The Staying Kind

by Cerian Hebert

  Rio wanted to tell him to embrace his girl. His love and support would melt her walls in time. Instead, she kept her mouth shut, carrying her plate and cup into the kitchen so they could have a few minutes of privacy.

  She returned to gather the other dishes and brought them to the kitchen. She rinsed them off and loaded them in the dishwasher.

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  Travis’s voice from behind startled her. She swung around, nearly dropping the plate in her hand. He’d snuck up on her, probably trying to catch her doing something wrong.

  Stop being so suspicious.

  “It’s okay. I should lend a hand. It’s the least I can do.”

  His penetrating blue gaze held her tightly, a thousand questions there. He’d be asking those questions soon enough. Then expect answers, and she couldn’t blame him, since he’d invited her to live in his home.

  For now.

  She had to decide what information she’d share with him. Some of it he could probably access at work. He wouldn’t find any police records on her, or any reports of her missing or as a runaway. Not to my knowledge, anyway.

  She thought of her brother and sister. Older by two years, Diamond had left a few months before Rio, heading as far away as possible too, in a car filled with her friends who’d decided to go west for whatever adventure they could find.

  Diamond had always been a free spirit. She didn’t care for home life any more than Rio. Unlike Rio, though, Diamond didn’t let herself become trapped under their mother’s thumb. Rio wished she’d known her sister’s secret to avoiding most of the hell. Maybe their mother and her friends had simply found Rio an easier target.

  Storm, five years younger, was another story. Rio tried to protect him as much as she could. She’d failed miserably. The night he’d been taken away remained etched in her brain, impossible to forget. And it became the catalyst for her to leave, because after that she had no reason to stay. Social Services would have come for her, and she didn’t trust them any more than she’d trusted her mother.

  Travis could find all this out by checking online or placing a few calls. And then she’d give him some details about her past. With luck he’d leave it alone. As long as he didn’t show her pity. She hated to be pitied.

  Travis had grabbed the coffee pot and brought it to the sink. “Coffee?”

  Usually she didn’t, but she nodded, and regretted it almost instantly. Now she’d be stuck in his company for a while longer. As if there wasn’t enough tension in the air.

  She tried to push it aside, ignore it. Say something. Nothing came to mind. Nothing that wouldn't sound stilted. Forced. So, in silence she searched for more busy work, feeling completely lost here in Travis’s world.

  When the coffee finished brewing, Travis pulled two mugs out of a cabinet and set them on the counter. “Cream? Sugar?”

  Rio forced a smile. “Black is fine.”

  He carried both mugs to the kitchen table, tucked away in the corner of the room.

  “Why don’t you have a seat here.” He pulled out a chair and waited for her to settle, then sat across from her.

  Rio felt like she was about to be lectured. Instead of launching into some rant, however, Travis studied her.

  “Now you’re here, and as long as you are here, we need to set some things straight. I don’t know anything about your background. I can find out easily enough, so anytime you feel the need to let me know what your story is, I’ll listen. In the meantime, there are some things I expect you to do while you’re here.”

  He paused while he sprinkled a spoonful of sugar into his coffee, his attention still on her. “One, set up some kind of savings account. In time you can find a place of your own. As long as things go smoothly you can stay here. Do you drive?”

  “Yes and no. I’ve never had the chance to get a license, but I do know how to drive.” At the age of thirteen, her mother had taught her so she could be the “designated driver” during Mom’s many escapades. Rio kept her mouth shut about it. Let him use his imagination.

  Travis didn’t pursue the subject. His jaw tightened as he stared at his coffee cup. “Two, Sadie deserves a commitment from you. If you intend to take her up on her offer, you better prepare to stay for the duration. No ducking out halfway through. She’s a trusting woman, and puts a lot of stock in someone’s word. Too much, in my opinion, but that’s who she is. So if you’re having second thoughts, say so now. I don’t want her disappointed.”

  “I plan on keeping my word.” Rio didn’t expand on her reasons, like how, even before the end of her first lesson on Dante, she’d fallen in love with the sport. The idea of competing gave her a goal, something to focus on that didn’t include running off to another city, another state.

  “And third, and most important, is my daughter.” Travis propped his elbows on the table, and studied Rio. “Jessa is going through a rough patch. I would very much appreciate it if you would stay out of it. I’m not convinced I’m making the right decision letting you stay here, but I have a gut feeling and I usually trust those. If I find you’re a negative influence on her, whether it’s intentional or not, you’ll have to leave. Preferably far away from my family.”

  Rio didn’t turn her eyes away from him. She couldn’t argue his conditions were unfair. “I have no intention of hurting anyone, Travis. It’s not in my nature.” Her nature had always been to make as few waves as possible. Flying under the radar as often as she could.

  Travis gave a short nod and sat back, picking up his mug. “Now, is there anything you’d like to say?”

  Rio stiffened as she stared silently at the black liquid in her mug.

  “You don’t have to,” Travis continued. “I’d feel a lot more comfortable about knowing something about the woman living under my roof. Like where you’re from. Where you’re really from.”

  She bit her lip. The first time they met she told him she came from Pennsylvania. It wasn’t a complete lie. She’d been in Pennsylvania before coming up to New Hampshire.

  “Originally I’m from a small town outside Buffalo, New York. But I haven’t been there in twelve years.”

  Travis frowned. “How old are you?”

  Rio cocked one brow. “Now, is that a polite question?”

  “My apologies.” Travis smiled and it transformed his face from intense and serious to relaxed and boyish. He had a wide and very appealing smile which, under better circumstances, would’ve been very contagious. Dangerous on a different level. At the moment she wasn’t feeling particularly lighthearted and could only manage a small smile in return.

  “Fine. I left home young, around your daughter’s age, and never looked back. You could say my family life was lacking.”

  Travis nodded. The smile and light in his eyes died a bit and was replaced by his seriousness again. “Have you had any contact with your family since you left?”

  Rio drew a deep breath. How many questions did he plan on asking? She generally steered clear of determined people and their questions. Avoiding them was far better than rehashing the details of her past.

  Travis had her cornered. If she planned on sticking around she’d have to give him something more. He wouldn’t let up until he was satisfied. Then, and only then, he’d leave her be. Until he again wanted more.

  She slumped in her chair and continued to stare at the mug. Her mouth had dried up, so she took a swallow of the coffee, letting the hot liquid slide down her throat.

  “Okay, I’ll give you a bone,” she said slowly. “I ran away from home when I was fifteen and believe me, there was never a moment on the road that I felt more in danger than I did at home. From my own mother, her endless parade of boyfriends, and their lifestyles. I have an older sister who left home before me. I haven’t seen her since she walked out.”

  Rio had to p
ause. She couldn’t summon much emotion when it came to her sister. Storm was another matter entirely. “I also have a younger brother. Storm. Two days before I left, he was removed from our home. I’d rather not discuss why. I couldn’t take care of him, and I regret it every day.”

  Rio paused and let him digest that bit of information. Not too heavy on the details. She hoped he wouldn’t push her for more. She hadn’t ever told anyone about them. Ever.

  “Since leaving,” she continued so he wouldn’t have a chance to ask, “I’ve travelled around, stopping when I feel like it, working here and there for whomever will give me a job. I don’t like staying in one place longer than a few weeks because if I stay longer, then people tend to start prying into my past.”

  “So what has kept you here for so long?”

  “Your aunt. She was kind to me, believed in me and didn’t push me to talk about my past. I felt safe with her.”

  “She’s all that,” Travis agreed quietly. “She’s a good woman.”

  “I don’t plan on hurting her. I would never do anything to cause her pain. My mother was a horrible person, and I’m not sorry about saying it. I promised myself I wouldn’t be like her. I can’t imagine wasting everything I’ve learned, everything I’ve put myself through, by being like her.”

  “You’ve had quite a life.” Travis studied his coffee as well, suddenly sober.

  “I will tell you one thing.” Rio kept her voice strong enough for Travis to glance up and study her again. “Until I broke into your cabin I’ve never done anything like that. Nothing. Some minor things. Small things, only because I had to. Nothing on the lines of breaking and entering. I don’t do drugs. I don’t smoke or drink. My mother did all that and more. I couldn’t stand the thought of walking in her footsteps. You can do all the searches you want for a record on me. You won’t find a thing. I’ve always paid my own way and I don’t intend to change. I don’t like asking for help.”

  “Sometimes you have to, Rio.”

  Chapter 7

  Travis kept his attention fixed on Rio despite her obvious discomfort. She’d told him more than he’d expected. He could tell it put her on the defensive and he might have pushed her further away.

  He had to appreciate the irony of his situation. Under his roof were two females he wanted to help. Both were busy building walls to keep him out.

  As if she read his mind, Rio directed the subject away from herself. “About your daughter. Don’t give up on her. Ever. I don’t know her story or yours, but you seem like a good father. Believe me, she’ll appreciate it again.”

  With that, Rio stood and carried her cup to the sink. She paused, and stared out the window for a long, silent moment.

  Travis wondered what she saw out there in the darkness. Then she turned to him, the curtain of doubt drawn snugly, uncertainty evident in her gaze, though she’d relaxed slightly.

  “If there’s anything out of place at the cabin, let me know. I’ll put it right. Like I said, I’m not in the habit of breaking the law. I don’t want to start now. Night.”

  Travis didn’t move from the table. He sipped his now lukewarm coffee. Rio’s story stuck tight in his head. It was a foregone conclusion he’d check her out. He had a duty to see if she’d been telling the truth about her past.

  “Kind of like locking the henhouse after the fox has been invited in,” he murmured to himself.

  His gut told him to believe her. He always thought he could judge a person pretty well, almost as well as Sadie. He figured the information Rio had disclosed would be exactly what he’d find if he started digging.

  Finally, Travis put his mug in the dishwasher, and left the kitchen. The living room was empty and dark. Jessa must’ve gone to her room to finish her homework. How ironic that he had more of an idea of how to handle the situation with Rio than the one with his own daughter.

  Maybe because he had no real connection with Rio and her life up until a few days ago. Jessa’s problems were his because she was his life. Somehow he had to try to heal her hurts.

  Instead of tackling this problem now, Travis settled at his desk in the corner of the living room and switched on his computer. He could find out more at work. In the meantime, he might discover something about Rio on the internet.

  He typed her name into the search engine field. Nothing came up. Next he typed Presley and Buffalo, New York. He could only assume Rio and her mother shared the same last name. Rio hadn’t mentioned a father, so there was a fair chance the father had never been in the picture to begin with.

  A search for the name Presley brought up a handful of articles, most of them having nothing to do with Rio’s family, unless they were somehow related to a real estate agent who’d sold a shopping plaza, or another Presley who ran a marathon.

  One item caught his attention, a brief newspaper-like archived item about a Katrina Presley who’d been arrested for possession and prostitution, though the article dealt more with the man she’d been living with than her own criminal past.

  Details were scant. From the article Travis gleaned that the man had been murdered in his home, the home he shared with Katrina Presley. No picture accompanied the article, but apparently the home had been under the local police department’s scrutiny quite often.

  A ten-year old had been removed from the house. The article suggested he’d been the one who’d been responsible for the killing. There was no mention of a sister.

  Travis jotted down the names of her siblings on a pad of paper next to the keyboard then did a search, first for a Storm Presley. The unusual name helped to narrow the results a bit. Only one relevant site came up. A Storm Presley had been arrested for armed robbery two years ago.

  The same Storm Presley served years in a juvenile detention center with no explanation of why he’d been there given. It wasn’t too difficult to link the incidences. Storm had only been out of prison for about two years before landing himself back there.

  Travis swore under his breath. This was what Rio hadn’t wanted to talk about, and he could understand why. How much heartbreak could one girl handle?

  Like being deserted by a mother who hadn’t given any indication of dissatisfaction for her life until the day she wrote a note saying she couldn’t deal with being a mother and his wife anymore.

  He’d tried to shield Jessa from those words, tried to make any kind of excuse he could for a woman who didn’t deserve being defended. He didn’t do it for Laura’s sake, however. He wanted to protect his daughter at all costs, including her heart.

  Travis shut down the computer and rubbed his eyes. He was damned tired and out of answers. Jessa wasn’t some toddler he could wrap in his arms and cuddle anymore. She was a teenager and she didn’t want anything to do with him.

  A photo of the two of them a few weeks before he’d been deployed to Afghanistan sat on the desk next to the monitor. One of the last happy moments of their lives. She’d always been his golden girl, with long flowing blonde hair, and dancing blue eyes. She looked so much like her mother.

  He didn’t let himself be bothered by the physical similarities. They were two completely different people. The way he figured Rio to be a decent person, he knew, deep in his heart, Jessa could never be like Laura.

  The last thing he wanted to do this late at night was think about his ex, or how he’d missed the signs of her discontent. He didn’t have the energy. He rubbed a hand over his face wearily. The road ahead of him would be long and hard.

  Travis pushed away from the desk. There wasn’t much to do other than go to bed. Before he did he had to see how Jessa was. She might not want to talk to him. Still, he had to give it a shot.

  Their rooms were on the second floor of the farmhouse. Her door was closed and there was no noise from within. He knocked quietly. For a moment he didn’t think she’d let him in. Finally, he heard her
voice giving him permission to enter.

  She sat cross-legged on her bed, a schoolbook on her lap. Music played softly from the stereo on the shelf. So far her rebellion didn’t include loud music. Small blessings.

  “Homework done?”

  “Most of it,” she replied, her attention glued to the book.

  He wouldn’t give up. “How did it go at Aunt Sadie’s?”

  “Fine.”

  “Aunt Sadie wants you to start riding again.”

  No response except a flicker of emotion on her face. Longing? Annoyance? Travis couldn’t quite tell.

  He took a moment to study her. The black hair made her skin appear pale and her eyes darker. The severe cut couldn’t take the curls; in fact, the black locks curled more without the previous weight of the hair that had once grown nearly to her waist.

  Although she tried to concentrate on her book, Travis could tell her mind was elsewhere. Her jaw tensed, her eyes lost, as if seeing something completely different than the words on the page.

  “I don’t think your riding boots will fit anymore,” he continued, determined to reach her somehow. “We could go out and pick up another pair.”

  Jessa shrugged.

  “Well, think about it. Lights out in half an hour. I’m going to bed.”

  No response.

  “I love you, Jessa. Never forget it.”

  Jessa pressed her lips together into a tight line, but didn’t reply. Travis decided to leave it at that and backed out of the room, shutting the door behind him.