Page 39 of Sweet Silver Bells
“Have you made any coffee yet?” his dad asked him, knees cracking as he stood right back up. Hunter shook his head. “I’ll go start a pot.”
“The woman in my bed, Mom,” Hunter started, “is a friend who needed help. She was in some trouble. Her name is Olivia.”
The eyebrows drawn on his mom’s face defied gravity. “What kind of trouble?”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s personal stuff. I’m just trying to be a good guy.”
“You’re the best guy,” his mom said, coming in for another hug.
“Did you hear about the accident in town?” his dad yelled from the kitchen, cabinets slamming as he dug for supplies.
“Ground beans are on the counter in the tin,” Hunter answered. “And what accident?”
“A police car ran into the general store last night, right on Market Street. The officer died. I could only assume drugs. Some world we live in these days.”
Hunter’s breath left his body. It was becoming a habit.
Olivia entered the living room. Her hair had been disheveled before, but now it had the extra bedhead texture. Her clothes swallowed her. Still, magic surrounded her—there was no denying a special kind of beauty.
“Oh, my dear.” Hunter’s mom turned towards her, taking Olivia’s hands, looking at the bruises, at the scratches on her skin. “What you must have been through. Your feet are nearly black with dirt. This won’t do. Let’s go get you in the shower. Hunter, why hasn’t she gotten a hot bath?”
Hunter didn’t know how to react; the last time Olivia was around another person, they’d ended up dead.
She’s dangerous. She’s holding Mom’s hands, blood on her own skin. You brought her here.
Maybe he was grumpy from the lack of sleep, or maybe more levelheaded after some hours had passed, but when Hunter looked at Olivia, he felt fear and uncertainty.
“It was late, Mom,” Hunter answered, “when we got in.”
“You poor thing, you must be traumatized to look like this. Let me help you.” His mom pulled Olivia away, and she smiled at him but went willingly. She was quiet today, around all the new people she had unfortunately woken up to.
It was easy to clear his head when he wasn’t staring into her eyes. That warmth could make him forget everything else.
Hunter listened to his mom fuss over Olivia, her high-pitched voice coming through the closed bathroom door down the hallway.
“Not too hot, dear, you just step in. Oh my gosh, you are too skinny—we need to get some food in you. What must you have been through? My Hunter is such a saint.”
“Mom, leave Olivia alone.” Hunter put his head between his hands and flopped back onto the couch, groaning. He wouldn’t put it past his mom to jump into the shower with her and help her wash her hair.
The comforting smell of cheap coffee filled his nostrils as his dad came out of the kitchen, placing a beige mug on the low square glass living room table a few feet before him.
“You have no idea how much joy your mom is getting out of you having a new friend,” his dad said, sitting next to him, sipping his coffee. “Too hot.”
“Why are you guys here without a text, Dad?” Hunter asked. “Didn’t we talk about boundaries?”
Mark chuckled, spilling some coffee on his hand. “Ouch. Can’t catch a break.”
Hunter lifted his head and looked over at the man who raised him.
“Your teacher friend, Sadie, texted your mom yesterday, concerned.” Mark put his coffee on the table only to rummage around in his jacket pocket, pulling out a crumpled paper.
“Of course she did.”
“It’s been years, son.” He slapped the paper on the table, splashing coffee. “We all miss Sarah. I don’t know who this woman is or why she is here, but you need this.”
“Definethis.” Hunter stared at the paper revealed. It was a folded check. “Dad, who even writes checks anymore?”
“I’m too old for change now.” Mark chuckled. “And when I say this, I mean change. I mean something new. I can’t be your only friend, as much as I love you, son. And hell, even if that’s my fate, I’d love to come over here without having to smell vinegar.”
