AllFreeNovel
Share Us
From the trunk, she grabbed her bag of equipment and her yoga mat. She’d have to find some place to set up for her morning livestream yoga class. Then she joined her husband on the porch.
“Look,” she said at the door. “It’s still blinking. You have to give it a second.”
She’d memorized the code, and when the keypad went dark again, she punched it in. The door unlocked easily and swung open. All she smelled was wood and flowers.
“I’m a dick,” said Mako, pulling her in. “Sorry.”
He kissed her deep and long. She wrapped her arms around him, took in the scent of him, relished the warmth and strength of his embrace. Then, a second later, he was sweeping her off her feet and she was laughing as he carried her over the threshold into the magical weekend they were planning.
5
Henry
1997
Henry knew his mother was different from the other mothers. He just didn’t know exactly what was different about her.
The other women gathered on the sidewalk in front of the school were chatting easily, peals of laughter rising up every so often. They were all pretty at various levels with shiny hair and healthy bodies—not all thin but fit, holding themselves with confidence. They wore jeans and colorful tops, or bright clothes they would wear to the gym after the kids had gone inside. They clutched to-go coffee cups, or water bottles, carried big totes. There was a kind of carefree lightness to them, or so it seemed.
Henry’s mom was not like them. She was apart somehow, would not just slide easily into that group with a casual self-introduction and some friendly comment.I’m Henry’s mom. We’re new, but we just love it here!
He was apart, too, just like her.
“Have everything?” his mom, Alice, asked. Her hair was mousy and pulled back tight at the base of her neck. Her glasses were large. She wore a skirt—a too-big denim thing with buttons down the middle, a cardigan though it was warm, a big leather satchel slung across her body. All wrong.
“Homework? Lunch?” she said when he didn’t answer.
He nodded, feeling a little guilty because he wanted her to leave.
“Okay, then,” she said with a dip of her chin. “Be a good, quiet boy.”
He gave her another nod.
The other kids ran wild on the playground behind him. He, like her, would not just slide easily into the group. He was invisible, more or less, they both were. Somehow gray ghosts in the wildly colorful, brightly sunny, and warm going on hot Florida school day morning. Already there were waves of heat off the asphalt, the sun a burning ball in the sky. He didn’t mind the heat, had inherited a dread of the cold from his mother.
Quiet. That was the most important thing to Alice. She startled easily, looked around them always, like someone might be following, watching. But no one ever was.
“What are you so afraid of?” he’d asked her once.
She’d looked at him, the way she did sometimes. Blankly at first, then thoughtful. “The world, Henry. I’m afraid of the whole world.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s full of monsters. I have to keep us safe.”
What kind of monsters, he wondered. But he didn’t ask. He didn’t really want to know.
“Henry,” she said, snapping him back.
“Yes,” he said. “I will be. Good and quiet.”
“Okay.”
She seemed to want to say more, likeI love youoryou’re my special guy. But she must have intuited that he didn’t want that, pressed her mouth into a tight line. It was okay at night when she was tucking him in. But not here, not at school when the other kids were off and playing, moms forgotten for the day. He was aware of a desperation to be free of her—just for a while. He edged toward the school.
She moved away, too, getting it. “See you at three?”
“Okay.”
