Page 25 of Gifts

Keelie

My phone dings from across the kitchen where I’m making lunches for the kids. When I look at the screen, my stomach does a weird tightening thing.

Then, maybe a flip.

Fuck. I’m thirty-five. My stomach should not be flipping. But it’s after nine and the kids are asleep. It was a busy day of Sunday brunch with my family, catching up on school stuff, running errands, dealing with the animals, laundry, and finishing the trim in one of the top floor bedrooms.

Throughout all that, I wondered if he’d actually call. He never did. But he just texted asking if he could.

Dammit, that’s nice. And thoughtful.

I finish cleaning up the kitchen and go to the family room to snuggle up in my favorite spot before I finally text him back.

My phone rings almost immediately.

After I answer, his first words are, “How was your Sunday?”

I exhale and close my eyes, thankful he can’t see me. “Busy. How was yours?”

“I don’t have goats and a donkey, so I’m guessing not as busy as yours.”

I open my eyes and smile. “It’s not a competition, you know.”

“My house is brand new. I don’t even have anything to paint.”

I smile bigger. “That sounds like heaven.”

“I also don’t have your view of the hills, your forest, or your privacy. You win.” I hear his smile come across the phone and think about his dark hazel eyes. “Before we get to the good stuff, I’ve got some news.”

I bite my lip wondering what the good stuff entails. “What news?”

“Ritchie isn’t Ritchie. Ritchie is Raymond Wallace.”

“Really?” If the license plates were stolen, I wonder who his contacts are for him to get this kind of information. “You know this for sure?”

“I’m looking at his mug shot.” I hear paper rustling in the background and he keeps talking. “He’s got priors for dealing and has a warrant out for his arrest for violating his probation. He’s twenty-two.”

“Well, where is he?” I ask.

Asa’s smile comes back across the phone and he almost sounds amused when he lowers his voice. “One step at a time, baby. I only learned his real name twenty minutes ago.”

My breath catches at his endearment. It’s been a long time since anyone addressed me as anything besides Keelie, Mommy, or Ms. Lockhart, and Stephie addressing me as hey bitch definitely doesn’t count. It’s been way more than two years, that’s for sure.

“Oh, sorry.” I try to sound normal, but it’s a big, fat fail. And there goes my stomach again.

“Like I said, they’ve got a warrant out for his arrest. My guess, they’re not actively looking for this guy, but if they happen upon him, he’ll be locked up. First thing tomorrow morning, I’m calling his parole officer to see what I can find out.”

“Thank you. I know in a school the size of ours, we can’t expect every student to be completely clean, but with what happened last fall, we need to be extra vigilant.”

“The wreck?”

“Yes,” I confirm. “Do you know the details? The students are still reeling.”

It’s become known as the wreck, because any other way to describe it is just too morbid. Two seniors, Brandon Sutherby and Kyler Jakes, left school unexcused in the middle of the day, and after driving recklessly, lost control and swerved off a country road. No one knows if they survived the crash itself because the car burst into flames.

I’ve only been a school counselor for four years, but the death of those students was the worst thing I’ve ever dealt with in my job. I pray it never gets harder than that.

“I know all about it,” Asa answers. “The kids weren’t with me yet, but we were in the process of making that transition. Levi wasn’t exactly friends with them, but he knew them. Emma said she didn’t know the boys, but she was shaken up. I think it was an eye-opener for them all.”

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