Sara brushed her hair back from her forehead, but her hand shook. This was so hard. How long could she continue to lie to her little boy?
“Finn, I’m sorry.”
He didn’t respond, so she continued, “I made a mistake one night, but it gave me you and I’m not sorry for that. Can you forgive me?”
Wasn’t that sweet freaking irony, such hypocrisy on her part to beg her son’s understanding when she hadn’t forgiven Rem a single one of his many transgressions?
“I’m not even supposed to be alive!” He turned to her with an accusation that cut through her defenses. “I’m a big mistake!” he yelled.
His anger fueled hers.
“Stop right there.” She didn’t shout but she wanted to. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. Ever.”
Finn crossed his arms over his chest, but his fury seemed to seep out of him. His lower lip jutted forward, but rather than looking petulant, he just looked sad. “I’ll never have a father.”
She shook her head, unable to tell him “no” out loud. She’d come close with Peter Welsh in Bozeman, a sweet, smart, handsome doctor. But after that one night when she slept with Rem last summer, after he’d been stabbed, Sara hadn’t been able to sleep with Peter again. She’d broken off their relationship.
As much as she tried to forget Rem with other men, she couldn’t deny her feelings for him, even if she wouldn’t act on them.
It didn’t look like marriage was ever going to be in her future. So, yet again, she was on her own. Independence suited her just fine.
They turned down the road to the old Webber home. It had been vacant for more than a dozen years, had been for sale for ages.
This past spring, Sara had bought it.
She and Finn could live here, just the two of them, and not worry about having to depend on anyone else. Not emotionally, and certainly not financially. This little house was hers and only hers. She’d earned it and deserved it.
The property abutted Still Creek, and the spot where she and Rem had created Finn on a blanket under the stars.
Refusing to consider why it had been so important to her to buy this property, she turned and studied the house. A smallish bungalow, it would be more than enough for the two of them.
The siding was dirty, the wraparound veranda needed a coat or two of paint, the eaves troughs needed cleaning and the gingerbread appointments had fallen apart. But the bones were good. Just right.
She and her son had lived in tiny cheap apartments, some dingy, most crowded, none in the best parts of town. On the rare occasions that she dated and developed a relationship with a man, she never brought him home. Not to those places in which she felt no pride.
Now they had a house where she could give her son safety and a permanent roof over his head. It didn’t look like much but it was all hers. Amazing how proud that made her feel.
She pulled the key out of her purse.
“Let’s go inside,” she said.
She pulled the cleaning supplies she’d picked up yesterday from the trunk. Because of his broken wrist, Finn could carry only one pail filled with bottled cleaners.
She opened the door of her house and stepped in.
The rooms smelled stale. She could fix that. She could fix anything here.
As she walked through the hushed rooms and opened windows, the house breathed in fresh air and seemed to come to life. She could bring a spark to this place.
She handed Finn a broom. “Sweep up. I’ll wash the kitchen and the bathroom. Unless you’d rather scrub the toilet and I’ll sweep.”
“I’ll sweep,” he mumbled without cracking a smile.
The ancient bathroom fixtures still worked. One of the Webbers had fitted the old claw-foot tub with a showerhead and a track on the ceiling from which to hang a shower curtain. She hung the new yellow-and-mauve-striped curtain that she’d picked up in Bozeman before the move.
This house was hers. All hers. She hadn’t told anyone about it yet, not even Mama. This was her own private secret. In time, she would tell everyone, but not until she fixed it up the way she wanted to. Then she would throw a big party and be proud to have her family here.
She heard a sound in the doorway and looked up. Finn stood there with a scowl on his face.
“Mom, when are we going to move here from Oma’s house?”
“Soon. When I’m off work, I’ll gradually move over some of the boxes from Oma’s and then have our furniture shipped from Bozeman.”
“So, like, only you and me will live here? Right?”
Sara looked around. A fresh coat of paint on the walls would brighten the space beautifully.
“Mom, right? Only you and me?”
“Hmm? Sorry! Yes, only us.”
Finn stared out the window above the sink. “What is there to do out here?”
He’d stumped her. “We’ll come up with stuff. Anything you do at Oma’s can be done here.”
She was worried, though. With her working two jobs and Finn being supervised by only Mama, would he get into trouble, as he’d started to in Bozeman? He had no friends here. Who was going to fill that void when he finally did make friends? Good kids?
Or would he follow in his father’s footsteps? She refused to allow it.
“How am I supposed to become friends with kids in Ordinary when I live way out here?”
If she had to drive him everywhere, then she could control who his friends would be.
She packed the supplies into a hall closet. Finn followed her down the hallway like a lost puppy.
“Mom, are you listening to me?”
“Yes.” She couldn’t hide her frustration. “Don’t be so negative about this, Finn. Give the place a chance.”
Finn stomped out of the house and to the car. Sara locked up and followed him. Why did he have to question everything she did these days? Was this a lead-up to adolescence? If so, she was going to go nuts before it was over. Seriously. Stark raving mad.
On the trip into Ordinary to the Franck house where they currently lived, Finn fell asleep. Taking advantage, she touched his nape.
Such a beautiful boy.
It was her job to protect him and she took that seriously. When they got home to Mama’s, Sara spent the afternoon checking out every class, course and organized sporting activity around Ordinary and Haven, to replace that swimming course Finn should have been in three afternoons a week. She glanced at the calendar. She’d have to cancel the basketball league she’d signed him up for, as well. That left too many days empty—too many days he could fill with mischief—and there was nothing left to register him for.
CHAPTER FIVE
AT ELEVEN O’CLOCK THE following morning, an unforgiving sun followed Rem out of the house and to the corral where his horse Rusty ambled lazily, kicking up puffs of dust with his hooves.
What was taking Ma so long to get here? He’d expected her half an hour ago.
He’d already been out to the hospital this morning with a bag of nice clothes for her to wear home. He’d signed all the necessary papers, had packed up all of the cards the townspeople had given her. He’d found an elderly woman in another room who had no family and had given her Ma’s flowers. Then he’d driven out ahead of Ma’s ambulance.