The Hero's Redemption
Usually, he tried to have a decent breakfast—eggs and toast, or at least cereal. Today, he used a cup of coffee to wash down a couple of too-dry, powdered sugar donuts. Then he picked up his keys, startled for an instant when he remembered one of them was for Erin’s front door.
He’d be returning both of them soon. That knowledge gave him a pang. Being handed the key to the apartment had meant a lot to him. Privacy, independence. Strange that he could’ve accepted the house key from Erin without marveling at the trust involved. Two keys, two gifts, neither of which he could keep.
Shaking his head, he stuffed them in his pocket, and jogged down the stairs and up to Erin’s front door. He rang the doorbell, and heard the chime inside. Followed by…nothing. No lights, no footsteps, no voice.
If she’d had as crappy a night as he had, she might be sleeping in.
He wished he believed that.
He went to the garage to collect what he’d need to install shingles on Del Wagner’s porch roof. When he was done, he’d go talk to Lottie Something. Reluctant as he’d felt, Cole had calculated how much money he’d come out of it with and realized he couldn’t turn down the job. It would give him a little time to hunt for a five-day-a-week job and a room for rent.
Another gift from Erin, one he might resent, but had needed. And she’d known that.
He’d try to catch her at lunchtime. She couldn’t hide forever.
* * *
ERIN MANAGED TO ignore the ringing doorbell for the rest of the day. Working on the house would have meant sneaking out to the garage for paint and supplies, so instead she settled at the kitchen table with her laptop to do research. She started by looking for psychologists within a thirty-mile radius who had expertise in working with victims of trauma. She didn’t put much stock in online reviews for counselors, but she did note specific comments as she made a list.
From there, she browsed job listings, just as Cole had probably been doing, only for herself. If she didn’t start working at least part-time once he left, she thought she might really go nuts. College teaching was out. If not forever, certainly for now. She didn’t have elementary or secondary teaching certification, but talking to Michelle had reminded her of all the other jobs available in schools, and this was probably the right time of year to apply for positions open in the fall. She’d be okay working with younger children.
The county-wide public library system seemed to have regular openings, too. Continuing to browse, she discovered that the city of West Fork was looking for people to teach recreation department programs for the summer. Mostly fun stuff, some computer classes, art for all ages—and sports. Her gaze seemed to freeze on the listing for volleyball.
The next thing she knew, she’d opened the school district website. Feeling as if she was slipping surreptitiously into enemy territory, she read about the high school girls’ sports programs. They did have both volleyball and softball. The volleyball team had a disastrous record. She couldn’t imagine the league was that tough. Probably the team was so bad girls with any athletic ability went out for other sports. Erin couldn’t help wondering who coached it. A teacher who wanted the bump in her paycheck? Or someone who’d been guilted into taking it on despite zero experience, because otherwise the girls wouldn’t have a chance to play at all?
Could I?
Even the timid question was enough to throw her into a panic. No, no. Never again. Or at least…not yet.
How could she step foot in a gymnasium without being deluged by memories? Wouldn’t that be terrific—new volleyball coach midcourt in a catatonic state? Or shouting about ghosts and running for her life?
Back to the public library. She could shelve books, help with research questions, quiet noisy kids and encourage shy ones. Many of the jobs that didn’t require a master’s degree in information science were part-time, but that was all she wanted for now, anyway. The pay wasn’t great, either, but money wasn’t an issue yet. Just getting out there, meeting people, feeling useful and involved, was what she needed. Preparing to rejoin the human race.
When the doorbell rang again at seven thirty, she closed her laptop and tried to convince herself she ought to eat something.