Page 22 of Cursed Bonds: An Alpha's Destiny

He took another deep, contemplative breath. “We were always moving around, bouncing from place to place. Dad never questioned it, either, just nodded his head and went along with it. We never went anywhere interesting, either. Always ended up in podunk towns in the middle of nowhere. Every damn place was shoved back in the woods. It’s part of why I hate the outdoors as much as I do. We only ever stayed in one place for three or four years at most, then we’d pack up and move someplace else. She’d leave for weeks at a time, too, always going back to Crestwood to stay at what she called her ‘home place.’ Me and Dad never went on those trips.

“Anyway, we finally stayed in one spot right after Dad died. Once I hit eighteen, I signed up for the army and never looked back. Mom stayed in that town for several years, then moved on again. I think she moved someplace else until you were born. Then, boom! She moved again to be close to you.”

I didn’t say a word, letting him get it all out. These were the most words I’d ever exchanged with my father, in, lord, maybe ever.

“I’ll tell you what. I had a lot of resentment toward her,” he said.

“Resentment? Why?”

“Think about it, kiddo. Imagine you’re a little boy, no siblings, and every year or two, you have to pack up and move somewhere new. I could never make any real friends. It felt like I was homeless even though we always had a house. Dad was really distant, too. As I got older and started to understand things, I always thought maybe he was, you know, having fun with other ladies while Mom was off doing God knows what in Crestwood. It wasn’t a really healthy childhood is what I’m saying. The worst part is I never got any closure on why we did that.”

“So she never spent a lot of time in this cabin?” I asked. “She never moved back here full-time? Even after your father died?”

“Not that I know of. Like I said, it was always sporadic. Sometimes only a day or two, sometimes a week. Again, it was weird.”

Very strange. Nana had only ever taken me to the cabin during summer when I was out of school. It had been like clockwork. The last time we’d come here, I was sixteen. After that, it was like Nana was over the place. She’d settled down in one spot after that, not moving until her diagnosis.

Why had she kept the cabin, though? Why hold on to a place if you didn’t want to go there? Hell, the property taxes alone should have been reason enough to get rid of it.

“This has been nice, Dad,” I said, and for once, it was the truth. He could be semi-pleasant when he wasn’t drunk, high, or hungover. “I’ll let you—”

“Hang on,” he cut in. “One more thing. I was thinking about it this morning, and I have no clue what it means, but I wanted to pass it on.”

I raised an eyebrow. I really hoped he wasn’t about to ask me for money or something and ruin what had been a fairly pleasant conversation.

“What’s up?”

“It was a conversation I had with Mom—er, your nana. About six weeks ago, right when she was at her sickest.”

That was a surprise. When the hell had Dad talked to Nana? He had to have visited when I wasn’t with her. I’d had the impression they’d basically been no contact for the past five years at least.

“Go on,” I said.

“I’m not sure if this will make sense to you. She was pretty gone on pain meds,” he said. “She was really worried about you. I couldn’t get her to tell me what was bothering her. All she kept saying was that she—meaning you—would need him. That you would need him. At first, I thought she was trying to guilt trip me. Like she was talking about you needing me when she passed, but then she went on and on about this guy, whoever he is, being in Crestwood. I’d never been there, so I sort of dismissed it as the ramblings of a dying woman, you know. Kinda shitty of me, I know. And I never thought to tell you the other day when you came by.” He cleared his throat. “I was, er, still a little out of it that day,” he said uncomfortably. “But now that you’re in that place, I thought you should know.

“She was really upset about it and told me she planned on telling you everything the next time you visited,” he continued. “I have no clue what the hell she meant by everything, though. Maybe… ugh, maybe she had a lover or something in that town she never told anyone about? Gross to think about, but maybe that’s what she meant? Some super-secret husband or boyfriend none of us knew about? Did she ever tell you what she meant?”

If it was six weeks ago like he’d said, then it would have been right before Nana lost her ability to communicate. They’d had to give her more and more drugs in hospice to keep the pain at bay. She wouldn’t have been able to say anything to me. But if it was so important, why would she wait until right before her death to tell me something?

“She never did, no,” I said. “I doubt it was a boyfriend, Dad. That’s something she wouldn’t have been able to hide. Plus, if she had someone, they would have checked in or visited while she was sick. I don’t think that’s what she meant.”

“All right, then. I passed it along. Maybe you’ll meet someone down there who can give you more insight, but I had to get that off my chest. I’d have regretted it or something if I didn’t tell you. Anyway, are you staying safe?”

“I am. I’m good. I’ll only be here a couple months at most, then I’ll be home. “

“Sounds good.” There was an awkward pause as I waited for him to say more. Then he finally spoke again. “Welp, I guess I’ll talk to you later.”

And with that, he hung up.

“Wow. Love you, too, Dad.” I sighed as I put my phone down.

Now that the sink fiasco was taken care of, the big job could start. Since arriving, I’d been sleeping in my old room, not wanting to go into Nana’s bedroom, but today was the day. There were lots of boxes in there, some looking as old or older than my father. No amount of cleaning or repairing would be as emotionally exhausting as going through all of them. Deciding what would be thrown out, donated, or come home with me—how did one do that kind of thing? Dig through the remnants of someone’s life and pick and choose what was or wasn’t important?

There was a bottle of wine in the fridge I’d picked up that morning in Scottsdale, but it was best to tackle Nana’s room with as clear a head as possible.

As soon as I stepped into her room, I caught a whiff of my grandmother’s smell. It shouldn’t have lingered after all these years, but it was there. Lavender, lilies, and an underlying pleasant scent of woodsmoke. Memories flooded into my mind, all brought forth by that fragrance. I’d read somewhere that the sense of smell was the one that was most closely tied to memory, and those first few seconds in her room confirmed it.

The cabin was small, but the master bedroom was decent-sized with a spacious walk-in closet, which was where most of the stuff I needed to go through was stored. It took a few moments of staring at everything before I decided where to start. The only lights in the bedroom were the two lamps on either side of the bed, so I hauled all the items out to the living room, where the better lighting would help me see what the hell I was doing. My back ached as I set down the last box, and I cursed not having someone else here to help.

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