“Why can’t we go now?” He shifted his gaze, his eyes ripe with a dare.
“What’s the rush?” she asked.
“What’s the big deal?”
“What’s with the attitude, kid?”
His shrug was not as surly as his defiance. “I told you—I wanted to see the house, Mom, but you went by without me. I’m not a baby.”
“I didn’t say you couldn’t see it.”
“Then let’s go now.” He cocked his head. “I want to get my globe.”
“I have a house cleaner there now.”
“How much mess can we make retrieving a globe?”
He was not arguing about a globe; he was asserting his need for closure. She’d thought that by going to the house alone, she was protecting Nate, but in reality, there was no foolproof way to do it.
“Okay, but we can’t get in the cleaning lady’s way.”
Shock widened his eyes. “I thought you were going to fight me about seeing the house. I had arguments prepared.”
She put the car in gear. “You’ll have to save them.”
“Why now? You haven’t let me see the house at all in the last year.”
“Might as well do it now. As soon as it’s clean, it’s going on the market.”
He did not press about keeping the house or moving back in, which led her to believe he did not want it any more than she did. But still, he needed to say his goodbyes. “Okay.”
She drove to the old house, wishing it were a hundred miles away. But in five minutes they were both parked in front of the residence. Maura’s truck was in the driveway, the garage door was open, and it was filled with at least a dozen packed green garbage bags and another ten moving boxes filled with books, dishes, and lamps.
“She works fast,” Ann said.
“I hope my globe is not in one of those trash bags.”
Ann shut off the engine. “Let’s go see.”
Nate waited for her to come around the car, giving her some comfort that he was not fully grown up. They walked up the sidewalk and through the front door together. She was grateful that the graphite powder had been cleaned off, all the shades and windows in the house were open, and a cross breeze had chased away most of the staleness. In the kitchen, a portable radio blasted out a country-and-western song.
“Whose radio is that?” he asked.
“The lady who’s cleaning the house.” Ann rounded the corner and was relieved to see Maura wrapping the dishes from the cabinet in newspaper. “Maura?”
The woman turned quickly, as if she did not expect to hear her name. However, her smile was bright and welcoming. “Hey, Dr. Bailey.”
“How’s it going?” Ann asked.
“Slow and steady.” Maura turned down the music. “I started in the foyer, moved to the closets, and then decided to tackle the kitchen. Good time of year to get kitchen items to the secondhand stores. New students are looking for dishes, plates, and lamps.” She grinned at Nate, turned around, and produced a Superman cup. “Is there anything here you want me to save?”
Nate’s eyes widened. “That’s my favorite cup.”
Maura handed it to him. “I thought it might be.”
“It’s okay if I keep it, right, Mom?” he asked.
“Of course, pal. That’s why we’re here. To retrieve whatever you want to keep.”
“Okay. Thanks, Maura.”
Maura’s relaxed grin spoke to her laid-back demeanor. “You’re welcome, Nate. Is there anything else you want?”
“My globe.”
“Still on your desk,” Maura said.
“Thanks.” The boy hurried along the hallway, his thudding feet echoing behind him.
“I should have this room cleaned out and emptied today,” Maura said. “I noticed you’ve left a lot of clothes, makeup, and jewelry behind. I did not bundle those up. Do you want any of that?”
“No. I packed what I wanted.” The blue stoneware dishes Maura was wrapping reminded Ann of the day she and her late husband had bought them. Barely out of college and newly married, she’d been pregnant with Nate. She had been drawn to the color because it looked calming. Foolish reasons to choose everyday dishes, but she had needed something to settle her nerves, which had been on overdrive since the day she and Clarke had exchanged vows. Even then, her subconscious had recognized her mistake.
Ann rattled her keys in her hand, already anxious to leave. “Do you need anything, Maura?”
“Nope. All set.”
“It all looks great. And thanks for wiping off the graphite.”
“Figured it’s not the kind of message to send to new buyers.”
Ann braced for the questions that always followed, but when none came, she allowed some of the strain to bleed off. “Okay, I’ll check on Nate.”
“Sure.”
As Ann moved along the hallway, she noticed the family pictures had been removed from the walls, leaving behind their shadowed imprints. She was not sure where Maura had put the portraits but was glad that they were not displayed for Nate to see. She found the boy in his room, standing at his desk and spinning the globe.
“It looks so much smaller,” Nate said.
“You’re bigger. A year is a long time.” She leaned against the doorframe, determined not to rush him. This would be the last time they came into this house.
As the globe rattled on its axis below a Power Rangers poster, he opened a desk drawer and removed a wooden cigar box. He studied the contents.
“What’s in the box?” Ann asked.
“Rocks. Dad always brought me back a rock when he traveled.” He rooted around and removed a smooth black stone.
“Where’s that one from?”
“San Diego. Dad was there for a conference in 2016.”
Clarke had been a firefighter and arson investigator for the city. He often traveled out of state to seminars and conferences and had become one of the nation’s leading experts on fire. Ann wondered what he would have said about the body she had seen on the ridge near Anaconda today.
“You should keep those,” she said carefully.
“There’s no fingerprint dust on the box.”
“Fingerprint dust?”
“There was some on my window,” he said. “Maura must have cleaned off the rest.”
“She did,” Ann said softly.
“You really think I should save the rocks?”
“Do you have good memories when you look at them?” she asked.
“I do.”
“Then you should keep them.” She laid her hand on his shoulder. “Your dad did love you very much, Nate. Never forget that.”
Nate closed the box and tucked it under his arm and retrieved his Superman mug. “This is all I want.”
“What about the globe?”
“It’s not that accurate. The sizing of the countries is not as precise as it should be.”
“We can get you a new one.”
“Maybe.”
When they reached the front door, Maura was carrying a box to the back of her truck. She waved to Ann and smiled.
Ann wanted to believe that life had shifted for the better. But as she looked at the house, she wondered if anyone could escape the past.