Page 72 of Silent Heart

Thank heavens.

Having a kid with a man who disappeared into thin air would be hard, and while a child was always a blessing, it would screw up my own plans. But I didn’t have to worry about that. Kole was gone, and that was that.

Thankfully, my grandparents hadn’t said much on the topic of my sudden split with the neighbor. My cousins and other relatives were far from that kind. I was the talk of the town.

“It’s regular beer because I’m not pregnant,” I said tightly. “Whoever is saying I am needs to stop it right fucking now, Kayla.”

She only laughed, swaying precariously in her cheap heels.

I took a step back, waiting for her to fall, having no intention of catching her.

“Well, it’s a pity none of the local boys ever caught your fancy,” Aunt Janice sighed. “You wouldn’t be running off to the big city, chasing that university nonsense.”

“You know how dangerous it is there?” Kayla hiccupped. “So many gangs shooting each other in the streets!”

I closed my eyes. I’d been going to Chicago every so often for the last fifteen years of my life. While I was definitely a country girl, because I couldn’t ride Lilac along the Dan Ryan Expressway, I didn’t mind the scenery, the availability of different foods, or the interesting individuals waiting around every turn! There were so many cultures represented, diverse languages, different backgrounds and ways of life. I loved soaking it in, and the variety of food was like having the four corners of the world come to one place to cook for me.

Letting out a dismissive noise, I untangled myself from my relatives’ toxic company and stalked to where my grandparents sat at the plastic folding table covered with decorative paper.

“Do you guys have a ride back?” I asked, setting my half-drunk bottle of beer on the table.

“Oh, you’re not leaving already! They just cut the cake!” Grandma protested.

But it was the narrowed look my grandfather gave me that set my teeth on edge. “I’ve had a cake from the Piggly Wiggly before, Grandma,” I teased. “I’m going to look in on the horses one more time before I hit the road. I want to be at my dorm before dark.”

“It’s not natural to live in a commune at your age,” my grandfather muttered.

While a dorm was far from ideal, it was cheap. I had my own bedroom with only a bathroom that I could share with a suitemate, so it wasn’t like it was a true dorm experience where I would shower with every girl on the floor.

“It’s going to be a grand adventure,” I smiled.

Grandpa studied me. “I suppose it is. Can’t say I understand, but you’re driven and you’re smart, Harley. Keep your eyes open, stay out of trouble, and study hard.”

My chest tightened. These last few days, as I’d packed, there had been no disapproving comments from my grandparents. They were resigned about my choice, and while they didn’t agree, they were happy for me on some level.

That was the only thing that made this goodbye possible.

“And go to church!” Grandma added, giving me a tight hug.

“I will,” I promised, voice choking with a sudden rush of emotion. “I’ll call when I get settled.”

Untangling from Grandma’s embrace, I flung myself around my grandpa.

“I checked the oil in your car this morning. Your gas tank’s full—did you notice? And the tire pressure is good,” he muttered against my head.

I swallowed hard. “Thank you, Grandpa.”

Did he lose weight?I pulled back, sending a cursory glance over my grandfather’s arms. The skin was paper thin and the muscle tone more frail than I remembered.

For the thousandth time, I questioned if I was doing the right thing. They’d scraped the money for taxes, but that meant pinching every penny. I’d been a helpless bystander, watching them struggle through the end of summer, while knowing that my savings could have temporarily patched the problem.

But what then?

Sighing, I turned away. As I wandered to my Passat, I was pulled from the tangle of thoughts by a prickle at the base of my neck. I looked around but didn’t see anyone in the trees. The undergrowth was lush and green, like the crops standing tall in the field. We’d had good weather this summer. The harvest would be bountiful, a small blessing in the mess.

“I can’t ask them for money,” Ottis hissed.

I sank into my driver’s seat, tucking my dress into the vehicle. My cousin was arguing with his wife on the other side of their Lexus.

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