Page 50 of The Persistence of Thornes
“Don’t think I haven’t forgotten about you.”
With a groan, he rolls off the bed. His lanky body looks like it’s suspended in air for the space of a heartbeat, and just before I’m certain he’ll hit the ground, he catches himself and straightens. “Here.”
I look it over and hand it back, then pad back into the hallway. “Thank you. I’m going to change before we go. Meet you guys in the car?”
I shut myself in the guest bedroom and change out of my comfy clothes. No one sees me for either job, so why bother dressing up? I yank a pair of jeans on, nearly tripping over my feet in the process, then, because the air is beginning to get that crisp edge to it, I pull on a sweater and boots.
Last week, I got a second opinion on the water damage. According to the man who came out and looked, it’s not as bad as the adjuster thought. But it’ll likely still be two or three months before repairs can even begin.
The boys are already in the car when I step outside, theradio blasting. I slide into the driver’s seat and immediately turn it off.
“Are you trying to bust my eardrums?” I glare at Casen in the passenger seat, then Quinn behind me. “Maybe irritate the whole neighborhood? It’s like you want Thelma to storm over here and scold you.”
Casen snorts as I buckle my belt. “Like she would.”
“She loves us,” Quinn adds, a hand on each of our seats.
“Yeah, she and Cynthia gave us cookies earlier.”
I shift in my seat and frown at Casen. “When did that happen?”
“She waved us over when we got off the bus.”
Thelma and Cynthia are harmless, but it hits me that my brothers are one hundred percent the kids who would get fooled into getting into a van with an offer of sweets or kittens.
“Where’s my cookie?” I joke.
Quinn snickers at my shoulder. “You think we left any for you?”
Chin lifted, I grin at him in the rearview mirror. “I should’ve known better.”
Casen pokes my arm. “I saved one for you.”
I blink at him. “Seriously?”
He nods as I reverse out of the driveway. “Duh.”
A handful of minutes later, I park outside the grocery store and tear my list in half.
The boys clamber out, causing a ruckus that’s pretty standard for them, and Quinn darts for the cart corral.
“Divide and conquer.” I hold one part out to Casen. “But no adding anything to the cart that’s not on the list.”
“You got it, sis.” Quinn steers the cart inside, Casen on his heels.
In the vestibule, I grab my own cart and steer to the right side of the store. The total is probably going to make my stomach churn, but we’ve been eating Caleb’s food since the day we moved our things over and he insisted that it was silly to keep things separate. I shake off the concern, then double check the list, making sure I’m not forgetting anything before I head toward checkout, where the boys are already waiting.
“How about spaghetti for dinner?”
“You know we’re good with whatever,” Casen grunts in reply.
He’s right. They’ve never been picky eaters. Even when they were little.
As we’re loading the car, we garner the attention of one couple, but that’s it. We’re far less intriguing than we were when we moved here.Everyonewas staring then.
Though the day has gone smoothly, the whole way home, I’m hit with one concern after another about whether moving here was the right thing for them. After Mom’s sentencing, it felt like a good idea to put some distance between us and our past. But sometimes I worry that I was being selfish, uprooting them becauseIneeded a fresh start? I’ve always known that if I stayed in that town, I’d go nowhere in life, and for years, I’ve worried that the same would be the case for them.
I exhale, pushing away the concerns. The choices have already been made. Now all I can do is hope for the best.
