Page 16 of The Chad Next Door
“Because Mom always got us ice cream when she had bad news.”
Oh. I wish I had known that before I suggested this. Apparently Bailey and I think alike, though. “I have news,” I say carefully, “but I don’t think it’s bad news. At least, I hope it isn’t. I signed you guys up for school.”
I brace myself for another tantrum, hands on my keys in case we need to make a run for it.
But the kids just blink at me for a second before returning to their ice cream. “Okay,” Zelda says.
Really? That’s it? “You’re not mad?”
“Why would we be mad?”
I’m not sure how to answer that one. I guess I was just going off of my own experiences. I was the kid who couldn’t wait until summer vacation came around so I could have freedom again. It’s kind of funny that I willingly paid a lot of money to keep going to school year after year up into my master’s program, all things considered.
I sit back in my seat, turning my gaze back out the window so I can smile without them seeing. “I guess I thought you guys would like being out of school.”
“We don’t have anything to do here, and you just want to read books all the time. It’s boring.” Zelda is not one to mince words.
My eyes catch on a man directly across the street from us. He walks slowly, hands in his pockets, until he looks over and sees the ice cream shop, and then he stops with a surprised expression on his face. It’s gone a moment later, but there is something familiar about him. I must have seen him in town yesterday without really noting him.
He seems to be watching me right back, though, like he thinks I look familiar too. Maybe we met somewhere else? He’s probably somewhere in his later thirties, though his curly brown hair is streaked with gray. Unless he was a professor or something, I don’t know where I would have seen him before, but there’s definitely something… A moment later, he blinks and keeps walking, pausing to talk to someone as they cross paths. He’s gotta be a local then, and he must have one of those faces. I’ll probably see him around again, and we’ll have one of those conversations where we list a bunch of places we might have met and realize we have literally never been in the same place before now.
The kids finish off their ice cream, and though Link cries a little when his cone breaks in his hand, all in all the night is a raging success. They agree to try taking the bus in a week or so after they’ve gotten used to being at school—I’ll drop them off tomorrow and get them checked in—and they both brush their teeth and go right to bed.
I send Bailey a quiet prayer of gratitude for raising such good kids, and then I settle on my couch bed with a book, drifting off to sleep before I even get through a chapter. For the first time since the day I got the phone call about my sister, I sleep peacefully.
Chapter Nine
Chad
October 11
I have a problem. AndIknowit’s a problem because I’ve lost track of the number of times Houston has gotten mad at me for digging into people’s lives—especially his. Though no one can beat Micah in optimism and cheer, my younger brother is one of the most happy-go-lucky people I know. Nothing gets to him, so when something has him bothered, I’ve learned to pay attention. Especially when that something is me.
I looked into Hope. I couldn’t help it. When I get that itch, that need to fix a problem, I can only resist it for so long before it starts to drive me crazy, and I was at my wit’s end.
Strangely, I couldn’t actually find anything on Hope, but I found the kids. The school records were a little too easy to access—I’ll let them know so they can get a better firewall—and there aren’t exactly a lot of kids named after video game characters in a little town like Laketown. Link and Zelda Duncan, six and seven years old, transferred from a school in Orlando. Their mom died about a month ago from an unexpected cerebral hemorrhage, and from the sound of things it was Link who found her on the floor in her bedroom when she hadn’t come downstairs for school. He alerted the nanny, who called 911, but at that point it was too late. Kids were sent to CPS, and from there I couldn’t follow the trail. Hope Duncan wasn’t listed anywhere, but she could easily have a different last name from the kids.
All in all, I didn’t learn much, and it only partially satisfied the itch. But now I know way more about my neighbors than I should. That’ll get me into trouble if I’m not careful, hence this being a problem.
Those poor kids. Especially Link. I sat in the hospital room when my mother’s cancer eventually took her away from us, and I was fifteen at the time. Old enough to understand what was happening. And it still gutted me. The twins were even worse off because they were only seven, too young to really grasp the concept of why she had to die. They were so convinced she would get better until she didn’t. I can’t imagine what went through Link’s head when he tried to wake his mother up, and I’m starting to understand why he’s so quiet.
Still feeling like I need to finish the rest of the puzzle—I seriously hate that I’m like this—I decide to go for a run before the weather turns too cold for that kind of thing. I change into shorts and a tank quickly and set out with Duke at my heels before my computer pulls me back to dig some more. Maybe I can blow off some steam and get over this insane need to know everything.
I think it’s a control thing. So much of my life was out of my control and beyond my abilities to take control, and that feeling of helplessness still haunts me now and then, like if I let things slip I might lose someone else I love. It’s not even like I’ve lost all that many people, but two is still a lot. I lost my dad first, when he got into some bad stuff and made the decision to cheat on my mom, and his life went downhill from there until he ended up in prison. Then Mom got sick, and I had to lose her slowly, piece by piece as the cancer wore her down to nothing. I guess I can count losing my siblings for a little while, when they went to live with Micah’s dad, Lloyd, after the judge denied my custody appeal. I visited them all the time, but for a few years it was like they weren’t mine anymore. Plus, Houston was getting into his baseball ego phase and was too cool for me, which hurt more than I’ll ever tell him.
I don’t like that the thing that brought my brother and me back together was a tearful phone call—on both our sides, I’ll admit—after he blew his chance for a scholarship his senior year when he showed up to a game hungover and got benched when he could have been playing for a scout. He thought his life was over, and I had to talk him down to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid before I could talk to Lloyd and see if he could use his influence to get Houston another shot.
My brother lost some pride after that, which was a good thing, but that didn’t stop him from becoming one of the MLB’s most celebrated players over the last few years. He’s got one of his last Series games tonight, and I have a feeling he’s going to pull his team to a World Series victory for the second time since he got drafted by the Sun City team eight years ago. If not tonight, for sure the next time he pitches.
I don’t know how long I’ve been running, but Duke is slowing down, which means I’ve gone too far. I come to a stop and force myself to take some deep breaths and stretch out my burning limbs, pretending that I’m taking this pause for the dog’s sake, not for mine. I’m getting too old to push myself this hard, which is as depressing as it is true.
In fact, Duke is still grinning as he sprawls out at my feet, happy as can be. He’s only seven years old, after all. I will never admit it out loud, but the only reason I got him in the first place was because Micah graduated high school and was heading out into the real world, leaving me without anyone to look out for. It was awful, I was lonely, and he and I made eye contact in the shelter. I knew immediately I needed to take him home, and he’s been at my side ever since.
Except now, apparently. Without warning, he gets up and trots off behind me with a bigger grin than before. Before I can turn to see where he’s going, a car honks, making me jump a mile in the air because it’s right behind me. I press a hand to my chest, knowing before I even turn around that I’ll find Hope behind the wheel, laughing at me.
There she is, a huge smile on her face as she hops out of the car and starts petting Duke the traitor. He could have warned me she was pulling up behind me. “Sorry!” she says when I pull out my earbuds. “I thought for sure you would have heard me stop. Did you run all the way out here?”
Whereverout hereis, it must be farther than I thought, though I don’t have my phone on me to see what time it is. Which, honestly, is pretty stupid of me, but I was determined to keep to my own business, something I would not be able to do if I had any kind of network. As I wrap my earbuds around my iPod, I glance down the street, hoping to see some sort of mile marker, but there’s nothing but trees. The one thing Idoknow is I ran in the opposite direction of town, so there’s really no reason for Hope to be out this way.
