Two figures?
My vision blurred before I pulled down the binoculars and looked out again. I couldn’t tell anything from this distance and it creeped me out.
Whoever lived in that cabin could see everything of me, and all I could see of him was the little wisp of woodsmoke he created.
I never thought the top of the world would feel so eerie.
“When will the snow stop?” I asked the smart system.
“The weather forecast for the next ten days is snow showers with a chance of freezing rain.”
I groaned.
The screen blinked again, and this time I slid my fingertips across the glass. I swiped to what looked like a gaming dock with app options like virtual workouts and arcades and the relaxing sounds of a fireplace or rainy day. I tapped the workout option and jumped back when the entire screen became a virtual mirror of me. A tiny animated figure jogged in the corner as a timer counted the seconds. “This is so weird.”
I cut the app and the screen went dim.
I turned, crossing the kitchen to finish my beans when my toe hit the edge of Tav’s laptop bag. I’d just assumed he’d taken his laptop with him, the fact that he left the bag behind probably made sense since he was low on room in his rucksack.
I yanked the bag up to the table and the contents sprayed around my feet.
Paperwork. A wireless mouse. An extra charger and earbuds for his phone. His wallet.
Tav’s wallet?
Without thinking I opened it. The slot that normally held his identification was empty, and his main bank card was missing. Tav rarely carried cash, so the lack of paper money wasn't surprising, but the picture that smiled back at me through the ID viewing window gave me a shudder.
A picture of me, mother, and Chuck scrunched together in front of the church steps. I wore a white cotton dress with eyelets across the yolk and sleeves. Chuck’s thick palms crushed me to his side, and my ten-year-old face gleamed with the willingness to please. Mom stood under Chuck’s other arm, her palm spread across his chest and a happy smile filling her face.
I remembered this day well.
Another Sunday, this one after he’d been gone for months. She’d tried calling his usual phone number from the payphone in town because our little trailer didn’t have a working phone line. Mom liked it that way, but that’s only when Chuck was visiting often. The longer he stayed away, the cagier her eyes grew. Tension rocketed through the corners of the house when she realized he’d changed or lost his phone number and she may never see him again.
But it wasn’t long after that he’d sauntered up our front porch steps and gathered mom in his arms. She cried tears of happiness that Saturday night, and bright and early Sunday they made sure I was at church, my bottom in the pew while they clung to each other in sweaty sheets at home. I hated Sundays because they always picked me up from the church with hair rumpled by lovemaking and the scent of each other on their skin.
Mom was happiest when Chuck came around, and I was castoff like last night’s takeaway containers.
I didn’t know why Tav liked this old picture of me. He’d found it one day when I was digging through my mom’s boxes after her belongings had been shipped home. I was surprised to find she kept everything from my childhood. I was more shocked to find so many pictures of her and Chuck—some from when I was only a toddler through to my early teens, and then the pictures ended. I read through old letters he’d sent her, and imagined her writing longhand back to him. For the first time, it’d become clear that Chuck was the only man my mother had ever really loved. What was lacking in all of her belongings was any reference to my father, whoever he might be. I’d been hung up on the answers she’d buried with her, and Tav had snatched this photo and proclaimed I was the most adorable kid he’d ever seen.
I think it was the sad smile that struck him.
He knew I hated Sundays.
He just never bothered to ask why.
Sixteen
The First Sunday
“I know the baby isn’t mine.”
I woke up gasping, the feeling of Tav’s words choking the air from my lungs as well as if his hands were around my neck.
I blinked into the darkness, the first soft pink tinges of sunrise creeping over the mountains.
Not another nightmare.
I pushed my hands over my face, a night of tossing and turning, sending aches of exhaustion through my bones.
