She grabbed one of those ties she used for her hair and pulled her braids together, securing them at the base of her neck.
“Let’s get out of here,” she said. She took him by the hand as she led the way out of the bedroom. “We can take a tour of Fayetteville. It’s a pretty cool town with interesting architecture, if you’re into that kind of stuff.”
He was into anything that included her, especially on a day like today.
As was the case on this day for the past eight years, his first thought when he woke up this morning was that call from Drea, asking him to get to the hospital. He selfishly wanted—no, heneeded—Taylor to help take his mind off those horrible memories.
“Have you had breakfast?” she asked over her shoulder as they made their way downstairs.
“I’m not really hungry,” Jamar answered.
Once in the kitchen, she went straight to the walk-in pantry and came out with two squares of aluminum foil. She piled scrambled eggs and bacon inside two biscuits before wrapping them in foil; then she grabbed two bottles of orange juice from the refrigerator.
“I’m going to show Jamar around town,” she called to her mother.
“Make sure you’re back in time for our pre-party toast,” her mother said. “We’re doing a private one here at the house first.”
The front door opened, and Darwin walked in. Taylor took Jamar by the hand and exited through the side door just off the kitchen.
“I’m not up for a fight,” she said, handing him one of the biscuit sandwiches and a bottle of juice. “You may get hungry later,” she explained.
Taylor handled driving duties since she knew the area better than he did. She unwrapped her biscuit and placed it on her lap, eating with one hand while steering with the other.
Jamar appreciated the quiet. He appreciated her innate understanding that meaningless chatter would do him no good right now. He needed to just exist for a moment. To come to terms with what today signified.
They headed down Highway 210, straight into the heart of the city. She took him past the U.S. Army Airborne & Special Operations Museum so that he could see the unique, modern architecture of the building’s entrance, and then on to the historic downtown area.
“Are you up for a walk?” Taylor asked.
“A walk or a hike? I’ve known you long enough now to know a walk is never just a walk.”
Her lips tipped up in a rueful smile. “A little of both. The Cape Fear River Trail is nearby. It’s beautiful, even at this time of the year. Peaceful. I think you’d enjoy it.”
He captured her free hand and placed a kiss on the back of it. “That sounds perfect.”
Ten minutes later, she pulled the Lincoln into a parking lot surrounded by near-leafless trees. They maintained a comfortable silence as they set out on the trail, strolling along a wooden platform that snaked through the bare forest, walking underneath a covered bridge and past several gurgling streams with short waterfalls. Growing up in one of the flattest parts of Texas, Jamar rarely saw this side of nature.
A couple of joggers ran past them, but for the most part, they were alone. Taylor had been right. It was peaceful. It was exactly what he needed today.
After about twenty minutes, she finally spoke.
“Do you feel like talking about it?” she asked.
“I’m not sure there’s anything to talk about.” He shrugged. “Eight years ago today, the driver of a pickup truck hit my best friend head-on as he rode his motorcycle. A simple story with a tragic ending.”
Several oppressively heavy moments passed before Taylor quietly asked, “Was Silas an experienced rider?”
“He’d only had the bike for about a year,” Jamar said. By some unspoken agreement, they slowed their steps. Jamar backed up against the weathered railing and plucked out a yellowed leaf caught between the grooves of the wooden slats. He twirled it between his fingers.
“I still remember the day me and Silas picked it up. He’d saved up for that bike all summer until he was finally able to buy it from a junkyard outside Houston. We took his grandfather’s old Chevy to get it. I was scared the damn bike would fall apart before we ever got it back to Katy.” Jamar huffed out a laugh. “But he fixed it up, and by the time school started, he had it running. Big Silas wouldn’t let him take it to school, but as soon as class let out, he was on that bike, tearing up the fields near his grandfather’s house.”
“Fields? Isn’t Katy pretty suburban?”
“Yeah, but Silas lived with his grandfather out in the country. The only reason he got to attend Katy High School is because a friend of his grandmother’s allowed him to use her address. The administration knew he didn’t live in the district, but he was too good of a football player for people to say anything.
“Sometimes I wonder if Silas would have been better off going to Morton Ranch High. It’s possible we would have never met, which would have been better for him.”
He heard Taylor’s sharp intake of breath. “Why would you say something like that? He was your best friend.”
