Page 88 of To Belong Together
“I kept up with the other bills, just not …” Mom motioned toward the letter. “Disability is less than he used to make, and the medical bills are so expensive. But I couldn’t go get a job when he needed me here.” She dipped her face, shoulders shaking.
“Of course not.” Erin swallowed. They’d known this was coming, but the letter made it so official. “You can move in with me. My house is smaller, but I have a spare room. We can paint it however you want.” Erin had bought the house as a fixer-upper anyway. She had dreams of transforming the small home, just hadn’t gotten very far yet. Having her parents live with her, well, she’d lose some independence, but at least she’d have motivation to get going on her improvements. “And if you sell this place, maybe—”
“I can’t leave our home. Robert …” Sobbing stole the rest of her words. She looked small and broken. So hopeless.
Erin’s breath turned shallow and quick. So far, she hadn’t succeeded at finding Dad. Her failure meant Mom might need to face the future without him. Should she also be deprived of her house?
“We’ll work this out. I’ll …” She licked her lips but could muster no further hesitation. Not when, by surrendering a little freedom and a dream of remodeling she’d left on hold anyway, she could spare Mom one more catastrophe. “Dad advised me to buy instead of rent, so I did. I built up equity. Not enough to buy this house outright, but I can sell, use the equity to catch up on your mortgage, and we can live here together. We can split expenses each month.”
Mom’s watery eyes fixed on her. “You can’t tie yourself here like that.”
“I can. It makes sense.” Even in Mom and Dad’s larger house, they’d get by on less than if they continued living separately. She gave Mom a nod and a smile. “I want to. I’ll call Nina tomorrow and get the ball rolling.” The real estate agent, who attended their church, would guide Erin through the process.
Mom’s chest shuddered again, then seemed to calm.
Erin refocused on the financial end of it. The sale of her little house might not garner the full amount Mom needed. Erin’s meager savings account would help, and perhaps she could talk Uncle Nick into loaning her the rest.
An image of John flashed to mind. The money would mean nothing to him in one way and everything in another. He’d never miss the funds, but if she asked, he’d think that was what she’d wanted all along.
If he realized he was out of her league, so be it, but she would not go down as another woman who used him for money.
She’d be who Dad had trained her to be. The devoted daughter who wouldn’t stop looking for him. The daughter who provided for Mom when he couldn’t.
Whatever saving the house—and a scrap of normalcy—required, she’d go all in.
If she’d insisted sooner on helping care for him instead of running off to play dress up in Fox Valley, perhaps Dad wouldn’t have had the opportunity to drive off. Erin could’ve run to the store for them. Instead, she’d been off living a fantasy. Because of her indulgence, now she—and Mom—had to suffer this nightmare.
John hadan uneasy feeling about Erin.
He’d tried going to bed early so he’d be ready to restart the search at sunrise, but sleep seemed as elusive as Erin’s father.
John was troubled about the missing man, but this was more than that.
He circled his arm behind his head and stared up at the dark ceiling. He’d carefully chosen his mattress, sheets, and pillow. He normally fell asleep in minutes, despite the moonlight that washed through all the windows.
He’d lain here an hour already tonight. Even with the blackout blinds shut, his thoughts spun like a ceiling fan. From the moment Erin left the reception without talking to him, he’d known they’d had a problem. Kate, he’d thought at first. And then, he’d thought it was all about her dad.
In the throes of a crisis, he couldn’t blame Erin for leaving without a word.
But not calling? He’d dismissed it earlier, but in the stillness, Erin’s decision haunted him. Why had she waited until morning?
The search today had been dismal, but he and Erin had worked well together. Shared memories and stories. With everything else in shambles, he’d felt pretty good about where they stood with each other—until that cool good-night.
Why didn’t she want him to hold her hand? Why avoid a hug?
The darkness held no answers.
He’d turned the clock face-down to hide the light, but he tipped it up. Only ten thirty.
He trudged to the kitchen and found Isabella still at the table. When he’d returned from the search, grabbed a bowl of cereal, and caught up with Tim, the man had said his daughter was doing homework because she’d fallen behind. Now, she continued to focus on her laptop, ears covered by headphones nicer than he’d entrust to a kid. Homework or not, wasn’t this pretty late for someone her age to be awake?
He passed behind her to get water from the refrigerator and glanced at her screen.
Instead of an educational video, a cartoon played.
Had she been completing schoolwork earlier, or was this the reason her assignments were late?
John hadn’t planned to solve the mystery of Tim’s stay at his house tonight. He’d figured Tim would come clean when he wanted to. But John needed a distraction from Erin, and it wasn’t like talking to Isabella right now would interrupt her studies.
