That asshole. Pardon my French.”

A soft chuckle slipped out of my mouth in response.

Mom smoothed her hands over her pants then sighed. “You’re welcome to take a look around, but your room is…” Her voice trailed off. “Well, your room is a craft room now. Clay’s is an office, and Colter’s I’ve been using for storage. There’s that small bedroom Whitley has stayed in before, but I don’t know if I have one for you. There’s the couch or maybe I can get an air mattress...” A somewhat guilty expression flashed across her face. “I guess I just assumed you kids have been out of the house for a while now. Colter has his own patch of land, Clay is settled in Bozeman and they usually stay at the motel when they visit, and you…”

I hardly ever visit. My brain filled in the blanks for her.

“I understand. It’s o-okay.” Tears stung my eyes, but I blinked them back. “I’m sure we can figure something out.”

“If money’s the issue—” she started, but I quickly cut her off.

“No, Mom, I don’t want to take your money.”

It was hard enough to ask to take up a room in her house. The last thing I wanted to do was be a financial burden for her.

“Well, all right… I’m really sorry. Maybe Colter and Ellison can help you come up with something? I know the baby is coming soon, so they probably won’t have room, but they have plenty of friends who might. Or I can always help. Just keep me in the loop, okay?” She shifted on her feet. “Do you want to come in?”

I shook my head. “I shouldn’t.”

Her face fell, a hairline crack in her usually composed demeanor. “Are you sure you don’t want to come in and rest your legs? Have a glass of iced tea? It’s a long drive from Washington. Maybe I could make you two some dinner?” She looked into the backseat window and waved at my daughter, who beamed at the sight of her.

I bit my bottom lip. “If Whitley could use your bathroom, I would appreciate that, but we can’t hang around for too long. My priority is finding somewhere to stay so she can sleep in a real bed tonight. Once we do, though, I’ll come over. Promise.”

“Okay, sweetheart.”

I coaxed Whitley out of her car seat.