Something behind my breastbone burned.
Knew it would be a long time before that image left my mind.
TWENTY-THREE
Miranda
Compared to Chris’ tiny yard, Jack’s was a paradise. By the time we came down for breakfast, Jack was long gone. So we had a quick bite and went out to explore. The backyard had a chain link fence and a few large maple trees rustled in the breeze.
The person who lived in this home prior to Jack must’ve put their fair share of time into the yard, because beautiful shrubs lined the back fence. Some of the branches needed to be clipped back. Jack admitted he did nothing in the yard besides mow.
An old swinging bench sat in the far corner by two raised garden beds. The beds grew grass and not much more. Kacey ran through them, and went to jump on the bench.
“Kacey, wait!”
He slowed up and looked back at me.
“We need to make sure that can hold you. It’s probably very old.”
We drew closer and tested its structure. Looked sturdy enough. I swiped my hand over the worn wood, green with pollen. When we carefully eased our weight onto it, the bench creaked, but rocked and held us up. I made a scared face as the wood groaned beneath us, and Kacey giggled. After that, we rummaged through the shed in the back. There wasn’t much to see except for paint cans in the corner and two old garden rakes. I figured they belonged to the former owner.
As Kacey ran off to play, I sat on the bench again and pulled out my phone to restart a job search. But a peppy whistling jerked my attention into the neighbor’s yard. An elderly man hobbled out his back door. He was tall, thin, and bent forward. A straw hat and overalls gave him a farmer-like appearance.
Being the social butterfly he was, Kacey ran up to the fence. He stuck his hand through the chain link and waved. “Hiiii!”
The man looked over. “Well, hello there young man!” He regarded me, his voice raspy with age. “And you, young lady.”
I hoped he wouldn’t linger, but Kacey immediately launched into a story about his Hot Wheels. The elderly gentleman slowly strode over to the fence to hear Kacey’s story. A soft sigh escaped my lips as I rose and headed into the conversation too. I wished I bothered to put make-up over my fading bruise since I was going to be forced to talk to a stranger.
The man was kind. He listened to Kacey’s rambling for several minutes before he turned to me. “My name’s Richard.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Miranda.”
“And what’s your name?”
Kacey held up a car. “His name is Bone Jig-gah.”
Richard looked confused.
“Tell Mr. Richardyourname.”
“Oh! Tacey!”
“It’s Kacey,” I confirmed.
Richard smiled. “Well, pleasure to meet you Kacey and Miranda.” He pointed toward Jack’s house. “Jack is a nice fella. He’s helped this old geezer”—he patted his chest—“now and again.” Dark brown eyes studied my face and the temperature in my cheeks raised a few degrees. Hoped my bruise wasn’t too noticeable. “Are you two family?”
“Uh, well, we are…” I stammered for words, unsure how to answer that question. “Friends, actually. He is letting us stay with him a while.”
Richard nodded.
Changing the subject, I pointed toward his garden. There were flowering shrubs, vegetable beds, and climbing flowers on trellises. “You have a lovely yard. It must’ve taken years for it to look that way.”
“That it did. The magic maker was my wife.” He winked at me. “She passed four years ago, but I’m still reaping the benefits.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. She gave me sixty-one wonderful years and five beautiful sons. Now I have fifteen grandchildren.”
