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But when the screaming started that last night and she saw his eyes—blood red—she’d taken him with her. Maybe it had been atonement, a deep dwelling plea to God for forgiveness for what she had done to her sister—and Gregory.
No, no. Leave it there.
Setting her coffee down, Valerie slipped her feet into the sandals she kept on the front porch. She walked down the steps, pulling her flannel shirt tighter around herself. The air held a chill in the morning, and fall was approaching.
She walked down the gravel road that circled the trailer park until she arrived at the entrance, where the mailboxes stood in a row. She was hoping the movement would make her manic mind stop spinning back to the past like a broken game of spin the bottle. The world and her mind quieted as she flipped through their mail. Coupons, PTA meeting paperwork, and an advertisement from a local church were all she found.
And in the quiet, with nothing more than the gentle rustling of paperwork, Valerie felt a strange warmth wash over her …
And then came a chill …
The hair on her arms stood tall.
She straightened her back and turned slowly, quick enough to see a flash of red in the woods behind the trailers, but not quick enough to see anything more.
* * *
Though he’d been groggy—and protested—when she woke him up, Valerie convinced Nicholas to join her at the café for breakfast. She was working a quick shift with the other cook that Saturday morning, and the flash she’d seen in the woods while checking the mail left her reluctant to leave him behind.
He closed his eyes when he got into her car, leaning into the headrest, sleeping in the front seat, though the drive to the café lasted only a few minutes.
She spoke low when she pulled behind the café to park. “Do you think you want to get a part-time job?” she asked.
Nicholas opened his eyes, looking around. He looked disoriented for a moment, then recovered, remembering where he was. “Why? Do I need to? I thought this was—”
“It is. It is,” she’d said. The words unspoken between them.
This is different.
This is a new start.
Tabula Rasa.
He’d held odd jobs while they traveled. Hanging out in a car or a motel after school wasn’t exactly exciting. Nicholas often waited tables while Valerie worked in the kitchen. They never said they were related. And that was the truth. But they also never said they were masquerading as aunt and nephew.
Nicholas unbuckled his seat belt, stretching. “I want to focus on school. I’m thinking about joining a club, or … I dunno … a sport or something.”
Valerie turned to him. “Really?” Nicholas didn’t have an athletic build. He was tall and slender, had an artist’s hands.
“Yeah. Maybe Art Club, or … they have a writing club at the school too.”
That fit him. The sport comment had thrown her, but maybe he just threw it out to see her reaction.
“You should. We want to—”
“Appear normal,” Nicholas finished her sentence, his voice dipping low. He opened his mouth slightly, as if to say something, but then closed it. When he spoke again, his voice was different. “I’m going to call my friend and see if she wants to come up and eat with me.”
“What’s her name?” Valerie asked. She was glad he had a friend. They hadn’t been able to talk much about how school was going. She was always so tired after work, often napping when Nicholas came home, waking only long enough to cook dinner, which he ate less and less.
“Kyrie.”
“Are you—”
“No,” Nicholas said, reaching for the door. He stepped out of the car, shutting it in Valerie’s face. She closed her eyes for a moment, almost said a prayer, but thought better of it. A face flashed in her mind, and it was the Deacon’s. She’d been thinking of him lately at work and warming when he came in to eat. And she hated to admit it, but she thought of him as she drifted off to sleep, too.
He was even in her dreams.
Maybe, she thought, if Nicholas had a friend, she could have one too.
