“I don’t think I’ve slept that soundly in years,” Bartlett tells me, stretching out in his king-size bed. He’s bare-naked, and even though we said we weren’t going to fall asleep, I think after we made love three times we both couldn’t resist the temptation to cozy up in one another’s arms and close our eyes.
And I’m glad now because the idea of a day without sleep was terrifying. I don’t exactly want this man I just met to see me at my very worst.
We get ready for the day quickly – showers that lead to another round of sex – which, okay, I guess shower sex is just as fun as sex in his giant bed.
Then we’re in his truck again, Hijinx on a leash at my feet. We park behind his hardware store in his designated spot in the alley.
“I’ll walk you over to the police station,” he says, “so you can get your wallet.” Just then a flatbed truck comes through asking for Hammer Home’s owner.
“That would be me,” Bartlett says. “How can I help you?”
“I have a delivery, you able to take it now?” the man asks.
“Give me a sec.” Bartlett turns to me. “You mind hanging tight and we can go to the police station after I wrap this up?”
“I can get there, Bartlett. It’s literally one block down Cozy Court, isn’t it?”
Bartlett nods. “Yep, it's right next to the Home Cookin’. It’s a diner across the street. Are you sure you’re good?”
“Don’t forget I have my guard dog.” We both look down at Hijinx, who is sniffing the ground blindly.
I begin my walk down to the police department, taking in the town of Home early in the morning. Across the street, the owner of Home Made Bakery and Café is setting out tables and I can smell the coffee and espresso drinks.
Next to the bakery is Nested Home, the decor shop. There are flowers on display in the window along with beautiful candles and home decorations. It looks like the perfect place to buy a gift.
I cross Restful Road and pass the diner Bartlett mentioned. The booths are filled with plates of bacon and eggs and hash browns. Bartlett and I had oatmeal before we left his cabin so I’m not hungry, but I can imagine stopping there for a meal in the near future.
At the police department, I open the front doors and am greeted by a friendly officer at the front desk. Her badge says Darla. “How can I help you?” she asks.
“I’m looking for Officer Graham Rough? He has my wallet. He told me to stop in today to pick it up.”
“Are you Abby? Oh, you poor thing.” Darla stands, walking over to me. “I heard all about what happened yesterday. I cannot believe that is how you were welcomed to Home!”
“The day got better from there,” I tell her. “I met the Rough family and they invited me to Sunday dinner, so that made up for it all.”
Darla laughs. “Oh yeah? Dinner with the Roughs will do that. Annie and Red are sweethearts. Although the boys in that family are the biggest group of bachelors this town has ever met. Though the Rowdy boys over in Burly, well, they might even be less tameable than their cousins.”
“There are more boys in that family?” I ask her.
“Yes, and they’re all as handsome as the last.” Darla smiles then walks back to her desk and grabs a key. “Graham isn’t in until later this afternoon but I know where your wallet is. Let me grab it for you. I’ll be right back.”
A few minutes later I’m leaving the police station and headed toward the Home Run sports store, which apparently also serves as an electronics shop. I would never have thought that but Darla explained it to me.
I turn on Restful Road and take a right onto Snug Street and enter the sports store, with Hijinx on his leash.
“Hey,” I ask the grey-haired man at the register. “I was wondering if you sell any phone chargers? I’m missing mine.” I hand him my device.
“Sure thing,” he says. “Though your phone is pretty old. I didn’t even know people your age used flip phones anymore,” he says with a laugh.
“Do you have a replacement charger?”
“Give me a minute. Let me look in a bin in the back.”
I browse the sporting goods equipment and smile when I see the leotards and ballet slippers in one corner. It makes me wonder if there is a dance studio in town. I was never a dancer but am a gymnast at heart. I wasn’t formally trained but I can do all sorts of tumbling and gymnastics. It’s what I did under the big tent with my parents. I did more than tightrope walk, though that was my specialty.
The owner calls me over and tells me I’m in luck. “Found a charger, I have it plugged in right now. Want to leave it charging for a few minutes?”
“Yes, I feel lost without being able to listen to my messages.”
He tells me his name is Harold and that I don’t look familiar.
“I’m Abby and just came to Home yesterday on the train.”
“Well, if you are looking for a car, my nephew Dale works at the mechanic shop in town, and you can tell him I sent you. He’s an honest one.”
“Good to know,” I say. Harold tells me a little more about Home, and after twenty minutes of chitchat, my phone has 30% battery life.
“It’s enough to get me going. And I think my dog needs to stretch his legs.”
After I pay for the charger, he says, “Come again if you need any electronic or sporting good help.”
“Actually, I was wondering if there is a dance or a gymnastics studio in town?”
“Nope, not since Miss Daisy moved to Seattle. Shame, isn’t it? I still have all those leotards from when she used to teach dance.”
I thank him again before heading outside. When I get into the cold winter air, I wrap my scarf around me again and kneel in front of Hijinx, offering him a doggie treat from my pocket. “Here you go, good boy,” I tell him, giving him a kiss on his nose as he hungrily takes the dog treat.
Standing, I begin walking around the corner toward Tender Trail, where there is a bustling bike and walking path that several people are out enjoying. Again, it is hard not to feel like a fish out of water – like a girl who doesn’t belong.
Everyone here is so damn perfect. I look down at my scuffy boots and my worn blue jeans, tugging on Hijinx’s leash, leading him down the trail. “Come on, boy.” I open my phone as I walk, pressing a button to listen to my voicemails.
The first one has me stopping in my tracks.
“Abby, we know where you’re headed,” my father’s voice slices through the winter day, sending a chill through my body. “We’re coming for you. Don’t think you can run away; we are your family.”
I delete the message, listening to the next one. “Abs, not sure why you think running from me is an option,” Ricky says. “I love you. You belong with me. We’re coming to get you. It won’t be long now.”
Panicked tears fill my eyes, and fear winds its way through my belly.
Then someone comes up behind me, hand on my shoulder.
I spin, shouting, “Don’t touch me!”
7
Bartlett
“Abby,” I say. “It’s just me.”