Page 2 of May's Bad Boy: Kody

"Come up to the main house once you are settled in. Caitlin has been working on a welcome dinner all day," Shane says.

"Sounds good," I say, unloading the few bags we have into the cabin.

After Sadie runs off to her room, I ease the door shut behind me. The cabin smells like fresh wood and lemon oil. It’s as if Shane's been working overtime to scrub away the past. It's clean and warm. But still doesn't feel like ours.

I head into the bedroom that will be Sadie's. There's a secondhand dresser in the corner and a twin bed made up with a pink unicorn blanket that I know Caitlin picked out. A stack of children's books sits on the nightstand, with a little folded note with Sadie's name in glittery ink.

"This is all mine?" she asks in awe.

I'm pretty sure this is the first time she will have her own room. Her mom and her shared a room when she was born. Right after I landed in jail, her mom passed away, so she went to live with her grandparents. She shared a room with her cousin there, since their other daughter was living with them, too.

I drop her two suitcases at the foot of the bed. Her clothes fill one of the suitcases, and the other is stuffed with crayons, and coloring books. Bear-Bear, the worn stuffed bear she hasn't let out of her sight since that night in Missoula is already on the bed. I make a mental note to wash him soon—he's starting to smell like rest area vending machines.

"Can I unpack them?" she asks.

"Yep. I'm going to go unpack in my room if you need me," I tell her.

I know I will have to reorganize her room, but her having independence is important too.

In the other room, I open the duffel I packed for myself. Two pairs of jeans. Five black T-shirts. One button-up I might never wear. I push it all into the bottom drawer of the built-in dresser and sit on the edge of the mattress.

For a second, I just sit there.

This place is... quiet.

Too quiet.

Not the kind of quiet I had in the cell, that was all buzzing lights, clanging doors, and the constant hum of tension.

This is the kind of quiet that gets inside your head. Makes you think too long. Remember too much.

When I head back to her room, Sadie is on the bed, fast asleep, with a dresser drawer open and her bag partly unpacked. It's been a long day and I don't blame her for needing a nap. If we had time, I'd take one too.

"All right, baby girl," I whisper. "Let's go meet the people who already care about you." Though I stop myself from saying more.

I wrap the unicorn blanket around her without waking her fully. She blinks up at me as I scoop her into my arms.

"Dinner?" she mumbles.

"Yeah. Let's go eat."

She rests her head on my shoulder, already drifting off again, and I carry her out into the last stretch of sunset as we walk toward the big house.

The porch light's already on by the time we reach the steps, casting a soft golden glow across the railings. It's warm here in a way I don't know how to explain. Not just the temperature, but the feel of it. Like the house itself knows how to offer comfort.

Sadie wiggles in my arms, already squirming to be put down. I lower her to the ground just in time for Caitlin to swing the door open with a wide smile and a dishtowel slung over one shoulder.

"Here are our newest neighbors!" she announces, like we're some kind of celebrity guests.

Sadie giggles as Caitlin bends down to her level and wraps her in a quick, tight hug.

"I see you found the unicorn blanket," Caitlin says, tapping Sadie's nose. "You picked the best room. I tested it myself with a nap earlier, just to be sure."

Sadie's eyes widen. "You took a nap in my bed?"

"Just to make sure it was comfy enough for a princess," Caitlin replies.

Inside, the air smells like garlic bread, spaghetti, and roasted chicken. My stomach clenches—half from hunger, half from being in someone else's home. It's been a long time since I've been welcomed like this. Too long.

---