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The thick copse of trees near the end of town comes into view. “Dusty was born here like the rest of us. His dad opened the shop a buncha years ago, and Dusty took it over when Jack retired.” He turns down a side street and slows to a crawl as he weaves through the dense forest. “Far as I know, he never had any kids, and he never got married. Keeps to himself for the most part.” The winding road opens to a clearing with a small trailer in the center. Jace eases off the gas and touches the brake.
“Where are we?”
“You wanted to know everything. This is where he lives.”
A striped canopy hangs over a lone patio chair. The solitude is stifling. It hangs over the property like a rain cloud. He never got over her.
I pick at the hem of my shorts. “Is he a good man?” Once again, I’m reaching for something to grasp onto. Tell me he’s a drunk. A womanizer. An abuser. Anything to offer some kind of explanation for why she would hide me away and make up fiction about the no-name man who hooked up with her once and left her alone and pregnant.
I always do this. I cling to the good and ignore the bad. I did it with Jace, and now I’m doing it with her. It’s my fatal flaw.
But Jace just nods. “Yep. Least, nothin’ I ever heard comin’ down the rumor mill.” He swivels his head to face me. “Look, I dunno why your mom never told you, but I imagine she hadher reasons. I’m sorry she died before you found out what those reasons were.”
The razor-sharp pain in my heart throbs to a dull ache. “Thank you for being nice to me.”
A dry laugh blows through his nostrils. He starts to reply, but the crunch of tires grinds in from behind us. I turn toward the sound as another truck pulls in beside us.
I look up to catch Jace’s stare. “You knew he’d be coming home around this time, didn’t you?”
He pulls his lips in a thin line and shrugs. “You want answers, El. He’s the one to ask.”
Dusty steps from his truck and slams the door, looking in our direction. I flip my hair to one side, then the other before tucking it behind my ears. I reach for the handle, but my jittery muscles can’t pull hard enough. Jace leans over me and unlatches the door. I step out, ignoring the flutters in my stomach as I approach the father I just met.
“Hi, D-Dusty.” I fumble over my words. Am I supposed to call him Dad? I’m not sure I’m there yet, but it somehow feels wrong to address him by his first name.
His eyes crinkle in the corners when he smiles. “I’m glad you came.”
Jace’s footsteps echo behind me. Tears well behind my lids. The sudden release of tension lifting from my shoulders is unexpected. It left the minute I realized I wasn’t alone.
“Jace.” Dusty nods his chin in his direction.
“Sup, man?” He shoves his hands in his pockets, falling behind me. He isn’t here for a social call, and he doesn’t want to impede on my time. He’s merely letting me know he’s here for me.
“Do you wanna come inside?” Dusty asks.
“Okay.” I glance over my shoulder to see if Jace follows, my chest pulling tight when he does.
The inside of Dusty’s house is small and sparse. Three chairs sit around a square dining table shoved against a wall in the five-cabinet kitchen. In the living area, a single recliner faces a television with a TV tray beside the arm acting as an end table.
“I don’t usually have a lotta guests.” When he turns his head, I notice the small hearing device pushed into the well of his ear. Yet another symptom of our shared illness.
A polite smile tugs on my lips. I take a seat at the table, realizing too late that one of the kitchen chairs is wedged up against the fridge. I look at Jace as if asking his approval, but he’s already tucked in a corner like a fly on the wall.
“I’m not really sure why I’m here, to be honest,” I admit.
Dusty removes his hat and hangs it on a hook near the doorway, then runs his fingers through his neck-length hair. “I assume you have some questions for me.”
A million questions roll through my head so fast, I can’t slow them down to think of just one. But Dusty doesn’t wait for me to ask. He glides through the tiny space to what I can only assume is the bedroom, then returns with a box. “I kept a few things over the years. Feel free to look through it if you want.”
I stare down at it as if it’s Pandora's box of evil. What sort of demons will I find inside? Glancing at Jace, I summon the bravery I know I have inside and lift the lid. The smell of history wafts up. Photos and clippings, assorted trinkets, a lifetime of memories at the bottom of a five-by-five box.
Right at the top, a faded receipt yellowed with age. The faint logo of a jewelry store stretches across the top. I scan the purple lettering down to the $300 total at the bottom. I flip it over, and on the back is a single line of cursive I recognize as my mother’s handwriting.I’ll never let anybody put me in a cage. I’m sorry.
I wriggle my fingers, trying to feel the power my ring once held, but it’s gone. I thought it was a symbol of strength, but it’s only a broken promise. “Why didn’t you go after her?”
His chest rises with his deep inhale. “At first, I was too angry. After that, I guess I was just too heartbroken. Sarah’s dreams were too strong to be tethered. Nothing I could offer her would make her stay.”
A bound stack of photos catches my eye. I pluck them from the box and gently unwrap the rubber band holding them together. A younger version of my mother I never met. A stranger with my face smiling up at me, cheek to cheek with a smooth-faced version of Dusty. They look so happy, so in love, yet somehow, it all went wrong.
