Page 88 of The Coworker
We did, in fact, just pass the eleven-year anniversary of that horrible night. “Yes,really.”
He lays down the spatula he has been using to flip the pancakes. “Well, I don’t know what I’m going to do then. I don’t have a driver’s license, so how am I supposed to get out there?”
“I…”
He frowns. “Could you at least give me a ride? You don’t have to stay or go inside. Just drop me off.”
I hesitate.
“Please, Brooke?”
I feel a stab of guilt. The poor guy doesn’t even have a driver’s license, much less a vehicle. All he wants to do is go back to his childhood home so he can get it back in inhabitable conditions.
“Fine,” I say.
But even as the words are coming out of my mouth, I know I will live to regret them.
Chapter 49
Shane scores big points with his pancakes. Josh eats about eight of them, and with a full mouth, declares them to be “the best pancakes ever.” Shane could not possibly look happier when he says that.
“Can I grab some cleaning supplies to take out to the farmhouse?” he asks as he’s clearing away the food from the table.
“Sure…” I don’t want to tell him that I had been hoping he might change his mind.
“Thanks so much for doing this, Brooke.”
He rests a hand on my shoulder and gives it a squeeze. I squirm, since Josh is still at the table. Yes, we slept together last night, but doesn’t he understand that we have to be careful what information gets fed to our ten-year-old son?
Sure enough, Josh’s eyes widen slightly at the sight of Shane’s hand lingering on my shoulder. But he doesn’t say anything.
“So,” Shane says. “When can we get going?”
“Going where?” Josh pipes up.
Shane slides back into one of the seats at the kitchen table. “Your mom and I are going to this really cool farmhouse at the other end of town. I used to live there a long time ago.”
“Oh,” Josh says. “Cool.”
“Do you want to come?” Shane asks.
I suck in a breath. I had been thinking Josh would stay behind while I drove Shane out to the farmhouse. But to my surprise, Josh bobs his head enthusiastically. “Yeah!”
“Oh, honey,” I say quickly. “You don’t have to come with us. It’s going to be really boring. We’re not even going to go inside.”
“But I want to go,” Josh pouts.
I guess this is going to be a family trip.
Shane heads outside to shovel the driveway, and I gather cleaning supplies from the house. I don’t know entirely what to bring, and I’m worried that the entire house will be filthy beyond words. There isn’t carpeting, so I don’t bother with the vacuum. I bring the mop and bucket, lots of cleaning fluid, some rags, and two rolls of paper towels. Shane is going to have his work cut out for him.
After I’ve got all the supplies, I go to grab my car keys to throw everything into the trunk. I keep my keys on the bookcase right next to the entrance to the house, on the fourth shelf from the top, right in front of Webster’s dictionary. Except when I go to reach for them, they’re not there.
Where are my keys?
A split second later, I spot the keys on the third shelf. In the same spot where I usually put them, except one shelf higher. I snatch them up in my hand, looking at the key ring as if for a clue.
I’m sure I put the keys on the fourth shelf. I put them there every single day when I get home from the store or work or wherever. It’s automatic. I do it without even thinking about it. So while I don’t remember putting the keys on that shelf, I’m sure I must’ve done it.
