“This place can never decide whether it wants to warm up or chill down this time of year. I’ll dig out a sweatshirt for under my jacket.” She tossed the sponge back in the sink, dried her hands, and took his arm to walk him to the door.
“Go soon to Slade’s. This close to Christmas, everyone will be buying.” He grabbed his keys from the hook. “Bye, love you.”
“Love you, too.” Her expression sent a shiver of awareness through him and didn’t make it any easier to walk away.
She followed him and stood on the porch. Her little wave caught him square in the heart. Their marriage stood on afoundation of love and respect – her for his life in town, him for the vastness of her art.
She’d come back with him when he’d gone after her, neither of them willing to lose the other. They’d made it work.
Yet the constant dread she’d find another project elsewhere sat like a brick in his uneasy gut. He tugged his jacket tighter as the December wind cut through him. In his vehicle, he let the engine idle while he reorganized the paperwork on the passenger seat—busywork to quiet the churn.
“She’s promised to stay home, and she keeps her promises. So it’s not me or us making her stay away.” Saying it aloud cleared the worry. This fear wasn’t him. Time to look at it from a different angle.
He pulled away from the house, tapping the steering wheel while following the thread of the truth that surfaced. “She doesn’t understand that it’s not her art pulling her out of town. It’s the tangle of anger and unfinished memories with her grandfather she carries like a ghost.”
She hadn’t made peace with the past.
The truth was she loved Echo Falls. It was why people bought her hometown paintings, each and every one a testament to her feelings.
And she loved him—steadfast, deep.
He wouldn’t let their marriage be a casualty of old wounds.
Still…
Loving her through the silence, through the struggle, left an ache that rubbed him raw. But she was the only one who could resolve the tangled emotions. And that left him waiting.
Or did it?
&&&&&&&&&
Tom parked his truck in the back parking lot and noted the chief’s vehicle was in his slot, too. He needed reports prior to meeting his boss to update. Before he got to the entrance, the door lock released and Bret Cara, his best friend, fellow cop, and brother-in-law, exited the building. Already in uniform with shift not starting until later in the afternoon, Tom wondered at his pace.
“Where are you off to?”
“High school. Incident in the crosswalk.” Bret paused at his side.
“Anyone hurt?”
“Not that I’ve heard, but I’ll know more after I talk to Principal Marsh.”
“Good luck.” He stepped aside and used his ID to spring the lock on the entrance. As the door shut behind him, he heard Bret leave the lot. He passed the locker room on his left and went through the dayroom to dispatch.
“Cara’s out to the high school.”
Norah swiveled in her chair. “Yeah, I marked him out already.”
Tom gave her the supervisor’s eye. “Why are you here? It’s your day off.”
“Jared got sick a couple hours ago and needed backup. I had no plans anyway. So no worries.” A book lay in front of her. A red mug with a white snowflake on the side was pushed to the side, empty and lonely.
Tom pulled papers from his mail slot. “Is everybody getting this flu bug?”
“Yep, seems so. I don’t want it, so stay away from me.”
“The feeling is mutual. Lopez going to be in for night shift?”
“Nope. He called in. He visited the emergency room this morning.”
