Page 128 of 2204 Hunter Lane
The clock read: 9:54pm.
Everyone formed a square, sitting huddled against each other in the corner of the hospital. We didn’t speak. We didn’t look at each other. We were lost in our own minds, and I was a prisoner of mine.
But so was Hunter, my poor Hunter. My love. My heart. He needed to know he wasn’t alone, that we were here. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
What I would give to know what he’s thinking right now.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Hunter
April 22nd, 2017
“Don’t those beaded bracelets tug at your arm hair?”
I drove down Tintsy road, blaring The Rolling Stones with my mom riding shotgun. She had a habit of twirling those damn stones around her wrist ever since my dad bought them matching bracelets for their anniversary. Call it cute? I call it cringe. And painful. Probably fuckin’ painful.
“A bit. But I love it. Dad’s got good taste.”
“Or no taste at all.” I rebutted, rolling down the window.
The crisp night air caressed my features as it filled the truck with a gentle breeze, sweeping underneath my ballcap.
“What would you get a girl, then huh? And don’t tell me a deconstructed boat figurine.”
I laughed. “Why the hell not? It’s an interactive activity.”
“Smart boy.”
Picking up my mom from her evening spin classes was always the highlight of my day. It sounded dumb as hell, driving fifteen minutes down the road to get her when she was fully capable of drivin’ herself, but we talked a lot on these trips.
She was always helping my dad out on the farm and I was practicing baseball with my coach almost every day of the week. We hiked a lot, but the trek was tough and talking made it impossible to breathe up in the hills. This was our time, and I adored it.
“Uncle Glen got a new dog, d’you hear? Teddy. Big malamute.”
“At least he’ll have company.” I joked, thinking back to all of his failed relationships.
Honestly, it wasn’t a mean thing to say cause he even acknowledged the fact. He tried many different women out, but he was never the sharpest shooter. Always attracted the ones who wanted to settle down, he said, and for some reason, that saggy ball-sack thought he still got the tiger in him. Delusional, I’ll tell ya.
“You excited to play for Iowa?” My mother beamed, placing a hand on my shoulder.
I shrugged. “Sorta. It’ll be a change. Not like I wan’ go pro or anythin’ but, we’ll see how it plays out.”
“You love baseball.”
“I love home.”
I did. More than anything, it was my comfort, my safe zone. I had Josh, my family, a guaranteed job for my future on the farm. Everything was planned out for me, and disrupting that peace wasn’t something I jumped at the chance to do.
“Home’s never gon’ leave you, Hunt. Not even when you’re a million miles away.”
“Yeah?” I queried, throwing her a side eye. “You gon’ lift the farm all the way to Iowa when I miss home?”
A soft chuckle escaped her lips. “Home ain’t always a house, baby.”
It happened before I could stop it.
It happened before my foot could slam the break and halt the movement of my truck.
