“Good times,” he lied smoothly, backing out. “Sucked I had to go back to Montana, but everything happens for a reason, yeah? Probably wouldn’t be here now if I’d stayed back then.”
“And I wouldn’t have Finn,” I replied, looking back at my son. Finn grinned happily back at me. He was so fucking innocent, sometimes it made my chest hurt.
From the most dysfunctional, terrifying relationship had come the most sensitive and kind mama’s boy I’d ever met. He was a miracle.
“Where was I?” Jesse asked. “When you guys were hanging out, where was I?”
“Don’t know,” Curtis said thoughtfully. “With your grandpa, maybe?”
“Papa was the best,” Finn announced. “He could blow smoke rings.”
“No shit?” Curtis asked.
“Yep,” Finn replied. “And he could fixanything.”
“Grandpas are good like that.”
“We used to watch the monster truck shows, and one time he took me to see one live.”
“Was it good?” Curtis asked, relaxing into the seat.
“It was really loud,” Finn said, shrugging.
Curtis nodded.
They continued talking for the better part of an hour about all the things that Finn remembered about my dad, and I realized for the first time that he hadn’t really had that since we’d lost my pop. Jesse and I had already heard the stories or been there when the memory was made. Finn must’ve been dying for an opportunity to describe all the cool shit he andPop had done to a willing audience. In most ways, Pop was the only father figure Finn had ever known. I wished I had realized sooner that Finn was bottling up all the old memories, waiting for a time to let them out.
Finn described how, in the summer, my dad would sit in a lawn chair while Finn and Jesse tried to sneak across the driveway before he could spray them with the hose. It was a game he’d played with me when I was a kid too.
I didn’t even realize I was crying until Curtis reached across the seat for my hand. He gave it a squeeze in understanding that I appreciated, but when I expected him to let go, he didn’t. He just held my hand, his thumb rubbing back and forth as I tried to get a handle on it.
He didn’t let go even after my eyes were dry.
Chapter 4
Curtis
Teddy’s kid couldtalk. I wasn’t sure if he’d even taken a breath since he’d started telling stories. I listened, interjecting when I could, but I was pretty sure that my participation was optional. He would’ve kept going even if I’d never said a word.
We were over halfway home by the time his voice trailed off. By then, I’d been holding Teddy’s hand so long that it would’ve seemed weird to let it go. Considering she hadn’t tried to pull away, I figured she was cool with it. When I’d looked over and found her staring out the windshield with tears dripping off her chin, sympathy had made my throat tighten.
I couldn’t imagine losing my parents, and she’d lost both. From what I remembered, her mother had died when she was really little. Harv had raised her on his own. I couldn’t be sure, but I vaguely recalled Grandpa Casper talking about how Harv wouldn’t move north to work with us because Sacramento was where his wife was buried and the only home his kids had ever known. I was pretty sure Teddy had a brother somewhere, but I wasn’t about to ask about him until she brought him up. With my luck, he was dead too, and I’d just be rubbing more salt in her wounds.
When my phone rang, I let go of her hand and reached for it. Almost immediately, I regretted the decision when she pulled her hand back into her lap.
“Hey,” I answered, putting the phone to my ear.
“How’s the trip?” my brother, Draco, asked.
“Makin’ good time. About three more hours, I think. A little more if we stop for food.”
“Any company?”
I glanced in the rearview, but it was impossible to know if we were being followed. I’d been watching the cars around us, but we were on the fucking freeway in Northern California. The chance of someone else driving to Oregon wasn’t a small one.
“Probably,” I muttered. “All good, though.”
“Good. I got your house set up with what little you had in storage, but it’s pretty fuckin’ bare in here.”
