Page 1 of Hidden Memories

Chapter One

PRESENT

Nicholas died fifty-one days ago.Or maybe it was fifty-two. Maybe fifty-three. The main thing is, he’s dead. He went on a bachelor party and never came back. When he was a day late home, I figured he got too drunk and high to be allowed on a plane. When it was two days late, I hoped he met a stripper and fell in love.

Instead, he met his maker.

It might be only two months since Nicholas died, but he’s been dead to me for years. From the moment he shoved that unwanted ring on my finger to the moment I gotthe call about his passing, the man was cruel, controlling, and manipulated everyone in and out of my life. Not to mention the pushing. Never hitting. Always pushing. And that’s how I know he was calculated. Bruises were never on my face, and every shove could be passed off as accidental.

Should I feel guilty that I’m being so cold about this? Maybe he would have been as emotionless about my death as I am about his. Then again, I was a good wife. And a good mom. I tried. I always tried, even if in his eyes, I consistently got it wrong.

My son’s face appears in the doorway, and he lifts a sock with a llama on it. “I can’t find my other lucky sock.”

My ten-year-old is a boy who has been offered all material things on a silver platter. But he doesn’t care about much apart from our toy poodle, Keeper, and his lucky socks. To be fair, Keeper is Theo’s best friend, and the socks won him every sprint race on sports day so far in his elementary school years. He’s had the socks since he was seven, and I fear they’re not going to fit soon.

Height is the only thing he seems to have inherited from his father and the only thing I hope he does.

“Honey, I’m sorry but I searched high and low. I found that one outside. You know if the foxes get in the yard they eat everything. It might have been someone’s dinner.”

I remember the time Nicholas left his leather shoes outside after a swim. Only one was still there in the morning, and it was almost fully devoured. I paid for that shoe. And not in money.

“Mom, they wouldn’t eat my sock.” He considers it. “Would they?”

“I can’t think of anything else. Maybe some other creature took it away, but there was only one where I found it. I searched everywhere inside, too.”

His shoulders slump, and he stomps into the room toward me, his one remaining bit of luck swaying back and forth in his hand, half-defeated. He falls into my arms for a hug, and I wrap all the strength I have around his tiny body.

Theo has never been emotionally communicative with words. I’ve always wondered if he’s just introverted and shy, or worse, he’s been traumatized by all the yelling and physical force used in our home. Thank God, he always seeks me out for comfort and allows me to support him with cuddles.

I pour every ounce of strength from my body into his and hold him closely, hoping to read what’s on his mind.

I know if I ask I won’t get much but I do anyway. “Are you sure you’re okay with moving house?”

His melancholy is muffled against my chest. “Yeah.”

“So it’s just the sock upsetting you?”

A sigh leaves his body. “Yeah.”

“Do you feel like you need luck because we’re moving?”

I wrap my palm around his skull and know his mind is buzzing. He doesn’t answer, but that tells me something, too.

When I asked him if he’d like to move, he thought the picture I showed him online of the farmhouse in the middle of nowhere seemed like an adventure. For a child who’s more into digging for worms and building forts, our ten-bedroom show home and pristine vacations haven’t been much fun for him. I hope I can give him the childhood he deserves—one with dirt smeared across his face, showing me snakes he’s found, and mud under his fingernails. One immersed in nature.

I stroke Theo’s head and kiss it. “I’ll check again when I finish packing this lastbox.”

“No.” He sounds resigned. “I know it’s not in the house. I did a good job looking. I tried better than usual.”

His mind whirrs again, and I wait because I’ve learned to sense when he will talk. Finally, his piercing blue eyes stare up at me.

“You said I’ll be homeschooled, right?”

I nod and smile. “Not homeschooled.Forestschooled. The house isn’t big, but you can dig to your heart’s content. And there are mountains and trees nearby.”

The only way to pull off this move quickly is to homeschool for a semester. Mount Hamilton Elementary doesn’t have a spot open yet, but Theo hates his current private school anyway. He hates the uniform. He hasn’t made friends with the preppy boys. He’s never been into football or basketball or baseball. Or even tennis. He’s never fit in with that crowd. This infuriated his father.

“You don’t want to grow up and be a pansy, do you? What’s wrong with you? Real men play sports.”

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