Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 111(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 111(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
We chat for hours after that. Actually, I chat and Derek listens. I’m learning he doesn’t like to say much but it’s obvious from the way he tips his head that he’s listening to me. He interrupts sometimes with questions, asking for details.
By the time the café is closing, I still feel like there are a million more things I want to tell him. After all, we have about two decades of conversations to have.
“Let me walk you to your car,” he insists as we step into the night air. The rain has stopped but the world still has that fresh, new smell that it gets after it’s been wiped clean again.
“It’s fine. I’ve got it,” I tell him. It’s weird to have someone that wants to look out for me now. I’m so used to only having myself. My mom was great at looking out for me when I was young but once she was diagnosed, we switched places. I became the parent, and she became the child, the one I cared for and looked after. I don’t regret that. I only wish she’d been honest with me in the final days of her life.
“Why didn’t she come back for you?” I don’t even realize I asked the question out loud until he stops walking. He’s standing under a streetlight, the light casting an orange glow in his brown hair.
He’s got his hands in his pockets and he says softly, “She was probably scared. That night…wasn’t a good one. She was afraid for her life and self-preservation instincts kicked in. She packed up the moment he left for work the next morning.”
“She shouldn’t have left you,” I whisper, feeling somehow responsible. I wish I could go back in time and talk to her. Tell her to take my brother too. Both of our lives would have been so different.
“If only one of us could go, I’m glad it was you,” he says. Then he looks beyond my shoulder and frowns. “What the fuck? Are you living out of your car?”
“I’m not homeless.” My neck heats as soon as I say the words. Mom would have called me a nomadic spirit on the way to her next great adventure. She had a gift for seeing the silver lining…and abandoning her kid, apparently.
“Well, you’re sure as hell not sleeping in that junker,” he grinds out. He nods as if he’s decided something. “You’ll come home with me tonight.”
6
JOURNEY
“Are you sure this is alright?” I ask again as Derek pulls his truck into the driveway. I can’t believe that he’s letting me stay just like this. I spent the last two hours talking his ear off as he drove and not once did he get annoyed with me. When he paid for gas, he bought me a bag of various snacks and sodas.
“Cam won’t care that you’re here.” He cuts the ignition.
“And Cam is?” I prompt. While I’ve told Derek as much as I can about my life, he’s been very quiet. I don’t think he’s much of a talker.
“Cam owns this place. He’s my roommate. We work together.”
“At the fire station,” I clarify. I have managed to get that detail out of him. Derek is a firefighter for Courage County. He’s a lieutenant there. When I asked him about it, he said it means he gets to boss the other firefighters around. He looked amused, which makes me think he’s probably a pretty cool boss.
“I’ll just crash for the night,” I tell Derek as I unbuckle my seatbelt. Derek put everything in my car in the back of his truck. I expect him to leave it here overnight since I’ll be leaving in the morning, but he starts unloading it.
“Kind of a wasted effort,” I warn him as I grab a bag of my clothes.
He shrugs and leads me up the walk. It’s a one-story ranch home with red shutters and a front porch that’s in desperate need of a makeover. It’s clean and neat, just not decorated.
Inside the house is an open concept with hardwood floors and exposed beams. It’s clearly an older home that’s been renovated and modernized. But like the porch, it’s too barren. The living room only has a couch, a recliner and a flat screen TV.
There are no personal touches or anything to cozy up the place. It reminds me of a hotel room with how sterile it is. Looking at it, I decide this must be the place where Cam and Derek crash when they’re not working at the fire station.
“It’s pretty.” I won’t look a gift horse in the mouth. It’s still nice to have a place to sleep where I’m not worried about waking up to a strange truck driver staring into my darkened car.
He snorts and carries my stuff down a hallway and into a room. There’s only a futon in here but that doesn’t bother me. I’ve slept in all sorts of places since the foreclosure. Passing the night on a futon won’t be a hardship.