Nine
The hotel I called was a place Tish and I had stayed at before. It was clean and close enough to the farm and my old house that we wouldn’t have to spend a lot of time traveling between them. After checking in, I followed Breech upstairs to our room. He walked around, checking out windows and the connecting door. Once he was satisfied, he pulled his dopp kit out of his bag and headed into the bathroom.
I heard him moving around in there as I hung up some of my things in the closet. We worked together seamlessly, unpacking and settling into our place for the next few days.
“Breech, do you want to take a ride over to my mom’s house?”
“You want to do that today, doll?”
“Yes, I really do, Breech. It’s been over a year since Aden attacked us; I need to put it behind me once and for all.” He came to me, wrapping me in his arms. I rested against him, drawing strength from his embrace. Then, straightening my spine, I stepped away from him.
That day would be permanently etched in my memory, but now that the house was sold, I was going to empty it, throw out a ton of shit, pack up what I wanted from my old life here, and move on—finally.
On the ride over, I thought about all the good times we had as a family in that house. Growing up with Jameson as my big brother was what TV shows were built around. He was my protector, my babysitter, my cover-your-ass-with-Mom guy. When he went off to the Marines and Mom remarried, that’s when things went to hell in a handbasket.
I thought Aden was an okay dude at first. He paid attention to all the little things for both my mom and me. For birthdays and special occasions, there were cards and flowers—he even had old-world manners: pulling out chairs, opening doors, holding out his arm for us ladies to hold. Slowly, though, things began to change. I was busy finishing high school, starting college.
I closed my eyes to a lot of it. I didn’t want to see it. Typical teenage girl, thinking about myself and what I wanted and needed, subsequently shutting my mind to the truth staring me in the face. Aden killed my mother, but he didn’t break my spirit and he didn’t change my opinion of men. Jameson is a good man and if I needed a role model there wasn’t a better one. Everyone was telling me that Breech was another one of the good guys. Now that I am older I can see for myself that he is a man of integrity. And oh, man, he was hot on top of that—tattoos and muscle, with a brain and a big heart.
When we pulled up to the house, I sat on the bike for a minute. It looked like every other house on the block. You’d never know a violent murder was committed inside. As I sat there, it wasn’t my mom’s death I dwelled on; rather, pictures of happier times—me playing hide and seek with Jameson, riding bikes with Tish, dog-sitting for the neighbors to earn some money. Breech waited patiently while I got lost in my memories. He wasn’t trying to rush me, which I was grateful for.
Dismounting, I pulled the keys from my pocket, jingling them in my hands on the somehow-long walk up to the front door. Taking a deep breath, I inserted the key and opened the door.
The people I hired to clean the house had done a good job, because it smelled like fresh linen. Dust motes hung in the air; I could see them through the light filtering in around the blinds hanging in the window. The carpets were vacuumed, and the walls freshly painted. My eyes were drawn immediately to the spot on the floor were my mom died. There were no distinguishing marks, the furniture had been disposed of; it was just an empty room.
Walking through the living room into the kitchen, I noticed the floor was spotless; there was no indication that a table and chairs had even rested there. All the cabinet doors shined from waxing and the countertops gleamed, so I trailed my fingertips over the glossy surface, recalling all of the meals we made there.
Finishing the walkthrough, I found the boxes I requested stacked neatly in the garage. Pushing the garage door opener, it activated, and the door rose. Breech walked up behind me as I exited, following me as I strolled two houses down. Pulling the keys from my pocket again, I unlocked the front door. Tish’s house was in the same shape as mine. In tip-top shape, ready for the new owners. Her boxes were stacked in the garage as well.
I indicated the boxes. “I need to have these shipped to the 3rd Street house, along with mine, Breech, please.” He pulled out his phone, hit a few buttons and waited while the call connected. I wandered away from him while he made the arrangements, directing my gaze out the garage so I could watch the kids play in the street. Sadness overwhelmed me that my mom would never get to watch her grandchildren play. Tears shimmered behind my eyes then Breech’s arms closed around me, rocking me.
“I’m sorry, babe, I know how close you were.”
Sniffing, I looked up at him through my tears. “I miss her every day, babe, but I have Jameson and Tish.”
Tipping my chin up, he tucked my hair behind my ear, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. “You have me too, Jiji, and I’m not going anywhere.” Leaning down, he kissed me.
Happiness bubbled up inside me. I would always miss my mother, but my life was full of people whom I loved very much and one I was beginning to suspect I could fall in love with, if I hadn’t already.
My phone rang, startling me. A 315-area code popped up on the screen. “Hello?” I answered.
“Jiji Wilks?”
“Yes, this is she.”
“My name is Brom Hensley. Sandra Elliott gave me your number; she said you were coming to my farm to inspect the foals she needs transported.”
“Hello Brom, yes—she said you would be calling. Do you have a day and time in mind for us to meet?”
“Would tomorrow at ten am work for you?”
“Could you hold a moment, please? Breech, would tomorrow at ten work to get to the farm to look at the horses?”
“Ok by me, doll!”
“Mr. Hensley, we will be there at ten am. Can you please text me directions or at least the physical address so I can google it?”
After giving me the address, we chatted a few minutes then I said goodbye and hung up the phone. Putting it away in my pocket, I went back inside the garage, pushing the button to close it. We walked back to my mom’s house in companionable silence.
One of the things I liked the most about being with Breech is that he didn’t feel the need to fill every silence with words. Sometimes just holding my hand while we walked was enough. We drove through the little college town, found a little pizza joint, and had a couple slices while we talked about nothing.
I regaled him with tales of growing up here with Tish. He listened, laughing at some of the stories, egging me on to tell him how silly we could be as young girls, the boys we crushed on, the concerts we went to, the parties we crashed.
He was easy to talk to, and the afternoon faded to night. We ate dinner outside on a little patio bistro, and he told me some stories of being in the Marines with his buddies. I knew he lost some friends over there, and he didn’t say it, but I could see the darkness in his eyes when he spoke of that time. He told me about growing up an only child and what a strain it had been on his mom to raise him alone. He didn’t tell me to gain my sympathy, just as a matter-of-fact telling. He told me about meeting and getting to be friends with my brother, how he and Jameson looked after each other.
I asked him why I never saw him when Jameson and I Skyped every week, and he said it was because he didn’t want to intrude when Jameson and I only got thirty minutes to visit. The waitress came to the table with our bill and told us there was a carnival in town just down the street. Breech paid the bill, giving her a generous tip.
We strolled down the street to where the rides and booths were set up. Breech bought a bunch of tickets so we could ride the Ferris wheel and we beat each other up in the bumper cars. I laughed so hard watching him cram his big body into that little car. We had funnel cakes and freshly popped kettle corn. He won me a little stuffed polka-dotted frog. He slung his arm around my shoulder or guided me with a hand on my lower back, or just laced our fingers together and walked this way or that.
When the guy working the Ferris wheel paid a little too much attention to me when getting in and out of the gondola, Breech shut him down really quick with a death stare that had the guy stumbling over his feet to get away. I giggled behind his back but was totally composed when he turned around to take my hand and lead me away. But I couldn’t resist turning around and wagging two fingers at the guy, blowing him a kiss. His ears turned red, blushing to the roots of his hair, then he saw the scowl on Breech’s face and scurried away into the crowd. Breech drew me behind an open tent, pulling me into his arms and kissing me senseless.
When he came up for air, I asked, dazed, “What was that about?”
“Just reminding you who you’re going home with tonight.”
I smiled. “You mean the Ferris wheel guy?” I asked. He growled, and I laughed.
We walked through the carnival for a while more until the air got too chilly, and then we walked back into town and stopped at an old diner. Breech had some coffee and I had a cup of delicious hot chocolate. We snuggled in the booth, talking some more and laughing, splitting a piece of homemade apple pie. Driving home in the twilight, it was brisk, the scent of snow in the air. I crept closer to Breech on the bike, absorbing his heat. He patted my leg, driving comfortably through the countryside.
When we passed the turnoff for the hotel, I keyed my mic. “You missed the turn.” He didn’t answer, just dropped a hand to my thigh and squeezed. We sped on through the night ‘til he turned off on an old logging road. We bumped along for a bit where the road turned into dirt, and then we came out into this small clearing that had a breathtaking view of the town we just left. He pulled the bike into the clearing and turned off the engine.
I dismounted, removing my helmet, and stared out at the picturesque town below us.