Another reason I knew I could never be with Freddy—he hates animals as pets and he’s allergic to cats.
Anxious energy flows through me. I don’t want to just sit here all evening. I want tofindTom. Talk to him. Despite knowing the hardware store is already closed I drive past it anyway, including circling around the back to see if his truck’s there.
Nope.
He’s not at Alacea’s, either, because I can see through the front windows that they only have two customers.
That’s when it hits me—it’s book club night. Maybe he went there. But there’s no sign of his truck in front of Edith’s house when I cruise past it.
Well, darn.
I spend a few minutes driving around town and looking for his truck. Yes, I feel somewhat like a stalker at this point.
Returning to his house I find he’s still not home, although Jester’s now sitting in the window and watching me. I think about the keys in my pocket and know that’s a really bad idea. Tomas never revoked his standing permission for me to come home anytime, but it’s been…a while.
Yes, I let my heart override my common sense. When I slip the key into the lock, I feel relief when the knob turns. I already have the door open when I realize I don’t know if he’s added an alarm or not.
Guess that would be one way to get him home fast, though, wouldn’t it?
But no telltale beeps break the silence. Only Jester’s happymaowsas he jumps out of the window and runs over to twine around my legs.
I shut the door behind me and scoop him into my arms. “Hey, buddy. Missed you, too. Where’s Daddy?” I walk through the house as I carry the happily purring cat, happy to see no signs of someone’s presence other than Tom’s.
There’s only one toothbrush on the vanity in the master bathroom upstairs, and none in the second bathroom.
Everything looks achingly and comfortingly the same as it did that last time I was here, with very few changes.
Home.
I try calling him again after I go to the kitchen and look at his wall calendar where he writes appointments. This time, I leave another message. “Hey, please give me a call back as soon as you get this. I have some news. Good news. I want to talk with you. Love you.”
There are no odd appointments on his calendar for this month. Yes, I flip back a few months and find nothing more than haircuts, Jester’s annual vet check, and Tom’s scheduled oil change. He writes everything down on this calendar, because he checks it every morning while waiting for his coffee to brew.
Okay, then. So, where is he?
I find a grocery store receipt on the counter from this afternoon from a store up in Colley. So he’s not at the Pig—well, he wasn’t there when I cruised through the parking lot a little while earlier.
Where else could he be?
I mean, yeah, he could be with someone but I don’t want to let my mind go there.
As I walk back to the living room with Jester on my heels, I spy that morning’s newspaper on the console table behind the sofa. A quick flip through it, and an ad catches my eye for the Falls Inn.
Excitement fills me because I’m almost certain I now know where he is, and it’s no wonder I didn’t find him in town. Because he’s not in town.
I give Jester one last snuggle. “Hopefully I’ll be back soon with Daddy.”
Hemaowsat me as I carefully let myself out and make sure he doesn’t escape. He’s an inside cat and has never been outside. Not that I’m aware of, at least. I can’t imagine Tomas would change his mind on keeping the orange tabby safely inside.
Hurrying out, I lock the door behind me and make my way back toward Sarcan. It’s nearly nine o’clock when the Falls Inn comes into view around a turn and relief floods me when I spot Tom’s truck sitting in the parking lot.
Doesn’t mean he’s alone, but it does maybe explain why he hasn’t called me back yet. He might not even be able to hear his phone.
I can do this. I can do this.
I pause in the doorway and let my eyes adjust. They’ve rearranged things since the last time I was here. I peek around a new dividing wall in the entry and now I can see the little riser that acts as a stage. On it, Tomas holds what looks like a glass of liquor in one hand as he belts out a heartbreakingly mournful version of Elvis’ “I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry.”
I am a horrible person. I really am. I never should have left Tomas or Maudlin Falls. I should have stood up to my mother when she insisted I take this job and guilt-tripped me to hell and back about them paying for my college and law school tuition.
