“I’ve got plenty of projects to work on at the cabin. Place is a dump.”
He sat back, draping his big arms over the back of the booth. “Two shifts a week. Hunt, I know you know this is the right call.”
The waitress arrived and placed the sandwiches in front of us. I was hungry as hell and didn’t waste any time demolishing one of the halves.
“And it wouldn’t kill you to show a little warmth to some of the townsfolk. Maybe grab a coffee now and then, bullshit with the barista.”
“Don’t push it,” I said, wiping my mouth with the napkin.
He let out a snort-laugh. “Fair enough.”
We finished our meals, and Hugh picked up the check. When we were done, we headed out to the parking lot. Hugh stopped at his silver Land Rover, looking around.
“Nice place,” he commented. “A man could have a good life here, if he went about it with the right mindset.”
I said nothing as the cool, autumn wind picked up.
“Two shifts a week,” he said, slipping on his aviators. “You know it’s the right call.” He reached over and grabbed my upper arm, giving it a friendly squeeze. “I’ll be in touch,” he said. “Not a chance I’m going to let you totally vanish from the face of the earth.”
“Don’t I know it. See you around.”
He nodded before opening the door to his car, climbing in, and driving off.
And I was left alone.
Just how I wanted it.
Mandy
“Alright, Mom – geez.”
Parker looked so freaking adorable that I could hardly stand it. I’d taken him into town the day before, the two of us stopping by some of the local business and picking out clothes for his first few weeks of school. I didn’t have the money to go too crazy, but I wanted my boy looking right for his first day.
“Aw, let me take another picture.”
“You already took a million pictures.”
“Right, and I’m going to take a million more. Do you know how many times a mom gets to watch her son go to his first day of first grade?”
He scrunched his face, the question clearly throwing him for a loop.
“Just once,” I said. “And I want to remember it.”
Parker was dressed in a sharp pair of dark blue jeans with black Nikes and a blue-and-white striped button-up shirt. An Iron Man backpack was on his back. It wasn’t the full-on costume he’d insisted upon, but it was close enough to make him happy. With his fresh, new clothes and his hair slicked back, he was about the cutest thing I’d ever seen.
“Smile!” I said, holding up my phone.
“Like this?” With that, he screwed up his face, closing one eye and sticking out his tongue. Without thinking, I snapped a picture before I had a chance to correct him.
“Park!” I said.
He laughed, running off to grab a piece of bacon off the plate on the counter. My first instinct was to take another picture. But the longer I stared at it, the more I realized it was actually kind of perfect. That was Parker – cute and smart and rebellious. I decided to keep it.
But the longer I looked at it, the more I was keenly aware of the fact that Michael wasn’t there to share in the moment. Just another one in the long list that he’d never see.
It hurt like hell.
I cleared my throat and stood up. “Alright, time to go! Wash that grease off your hands and let’s get moving, cutie!”
“I’m not cute,” he reminded me, coming into the living room. “I’m tough.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, happy that Parker always seemed to know what to say to cheer me up – even without him knowing. “You will be someday,” I said. “But for now, you need to be a good student, and to make some friends. I bet there are lots of cool boys and girls in class who can’t wait to get to know you.”
His expression fell, nervous about the idea of starting new someplace else.
“Come on,” I said, taking his hand. “Let’s go.”
Moments later we were in the car, Parker strapped in to his booster in the back seat. I drove away from the cabin and onto the main road into town.
“What if they’re all mean?” Parker asked, expressing his fears.
“They’re not going to be mean,” I said. “They’ll be totally normal boys and girls like you.”
“What if they think I’m weird?”
“They are not going to think you’re weird.”
He was clearly frustrated about something and scrunched up his face for a long moment before letting it out. “Why do we have to live in the woods?”
“This is family property, and it’ll be good to be away from the city.”
The answer clearly wasn’t good enough for him. He folded his arms over his little chest and pouted. I wanted to correct his behavior, or at the very least reassure him, but before I got a chance a massive black truck whipped onto the road from one of the side paths.
“Hey!” I shouted as the truck cut me off, dust flying up into the air from its tires. “Freaking jerk!”
I slammed on the horn, the blare cutting through the quiet of the forest. And as the truck turned, I got a glimpse of the man at the wheel.
He was huge – that was the first thing I noticed. Even in a big truck like that he looked crammed into the seat. He was dressed in flannel, a massive arm hanging out of the open window. His face, from what I could see, was framed by shaggy dark hair and a beard.
But those eyes. He glanced at me, his eyes locking with mine for a moment that was brief but long enough to take my breath away. His eyes were a sharp, cutting blue, striking and brilliant.
The moment ended as quickly as it began. He pulled out onto the road and disappeared into the woods.
“Wow,” Parker said, clearly impressed. “Who was that guy?”
“A real jerk,” I grouched. “Who didn’t seem to give a darn if there was a kid in the car he just cut off.”
“That truck was cool,” Parker remarked, unconcerned by the inconsiderate driving he’d just witnessed. “You should get a truck like that!”
I chuckled. “Trucks like that are for people who need them. I don’t need one.”
“What do you think that guy does?” he asked. “For his job?”
The man had left an impression on Parker. As annoyed as I was about the guy’s asshole driving, it was cute how the bearded mountain man had lit up Parker’s imagination.
“I bet he cuts trees down,” Parker guessed, not waiting for me to offer my opinion. “He was really big – he could probably just grab and be like, argh!” He wrapped his arms around an invisible tree in front of him and, with a fierce expression on his face, pulled it out of the ground. “Like that!”
Bolstered by my laughter, Parker painted his picture, spinning a whole world about the bearded guy until we pulled in front of the red brick school building. Yellow school busses were parked at the curb, letting throngs students out to make their way up the stone stairs. Teachers were posted on the sides, watching the children and greeting them warmly.
“Alright, buddy,” I said, opening the back door for him. “Are you ready?”