Page 28 of Secrets That Bind Us
I put my monitor to sleep, giving up for the night.
I could always call her, I guess, go over a few things with her. Mrs. B, I mean. My secret weapon. But it’s late, and I know she’s asleep. She’s older now, close to seventy. Maybe I’ll just visit, since I’m here now.
Slipping into my sheets, I can’t help but think of Dean. I’ve been trying so hard not to, but when I saw him at the furniture store for two seconds, I ran.
Thirty-two years old, and I run fromboys. Well, men. Okay, one man. He’s amannow. A lot taller than when we were younger, and from what I could see, his freckles had faded entirely. Not to mention, he definitely filled out his Henley and jeans. Nicely, I might add.
I turn over and punch my pillow a few times, then flip it over and lean my face into it just to toss and turn over again on my back.
God, I left New Haven to come back for him, only to run away at first glance.
I groan and put my hands on my head.
I’m a fucking coward!
Does he know I’m a mom? I mean I’m sure the whole fucking town has talked to him. And now I’m tearing down and renovating the place where we had our first date, to turn it into the bookstore of my dreams that we used to talk about? I mean, I knew I wouldn’t be able to hide from him forever– not here– but… just a little longer? I’m so not ready yet. Ughhhhh why is being an adult so hard? I know I can’t hide in my house forever. I-
“Mommy?”
I squeal, jumping out of my skin.
“Holy crap, Noah,” I say, putting a hand over my racing heart and look down at my son in his jammies, climbing up my bed like a cat. “You scared the bejeezus out of me. What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, there’s a dead lady crying in my closet. Can I have a glass of water?”
Bewildered at how calm my son is, I have no idea how to tread this. Motherhood is so weird. “I… yeah buddy. Do you need to sleep with me?” I ask, grabbing the bottle of water on my nightstand and handing it to him.
“Mmhmm.” He says as he sips, rubbing one eye with his little hand.He hands it back to me and I put it back on my nightstand.
“Do you… need to talk about what you saw?”
“No. She was ugly and crying, and I just want you to hold me. We can talk about it in the morning.”
My belly swoops. Oh God, it’s the first day of school tomorrow. Anxiety for my kids starts eating at me. “Of course,” I say, pulling down the blanket enough for him to climb in and cuddle up.
He's softly snoring beside me in minutes, clutching to me while I play with his hair. I’m finally falling into a fitful sleep when I hear something crawl across the floor above me, like nails.
I make a mental note to get pest control out here in the morning.
Pest Control doesn’t find anything.
Not the first time.
Not the second time.
Especially not the third time.
Four weeks later
“I am so sorry, Maranda, really.”
“What’s the excuse this time?”
“Runaway hamster, er, gerbil. Clifford was supposed to be a hamster. He’s not.” I blink at her, putting Noah’s backpack on him. The tardy bell rang just five minutes ago. And Clifford really did get out of his cage somehow, causing chaos amongst the Huntington’s. We were all jumping and running, chasing after the little creature, scurrying under every piece of furniture ‘til Savannah’s incredible brain thought to leave a trail of gerbil snacks. The little beast finally came out from under Noah’s tall chest of drawers, and she got him into his sphere.
Which is why we’re now late, for the second time in just the first month of classes starting. Last week it was funny and forgivable. This week? Not so much. Yeah, I'm killing it at this whole single mom thing.I hold in my sigh.
Maranda huffs just as I hear, “Runaway hamster, huh? Wasn’t that your excuse last week?”
