“Well, if you do need me, let me know.”
“I will,” I said with a nod, thankful for his support. Everyone had offered to help or go in my place, but Shane’s offer was different. He didn’t think he could handle it better than I would, and he wasn’t worried that I’d fuck it up, he just wanted me to know that he had my back.
“I’ve got a sleepy boy for you,” Kate said as she came back in the kitchen and handed Gunner to Shane. “If you let him sit on your lap, I have a feeling he’ll be you-know-what in about five minutes.”
We gathered around the table as the older kids trickled in, and spent the next hour listening to the kids tell me everything I’d missed since the last time I’d seen them. They were full of stories about school and the bus and weird things they’d found at the park. It was exactly what I’d needed to relax, and after driving for the last three days and barely sleeping, by eleven that night I’d fallen asleep fully dressed on the couch.
* * *
My good-byes the next morning were easy as the kids left for school, but it was always hard to leave Kate. We’d grown up next door to each other, played and fought and gotten into trouble like we were brother and sister. It felt weird to have her living so far away, even though she’d been living in San Diego for most of our adult lives.
The house Morgan had moved to wasn’t nearly as nice as the apartments I’d been at the day before. It was stucco, like most of the houses in that part of California, but the walls were stained, and the grass in the front yard was completely dead and fried from the sun. From what I could see, the place looked clean like someone was taking care of it, but it still had the worn-down look of a house whose tenants didn’t have much money for repairs.
I didn’t even pause as I walked up the cracked sidewalk and knocked on the door. After going to the wrong place the day before, I think a part of me hadn’t really expected an answer.
When she opened the door with her eyebrows raised like she didn’t understand why anyone would knock, I almost swallowed my tongue. I knew immediately that I was looking at Morgan, but I couldn’t for the life of me understand why I had the instant recognition.
“Can I help you?” she asked, not friendly, but not rude, either.
“Morgan?” I asked, cataloging her features. She was blond. Slim. No makeup, but she didn’t really need it. Her eyebrows were darker than her hair. Gorgeous.
She didn’t answer me.
“Morgan Riley?” I asked again, meeting her eyes in an effort to focus.
“Who are you?” she asked, closing the door a little and setting one foot behind it as if she was getting ready to slam it.
“I’m Trevor Harris,” I replied slowly. “I think you knew my brother Henry.”
I saw the recognition hit her swift and hard, but she didn’t immediately respond. Instead, she looked me over. It wasn’t assessing. It was more like the look you give someone when you haven’t seen them in a long time and you’re trying to pull up the memory of them so you can compare the present with the past.
Eventually, she swung the door open a little farther and motioned me inside.
“I thought I’d see you a lot sooner,” she said easily as I walked into her living room.
There were toys scattered in front of the television and a few odds and ends around the room, but for the most part the place was tidy. None of the furniture was expensive, but you could tell the owner took care of it. I breathed a little sigh of relief. The place was cozy.
“What do you mean?” I asked as I met her eyes again.
“After—” She cleared her throat. “I figured someone would come eventually, once they contacted me about that franking insurance money.”
“Franking?”
“I have a two-year-old,” she said, sitting on the one chair in the room and gesturing for me to sit on the couch. “And, look, if I didn’t have her, I’d give that money back. I wasn’t expecting it and I don’t particularly want it, but—”
“So you did get it?” I asked, my eyes wandering a little around the small house.
“Yeah,” she said defensively. “It’s put away for emergencies or Etta’s college. We don’t need it right now—”
“I’m not here about the money,” I said, cutting her off with a wave of my hand. I’d gotten off track. What she did with that insurance money was none of my business.
“Well, why are you here then?” she asked, her shoulders visibly tensing.
I wiped my sweaty palms down the thighs of my shorts. I’d always been the calm one in my family. I’d always known what to say and how to say it, and I didn’t even have to mince words most of the time. But right then, in that tiny living room, I wasn’t quite sure what to say or how to say it. So many words played through my mind, and I shuffled through them quickly, trying to find the right ones. I hadn’t expected her to let me in right away, and I’d known she’d be pretty but I hadn’t imagined she’d be beautiful. I was feeling a bit off-kilter.