Page 57 of The Way Back Home
“It’s fine.”
“At least let me take you somewhere we could get a cup of coffee and something to eat. You didn’t have anything for breakfast.”
No, she hadn’t. If she’d taken one bite of anything,she would’ve thrown it right back up. “Just pull around back. By the delivery truck is fine.”
He exhaled, the sound laden with frustration. “I’m not leaving you at a gas station, Teagan.”
When he stopped at the light, she simply got out herself. He cursed, then pulled into the station. Before he opened his door, she was there.
“We had an agreement, Noah. Don’t make it harder than it has to be.”
His jaw clenched. His nostrils flared. The knuckles on the hand wrapped around the steering wheel turned white. “So, this is it?”
Teagan swallowed past the lump in her throat, fighting against the urge to climb back in the truck and tell him to drive them both far away.
“This is it,” she said, glad when her voice didn’t crack. “Take care of yourself, Noah.”
Then she turned and walked away, forcing herself not to look back.
Teagan quickly blended into the shadows—something that had become second nature. Even at the early hour, the town was busy with folks eager to get out of the house and catch after-Christmas bargains.
Within minutes, she was several blocks away from the intersection, slipping between the buildings like a wraith.
The small coal town hadn’t changed much in the last ten years. Once upon a time, she’d memorizedevery sunken window, every set of stairs leading down from the sidewalk, every alley that could provide shelter and safety. It came back to her now, as if she’d never left. With her hood pulled down low and her sunglasses on, no one gave her a second glance.
She only noticed the tears when her vision blurred, wiping them away with an impatient swipe.
Was Noah still at the gas station, or had he already moved on? She wasn’t sure which one she would prefer. She was half tempted to sneak back just to see, but it was better she didn’t know. This way, she could believe whatever made her feel better at any given moment.
Teagan found herself in front of a flower store. Red, pink, and creamy-white poinsettias dominated the display. The shopkeeper was hanging aClearancesign in the window, and before she realized what she was doing, Teagan was inside.
A short time later, Teagan stood in front of her mother’s gravestone. It was small and unobtrusive, bearing only her name and the dates of her birth and death, encircled with engraved Celtic knots.
It was humbling to see how someone’s entire life could be reduced to a minimal epitaph. The cold stone revealed nothing about her being a wife or a mother, about her hopes, dreams, or accomplishments. Just that for a little while, she had simply … existed.
Teagan placed the pot of poinsettias at the base and felt a crushing wave of sadness wash over her. Life could be so unfair. Her mother had been younger thanher when she died. Her life had been taken so early, robbing her—and Teagan—of so much. Yet in that brief time, her mom had managed to experience things Teagan hadn’t. Marriage. A child.
“Maggie?” came a trembling voice from behind her, breaking into her reverie.
Teagan didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. She fought against the instinctive urge to run. She was done running. Instead, she took a deep breath and turned around slowly, lowering her hood as she did so.
“Oh my God, Teagan—is that you?”
“Yes, Tony. It’s me.”
Her stepfather stopped at least ten feet away, as if he was afraid to come any closer. In his arms, he gripped a pot of lovely red and white flowers, his expression one of stunned shock.
Tony looked older than she remembered. What remained of his black hair was gray. Where he had once been beefy and strong, he was now gaunt, with deep creases etched into his face. Eyes that had blazed in uncontrolled rage now looked lost.
Had prison made such an impression on him? Or had he finally sobered up enough to feel regret over what he had done?
“I thought you were dead,” he said, his voice ravaged from too many years of drinking and smoking.
Teagan said nothing. For all intents and purposes, she had been. Running was no life. Always looking over her shoulder in fear. Never allowing herself to get close to anyone.
“You look so much like your mother.”
A tear rolled down his cheek, glistening in the pale morning light. Unmoved by the show of emotion, she stayed where she was. She’d learned too many hard lessons at the end of his fists to trust him again.
