Page 14 of Crow's Haven
I don’t know if it’s the same one from the clinic, but I’m sure as hell gonna find out. I park a few spaces over and jump out of my truck, telling the boys, “Sit tight. Don’t start nothin’. I gotta talk to someone.”
They groan but before I can tell them to pipe down, the music ends, and they start fighting over who gets to pick the next song.
The Subaru is sitting still. The windows are fogged just a little on the inside. I make my way across the pavement to have a look.
Up close, I spot her through the glass. She’s curled awkwardly in the driver’s seat, one arm folded under her head, the other clutching a blanket that’s covering her body. Her hair’s a mess, sticking to her cheek, and her eyes are shut tight. If I’m being honest, she looks exhausted and homeless. There is no movement when I approach. She’s alone and vulnerable.
I hesitate, then knock gently on the window. Hopefully, it’s not loud enough to startle her. Her eyes shoot open, and she jerks upright in the seat. Her expression is disoriented and half-panicked. Her eyes find mine, and I see an expression of recognition flash across her face. She clearly remembers me.
I raise my hands in a loose, open gesture. “I didn’t mean to spook ya.”
She stares at me for a brief second and then slowly rolls the window down a few inches.
“What do you want?” she asks hoarsely, like her throat is parched.
“Me and my boys are making our weekly grocery run and I noticed your car,” I reply, nodding towards the store. “I wanted to tell you thanks for helping my boy the other day.”
Her expression relaxes and she rolls her window down halfway so we can talk more easily. “It was a pleasure. How’s your son doing?”
I jerk my chin at my truck. “See for yourself. He’s right here.”
She smiles when she sees both of my boys hanging out the truck window, waving wildly. They’re making goofy faces and giggling. I scratch the back of my neck, hoping she doesn’t think we’re all batshit crazy.
I volunteer, “Wish I could say they ain’t always like that, but that’d be a lie.”
When she turns to look at me, her smile is genuine and larger. “I think they’re adorable.”
“We’re of like minds about that,” I say, leaning one hand lightly on the roof of her car. “I’m their dad, so my opinion might be a little biased, though.”
“He takes after his dad, brave and outgoing.”
I stand a little taller because she just complimented me.
“He wanted to thank you himself,” I say, glancing back at the truck. “Do you mind?”
Her eyes wander back over to the truck. They appear to be fighting over a candy wrapper until they accidentally rip it in two. Chase starts crying and Scout peels off one of his makeshift club patches and offers it to him. When they hug, I’m more than proud.
“They’re twins?” she asks, gazing up at me.
“Yeah,” I say, resting against the car. “Yeah, they were born five minutes apart. They’re rowdy and rambunctious, but they’re all mine.”
She chuckles faintly, and I like the sound. “My dad’s a twin. I look so much like my cousins that people used to think they were clones. Genetic déjà vu, we called it.”
I jerk my chin towards the blanket covering her body. “You sleeping out here?” I ask quietly.
“Yeah, but I’m fine,” she says too quickly. “Just needed a safe place for the night.”
“You wanna come and say hi?” I ask.
She hesitates, then opens the door and steps out, brushing her hair back with one hand, leaving the blanket behind.
The boys light up when she approaches. She gives them a small, hesitant wave to go with her stunning smile.
Scout immediately waves back with his free hand, elbowing Chase like he’s been proven right about something.
“Hey!” Scout says. “You’re the lady from the doctor place! You were nice.”
“I try to always be nice, especially when someone is sick or injured,” she says gently, crouching to meet their eyes. “You must be Scout. And you must be his twin brother,” she says to Chase.
