Page 77 of Where We Call Home

When the tears were gone, we sat there on my bed. He started telling me about his day, about some silly thing that happened at work. I listened, my head resting on his chest, his voice soothing me like it always did.

I don’t know what I’d do without him.

Twenty-Eight

Sleep hit me like a bat cracking against a hundred-mile-an-hour fastball. When I say I was down for the count, I mean there was no waking me.

Rhodes, ever the gentleman, brought me grilled cheese and tomato soup in bed. I devoured the meal, then spent the rest of the night alone—my request. He had offered to stay and keep me company, but I politely declined. As much as I was opening up to sharing, my need for alone time ran deep. I was a loner at heart, recharging best in solitude.

I loved my friends, but my true peace often came in the quiet company of myself.

Rhodes understood and left me to indulge in an unhealthy amount of reality TV without so much as a raised eyebrow. Before heading to bed, he popped his head in to check on me, catching me mid-battle with a fistful of Oreos. No judgment, just a simple smile and a soft goodnight.

However, this morning, the house was eerily quiet.

I woke up to find Rhodes nowhere in sight. It was strange. He had the day off, and I half-expected to see him in his usual spot in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a cup of coffee in hand.

Stretching my arms above my head, I rolled my neck and shuffled toward the front door. I grabbed my flannel jacket, deciding to check outside.

The November air was crisp, biting against my skin as I stepped out. My slippers scraped against the concrete as I waddled toward the driveway, where the boys had left my car after towing it home yesterday.

In the meantime, I’d left a voicemail at Gus’s shop, detailing the problem and asking him to call me back. I was anxious to get Betsy in for a tune-up sooner rather than later.

As I approached the car, something caught my attention—the hood was still up.

Did they leave it open all night?

I took a few more steps, and that’s when my heart stopped.

Rhodes was bent over in the driver’s seat, tinkering with something.

My vision blurred, and my feet rooted themselves to the ground.

Panic surged through me, sharp and overwhelming.

“What... what are you doing?” I blurted, my voice shaky, not directed at anyone in particular.

Rhodes stood up, wiping his hands on a towel before flinging it over his shoulder. He chuckled. “Good morning to you, too.”

I repeated myself, this time more firmly. “What are you doing?”

He hesitated, sensing my unease. “I thought I’d take a look under the hood, see if it was something I could fix.”

Rhodes stood in front of me, wearing his flannel jacket, backward hat, and jeans tucked into boots. There was a smudge of dirt on his cheek, as if he’d rubbed his face in frustration.

“Why?” I asked, tilting my head, my voice sharp.

“I was researching last night and thought?—”

“No one touches this car but Gus,” I interrupted, my voice rising. “I wanted to bring it to his shop. I asked you to tow it there, but you insisted on bringing it here.”

“Theo, it’s okay,” Rhodes said, stepping toward me cautiously.

“It isn’t okay!” I snapped. “What if you didn’t fix it? What if you made it worse? I need this car, Rhodes!”

His expression softened and I still couldn’t meet his eyes anymore. My gaze darted to the car, and the panic settled deeper into my bones.

“You know how much this car means to me. Yet you went against my wishes.”

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