Page 7 of Finding Home with You

“Hey Erin,” he calls back. “Everything okay?”

“Nope,” I reply, and that’s when he meets me in the entryway. “I answered my phone.” And without any more explanation he understands.

“You gotta dump your phone again,” he says without missing a beat and I nod in response. But it’s not as easy as last time or the time before. People get suspicious, they ask questions, and even worse this time there’s Ryan.

“How do I explain this to Ryan?” I ask, not entirely certain whether my question applies to the phone or to everything.

Finn shrugs his shoulders but tells me, “He might be a better person to tell than me.”

Finn is probably right. I know he can’t really help me with any of this. He’s a small town police chief, not someone who has the resources to hunt down a mob boss. I’m not even sure I want anyone hunting him down. I just want to be left alone.

Finn knows I won’t get into it with him about whether I should tell Ryan or not. That’s why I’m here. I don’t want advice. I don’t want to talk. I just want to feel safe.

“You ready for bed?” he asks, walking toward his bedroom as I follow.

He hands me a t-shirt and I disappear into the bathroom to wash my face and change.

When I emerge from the bathroom Finn is already in bed, and the room is shrouded in darkness. I climb in next to him and as I do my chest tightens and a lump fills my throat. I choke back the sound that I know will leave my lips if I let myself cry.

I want to cry out of fear, but mostly I want to cry because no one has ever been as kind to me without explanation as Finn has.

“Good night, Erin,” he says and I can hear the concern in his voice, yet I also know I’m safe.

“I’ll sneak out in the morning so we don’t become the town gossip,” I respond, and Finn laughs.

“You’ll always be the town gossip, Erin. You’re an outsider.”

He’s right; I am an outsider. I always have been and probably always will be, but at least now I fly under the radar. As a kid that was impossible because everyone knew who my father was, but Kelsey never held it against me. She was my friend regardless, and her acceptance meant Finn became my friend too.

I owe both of them so much.

For the rest of the week, Finn comes by everyday to check on me despite me feeling like I may have overreacted. I continually apologize to him for involving him in this shit show, but he reminds me that if I want this to work, that if I truly want to disappear, I have to assume nothing is safe.

Even after all these years I’m still trying to come to terms with this, and I know it’s why I keep everyone at arms length. It’s all on a need to know basis because I know that I’m possibly putting someone else’s life at risk by involving them. So I get a new phone and a new number. Make up some lame excuse about my old number being stolen, pretend as though it’s no big deal.

It’s been a long and exhausting week and by the time Friday arrives, I’m crabby and exhausted and the last thing I want to do is make cupcakes. But because I love Kelsey, I hit the store on my way home from work, picking up everything I need.

Milling around the aisles of the supermarket, I get stopped by two parents who want to have an impromptu conference in the coffee section, while all I want to do is get out of here. What made me think living in the same town I teach in was a good idea is beyond me.

I haul ass to the checkout and somehow make it out without being stopped by another parent or a student for that matter. Loading my groceries into my car, I’m interrupted by my phone chiming multiple times in my purse. By the sixth one, I toss what remaining bags I have in the trunk and pull out my phone.

Two texts are from Kelsey, who seems to be having a panic attack that I’ll forget to make the cupcakes and leave her with nothing to serve at the party. I send her a quick reply letting her know I’ve got it under control and hopefully she’s now breathing a sigh of relief, although I doubt it.

Forgetting about the other messages, my phone chimes again and I laugh. Figuring it’s Kelsey, I glance at the screen and see a message that pisses me off. Already in a piss poor mood, I don’t feel like dealing with bullshit.

Ryan: WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?

Me: Are you shouting at me?

Ryan: I’ve texted you five times. It pisses me off when you keep me waiting.

Me: fuck off

I’m not interested in battling with Ryan tonight whether it’s playful or not. What I really want I can’t ask him for because that would mean I’d have to tell him everything.

Chapter Three

Ryan

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