by Devney Perry
“Yes.” Without a doubt. Londyn would have a hard time taking a trip across the country without me. “That’s a lot of long-term thinking for a woman who just wanted to roam America.”
Londyn laughed. “I want to roam, just not alone.”
“Turns out I haven’t had a decent vacation in sixteen years. Think I’m overdue.”
“California first. Then where?”
I let out a long breath. “Are we really talking about this? You and me?”
“I feel it.” She put her hand over her own heart this time. “Deep.”
“Then California first. We’ll decide where to go from there.”
She crashed into my arms, winding her arms around my waist. I breathed in her scent, grateful I wouldn’t have to search for it on the sheets tonight because she was here. I could hold her. Touch her.
Keep her.
We stood there, holding on to one another, until her stomach rumbled and forced us apart. “Let’s get home. We’ll eat and then call it a day.”
The police would likely have a ton of questions tomorrow. All I cared about was that they found the person who did this.
Londyn unwrapped herself from around me and stepped away, taking another crushing look at her car.
I turned too, inspecting it once more. It was a fucking mess. The paint was scratched to hell. A couple of the panels were dented. The mirror on the passenger side was barely hanging on. The bumper was loose.
“What color was the truck again?” I asked. She’d told the deputy, but I’d been so fucking furious and scared, I hadn’t absorbed the details.
“Blue.”
“What kind of blue?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Bright. Electric blue, maybe?”
Electric blue. “And what kind of truck? Do you remember any details?”
“No, not really. I just remember it was really tall. When it was beside me, I couldn’t see inside.”
An electric blue truck with a lift kit.
I’d seen a truck like that parked in my own driveway more than once.
“What the hell?” I stood, fisting my hands on my hips. No way.
“What?” Londyn came to my side, staring at the spot where I was looking. “What am I looking at?”
“You’re sure it was bright blue?”
“Yes.” She nodded.
I snatched up her hand and marched for the back door. I hit the button to close the overhead door and locked up as soon as we were outside. Then I put us both in my truck, not uttering a word.
My mind was stuck on a possibility I didn’t even want to consider.
“Okay, what am I missing?” Londyn asked as I backed away from the garage.
“A hunch,” I answered through gritted teeth. And if that hunch was right, I was about to lose my shit.
I sped down the streets toward home, skidding to a stop when I hit my driveway. The second Londyn and I were out of the car, I whipped out my phone and dialed my son’s number.
“Hey, Dad,” he answered.
“Get home. Now.” I ended the call without explanation.
“What’s going on, Brooks?” Londyn touched my forearm as I paced on the grass beyond the front door.
“Describe it all to me again. Start at the beginning.”
“Okay.” She took a deep breath. “The truck came up behind me while I was on the phone with Gemma. I didn’t even see it until it was right behind me, and only then all I could really see was the grill. I was trying to watch the road. It bumped me a couple of times, then drove up beside me. I thought it would pass, but it stayed close. There was a car coming the other way so I hit the brakes. I swerved, overcorrected and veered into the ditch.”
“When the truck was beside you, what did it look like?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Tall, mostly. Blue. It wasn’t shiny though, not like the Cadillac.”
Matte electric blue. I was seconds away from nuclear, but I kept it together because I didn’t want to scare Londyn. “Okay. What else? Did you see the driver?”
“No. I was just trying to stay on the road.”
“Understandable. Was there someone else? A passenger? Or was it only the driver?”
Her forehead furrowed as she thought it over. “I-I don’t know.”
We’d find out soon enough.
I stayed in the front yard, my arms crossed over my chest, until Wyatt drove up in his white Ford F-150. We’d bought the truck about six months ago on his birthday. He’d chipped in a third from his savings, and I’d covered the rest.
If I was right, that truck was about to become a lawn ornament.
“Hey.” He stepped out and waved to Londyn. “You’re back.”
She opened her mouth to answer, but before she could speak, I held up a hand. “Truth, son. I expect the truth.”
That’s all I had to say. His frame crumpled. “It wasn’t my idea.”
“Fuck.” I ran a hand through my hair. “What the fuck were you thinking?”
“It was Joe’s idea.”
Fucking Joe. An idiot of a kid who, at best, had two brain cells to rub together. The kid came from absentee parents who thought restoring an old Chevy truck, complete with a monster lift kit and custom paint job, was the way to their son’s heart.
“Joe’s idea. That’s not a reason!” I roared. “You could have hurt her. You could have killed her.”
Wyatt’s face paled. “We were just trying to scare her. Joe wasn’t supposed to run her off the road, just tap her bumper a couple of times. Scare her into turning around.”
“Oh, Wyatt.” Londyn touched her hand to her heart. “It was you?”
My son’s frame sank even lower as he hung his head. “I’m sorry.”
“Why?” I demanded, my fury barely in check. How could my son do this to me? How could he put the woman I loved—absolutely fucking loved after only weeks—in danger like that?
“You seemed happy,” Wyatt whispered. “I saw you on the rock together. That night I delivered Thai to Meggie. I forgot her extra carton of rice, so I brought it over. You were laughing. I thought, if she stayed longer, you might . . . I don’t know.”
He thought I’d stay happy.
So he’d vandalized the garage. He’d slashed her tires. He’d done it all to get Londyn to stay.
My anger dulled from a raging boil to a hot simmer. “Son, this was not the way.”
“I know.” He hung his head. “I just . . . I was trying to help.”
Christ. I cast a glance at Londyn. She wasn’t even mad. She stared at Wyatt with a soft smile on her face. “You might have hurt her. Things could have ended much differently.”
“I told him not to hit her car. I told him over and over to back off. But he didn’t listen.” He lifted his head to Londyn. “I’m so sorry. I saw you swerve into the ditch and I’ve never been more scared. I begged Joe to go back for you, but he said the cops would arrest us. Are you okay?”
“I’m okay.” Londyn sighed. “Scared, but otherwise unharmed.”
Goddamn it. I rubbed my temples. What was I supposed to do now? I pulled out my phone from my pocket and handed it to Wyatt.
“Call the sheriff’s station. You can explain what happened.”
Wyatt’s face twisted in agony, but he nodded. “Okay, Dad.”
Then I stood there and watched my son make probably the hardest phone call of his life.
The deputy who’d been on the road with us came over and took our statements along with Wyatt’s confession. Londyn refused to press charges. An hour later, Wyatt had been issued a warning and the deputy was on his way to Joe’s house to deliver a reckless driving ticket.
It was a slap on the wrist, but one I knew would sink deep for my son.
“I’m sorry, Dad,” Wyatt said as we sat in the living room. We still hadn’t eaten, but I’d lost my appetite. I’d offered to get a pizza delivered, but Londyn hadn’t been hungry anymore either.
“You’re grounded. Until . . . college.” Maybe
longer. “I’m assuming the keying and the tires and wrecking the garage was you too?”
He gave me a solemn nod.
Wyatt was the other person with a key to the garage and the thought that he’d do that to me or a customer hadn’t even crossed my mind. “You’re paying me back for everything. With interest.”
He hung his head. “Yes, sir.”
Londyn’s hand came over mine as she shifted closer on the couch. She looked up at me, her eyes begging me to take it easy.
Maybe I would, but I certainly wouldn’t tonight. Vehicles were weapons. I’d taught that lesson to Wyatt many times, so why hadn’t he learned? And the vandalism? That was petty bullshit. I’d raised him better than that.
And as far as I was concerned, Wyatt wasn’t hanging out with Joe for the rest of his life.
“Go to bed,” I ordered. I’d already texted Moira what was going on. Thankfully, she’d always been in sync with me as a parent. We supported one another when it came to punishments for Wyatt.
She’d promised that while he was grounded at my house, he’d be grounded at hers too.
Wyatt stood from the chair, turning for his room, but before he walked away, he came over to Londyn, bending low to give her a hug. “Sorry.”
She patted his shoulder. “Good night, Wyatt.”
He sulked to his bedroom.
When his door was closed, I let my head fall back into the couch. “Shit. He did it for the right reasons, but damn. I don’t even know what to say.”
Londyn stayed quiet for a minute, then her hand flew to her mouth. I sat up, expecting tears. Instead, she had a fit of giggles. Her hand muffled the laughter, but her eyes watered.
“Is this really funny?”
She pulled herself together, swiping her eyes dry. “Do you think we should tell him I was turning around anyway?”
“Yes,” I muttered. “He needs to suffer for his stupidity.”
“But not too much.” She curled into my side. “His heart was in the right place.”
“Yeah.” He’d been thinking of his dad. He’d seen right from the start, before even knowing her, that Londyn was someone special. “I didn’t get your suitcases from the Cadillac.”
“I don’t think I need any clothes tonight, do you?”
Tonight. Tomorrow night. All the nights after that. “No, you don’t.”
We’d get her suitcases tomorrow, she’d unload them into my closet, and she’d stay. She might not realize it yet, but she was home. In Summers. In this house.
The next time she wanted to leave and find a new adventure, she’d have company.
We’d drive that runaway road together.
Epilogue
Londyn
One year later . . .
“I’m going to the store. Need anything?”
“No,” Brooks said from beneath a gray Chevy Silverado, where he was changing the oil. “Wait. Yeah, I need shaving cream.”
“Anything else?” I gave him a minute to think it over. I knew there was more. There was always more. The man never seemed to remember what he needed when I was making my list, but five minutes before I left for the store, he’d rattle off four or five items.
“Flossers.”
“And?” I swung the car seat at my side, glancing down at our daughter. Ellie Cohen was fast asleep, a binky dangling from her pink lips.
“Orange juice.”
I already had that one on my list. “And?”
“Uh . . .”
I sighed and looked at Tony. He stood against a tool box, his chest shaking in silent laughter. Brooks and I didn’t just have this standoff for the grocery store. He’d always tack on a handful of parts right before I was ready to hit send on the order.
“I’m leaving in four, three, two—”
“Pickles.”
My face soured. Thanks to my unexpected pregnancy and a horrible bout of morning sickness, pickles were no longer on my favorite foods list. But I’d buy them for Brooks because he loved them on his ham sandwiches. “Okay, we’re taking off. I’ll meet you at home.”
“Drive careful.”
“I will,” I promised like I did each time he sent me off with the same warning. “Don’t be late. You have one hour to get home and get showered before we need to leave.”
Wyatt had his first football game of the season tonight and he was starting as linebacker. He was nervous—something I found exceptionally endearing—because the girl he’d been crushing on was going to be in the stands watching.
Wyatt was still grounded, both at Brooks’s house and at Moira’s, but it was coming to an end. One year of near angelic behavior and his parents were struggling to punish him any longer. If it had been my decision, he would have been forgiven months ago.
“Don’t worry, honey. I’ll be there.”
Okay, maybe I was just as nervous for tonight’s game as Wyatt. “Love you,” I called.
Brooks, lying on his back on a wheeled cart, pushed out from under the Chevy and grinned. “Love you too.”
I blew him a kiss, waved goodbye to Tony, then headed out the back door, where my Cadillac waited. She gleamed in the September sunshine, her color coordinating with autumn’s turning leaves. But I wasn’t driving her around Summers today. Brooks would bring home the Cadillac and I was taking his truck—it was safer for Ellie and her car seat.
It had taken a month to get the Cadillac fixed after the crash into the ditch. It hadn’t mattered much to me, considering anywhere I needed to go, Brooks was more than willing to drive me.
My first month as an official resident of Summers was spent waking up with the sunshine each morning and falling asleep beside Brooks each night. More often than not, I found myself at the garage during the day, where I stayed in the office while Brooks and Tony worked on cars.
The stack of paperwork in Brooks’s office called my name. I asked for the password to his computer and figured out the rest myself, only asking questions when necessary.
Though I was already doing the work, when Brooks offered me the job as office manager, I hesitated to accept. Was I repeating the same pattern from Boston? It took me a week to work past those fears and realize they were unfounded.
Life in Summers was nothing like Boston. Brooks was nothing like Thomas.
He hadn’t offered me a job with his company. He hadn’t given me a home in his house.
Everything about our life was ours.
Brooks added my name to the title on the house. I bought into the garage as his partner.
Summers was home, but Brooks and I talked often about where we’d go exploring. We had a few years between Wyatt’s graduation from high school and the time Ellie would start kindergarten.
Our plan was to take as many vacations as we could afford until it was time to put her in school. Then we’d limit travel to summers. Maybe Wyatt would come too, depending on his college schedule, and we’d make it a family trip.
Ellie was a beautiful surprise.
She was one month old and the anchor of my heart.
Brooks and I hadn’t planned on getting pregnant. We hadn’t even talked about marriage until that fateful day when I’d held a positive pregnancy test in my hand as joyous tears streamed down my face. But somewhere along the way, a condom hadn’t worked, and like all things with our relationship, we’d moved into the future at warp speed.
The two of us had married in his parents’ yard beside the lake two weeks later. Then we’d waited for Ellie to arrive. The day she was born was the day I’d learned true peace.
I’d learned unconditional love.
I vowed never to fail her the way my parents had failed me.
After a lot of thought, I’d decided to investigate my parents in the hopes it would mend those dark, open wounds. They’d died days after I’d run away—a dual heroin overdose. My parents had been found together in their bed. Maybe if they had survived, they would have come looking for me.
Maybe not.
For now, I took comfort i
n knowing their tortured souls were at rest. And that running away had put me on a path that ultimately led home.
I felt it. Deep.
The trip to the grocery store was uneventful. Ellie stayed asleep even as the cashier fawned over her precious face. And she slept until we were home, unloading groceries into the kitchen.
“Hi, baby,” I cooed as she woke with a yawn. I hauled her out of the car seat just as the doorbell rang. “Should we go see who’s here?”
Ellie tooted.
I laughed, walking to the door. I opened it up, expecting Meggie or a neighbor, but my jaw dropped at the woman on my porch. “Gemma?”
“Hi.” She tugged off her sunglasses. “Surprise.”
“Yes, it sure is.” I smiled, waving her inside. “What are you doing here?”
Her eyes flooded. “I ran away.”
“She’s beautiful. Truly.” Gemma touched her finger to the top of Ellie’s nose.
“I think so.” I smiled, watching my friend cuddle my daughter as we sat on the back deck.
Last night after Gemma had arrived, she’d given me the quick and dirty details of leaving Boston, but we hadn’t had time to talk. Brooks had shown up twenty minutes after Gemma and we’d all rushed to the football game.
When we’d gotten home, I’d nursed Ellie, then Brooks had put her to bed while Gemma and I had spent a solid three hours on the couch, talking. We’d picked right back up again this morning.
“You’re right. This is amazing iced coffee.”
I took a sip of my own. “Told you so.”
“If Meggie had a spa, I might just stay in Summers forever.” Gemma had opted for the motel instead of our guest bedroom, wanting to give us privacy. Meggie had put her in my old room, number five.
It was good to see her in a pair of faded jeans and a loose green sweater. Her feet were in flimsy sandals. I hadn’t seen her relaxed like this in years.
Since I’d moved to Summers, Gemma and I had spoken on the phone every few weeks. She’d traveled to West Virginia for my wedding but hadn’t been back since Ellie was born.
“You found it,” Gemma said, staring out at the lake.
“Found what?”
