Page 20 of Make Me Trust Again
“He asked us if he could take an ASL class so he could get better at talking with his hands. So Blake will be taking him twice a week over the summer.”
My throat grows tight at Savannah’s words. I can’t even begin to explain to her how much this means to me, to Kyle. Yes, he can read lips and interact with people, but it is rare to have people who are willing to go that extra mile and learn how tospeak his language. Levi is one of those rare gems. He is trying so hard, and I love him for it.
“That’s amazing.”
Both boys turn around, and I wave Kyle over before he can dash away with his friend.“Be good for Miss Parker, okay?”
Okay. I love you.
I love you, too.
The two boys slip into the house, and I turn to Savannah. “Two hours, okay? If you want some peace before that, just call me. I mean it.”
“That’s fine.”
Nodding, I start to pull back, but then I remember. “Hey, I have a question. Do you know if maybe your old place was fixed?”
Last year, Savannah had decided to move into her grandmother’s house after the cottage she lived in flooded badly to the point they had to do some serious renovations, but maybe if it was fixed…
Savannah’s brows pull together in confusion. “I think I heard recently that Mr. Miles sold the cottage. Why?”
“Dang it.” So much for my luck. “I’m looking for a place for me and Kyle. I’ve been staying with my parents since the divorce, and well… My options in Bluebonnet are limited.”
“Oh, I know all about it.” There is sympathy on her face as she gives me a small smile. “I’m lucky that Grams left me this house because I don’t know what I would have done otherwise. If I hear something, I can let you know.”
“Thank you. I’d really appreciate that.”
Was I going the right way?
It’s been ages since I wandered down this road, but I was pretty sure I was going in the right direction. Was the house always this far away?
Back in high school, we’d often come here. Just as you were leaving Bluebonnet, there was a small gravel road that led out to the ranches where the Santiagos, Fernandezes, and Williamses lived, surrounded by acres of land and woods. There, in the middle of it all, on Santiago land, was a small pond where Emmett invited us to party and swim during the summer.
Finally, I see another road connecting to the main one. Sighing in relief, I take a turn and follow the path until a big two-story farmhouse comes into view.
Pulling to a stop, I kill the engine and let out a shaky breath as I stare out the windshield.
The house is beautiful, with its almost creamy walls, dark brown shutters, and fence around the front porch—although a bit rough around the edges. Some of the color is peeling off at certain places, and there is a little rose garden planted in front of the porch, but it looks sad, as if nobody takes care of it. Still, there are a few rosebuds there. They are small, but they aren’t giving up.
I stare at those flowers for way too long, feeling a strange kinship with my namesake.
Shaking my head at myself, I push open the door and slide out, only to be greeted by the silence that has me pausing.
Granted, Bluebonnet Creek is a small town, and nobody could say it’s bustling with activity and noise, but there was a stillness here that even I wasn’t accustomed to.
Maybe he wasn’t home?
The driveway was empty, but that didn’t mean anything since this place was huge, and there was a gravel road that led to the back of the house, where, if I remember correctly, there was abarn. Rebecca’s family used to own a ranch, most of which was sold after her father died in a car accident when we were kids.
I should have probably called, but it’s not like I had his number, and I had a feeling that even if I did, he’d tell me not to bother, still… My mother raised me better than that.
Leaning over the driver’s seat, I grab the plate from the passenger’s side and close the door.
I scan the space as I make my way up to the porch. The wood creaks softly under my weight as I climb the steps. There is a swing on the porch along with a little table, but there are no cushions or pillows to signal anybody is actually using it.
I shift the plate in one hand, my palms clammy with nerves.
Just get it over with,I chastise myself, and ring the doorbell.
