Page 7 of Hearts on the Mend

“What’s the matter?”

“I lost Noodles. He’s gone.” Her eyes swell with tears.

“He can’t be far, honey.” A cool sweat breaks out at the nape of my neck as I peek around her car seat, my heart thumping against my chest. If her favorite otter stuffie was lost on our way here, it might be the last straw. I’ve managed to keep it together these past few months because I don’t have the luxury of breaking down, but I’d do some questionable things if that meant I could breathe the air at a seaside sanatorium like a nerve-racked Victorian woman.

“Thank fuck,” I mutter under my breath as my hand reaches around and finds the stuffie stashed between the crack of the seat and the car seat. “Found him!”

Ruby yawns, holds out her hand, then clutches it tight before she spins and cranes her neck to take in the house. “I’m not staying here,” she declares. “This place has ghosts.”

She’s not wrong. The farmhouse and attached barn look haunted, especially as they sit alone on this back road that seems to be forgotten by the rest of Merritt Point. The shingles are weathered silver, the large windows are black and lifeless, and the white paint is flaking off the clapboards.

“Aunt Ruth hasn’t mentioned any ghosts,” I assure her. “We’ll work on making it more… welcoming.”

“They were probably afraid of her.”

I fight back a chuckle, guiding Ruby toward the door, fishing my pockets for the keys. My aunt is an acquired taste, to put it mildly.

“I think it’s very kind of her to let us stay here.”

“Why doesn’t she?”

“It’s too big, and the cold bothers her.”

I wiggle the key in the brass keyhole, but it won’t budge. I slam my hip into the large wooden door, and it shakes before finally swinging open.

We’re met with a dark hallway and one flickering yellow nightlight.

Ruby peeks around me. “Nope, not staying here.”

My hand fumbles against the wall until it strikes against the old wall plate, and a light flickers on.

“How about now?” I ask. “Better?”

Ruby only snuggles Noodles tighter. I wish I had a Noodles.

It’s not any better.

“It’ll be an adventure.” I step inside and collide with a wall of stale, musty air. The wooden floor creaks beneath. It’s hard to tell the difference between outside and in, it’s so bone-chillingly cold. “We like adventures.”

I say it more for me than her. I know Ruby’s going to fight me every step of the way during this move. I don’t blame her.

Funny that Matt spent so much of his time putting out fires when the biggest one was at home. Our marriage was rocky at best before Ruby, but after she was born, it was clear we were expected to bend and mold to his life and schedule. After being gone for weeks at a time as a hotshot, he’d finally return, to go out for drinks or ride ATVs or whatever else he could find that was a reason to be out of the house.

None of this is easy.

I sure as hell didn’t want to be a single mom. And I didn’t think I’d ever set foot in Merritt Point again after having the best sex of my life with that man from Markey’s last March.

But that one night has been this ache I can’t shake off.

I close the door behind us, scanning the cracked plaster and peeling layers of floral wallpaper. The orange shag carpet on the stairs, worn threadbare in the middle over the years, and the chartreuse velvet armchair covered in thick plastic in the living room surrounded by stacks of books and old issues of Life and National Geographic.

It’s not mine, but for a while, it can be. Might not be easy, but I can handle it temporarily.

My aunt asked if I’d help get her house ready to put on the market, and in exchange, she’d give me a chunk of money to get back on my feet. Trying to juggle ER shifts and childcare is expensive, and I’m drowning because Matt is drawing everything out in court, making me hire lawyers instead of figuring everything out in mediation.

I thought he’d be amicable at least. Instead, he was bitter I wouldn’t quit nursing and stay home. Furious I wouldn’t accept whatever crumbs of affection he had left over for me when he did decide to play house. I was more a pretty thing to tame, with Ruby being his prize. But I’m not going to allow my daughter to believe love is meant to be transactional. And I’m done putting my life on hold for a man.

“We’re going to have a great time. You’ll see. This will be lots of fun.” I hold my hand out, and her small fingers weave between mine. I ignore the fact that they’re sticky from the hundreds of snacks she ate on our drive out here from Wyoming.