Page 11 of Truck Me
Even bundled up in my heavy coat, gloves, and scarf, it’s not enough. Especially under the canopy of the trees. I swear the shade makes it twenty degrees colder.
While I’m shivering, Rayne is bouncing along the trail, seemingly unaffected by the cold.
“Do you think it’s gonna snow soon?” She looks up at me with a hopeful grin.
“It’s supposed to. All the predictions say we could be in for a blizzard this year.”
She claps her hands. Her excitement is muffled by the thick wool gloves she’s wearing. “I hope so. We haven’t had a good snow in a few years. I love making snowmen. If it snows, and you’re still here, will you play with me?”
I furrow my brow. “Why wouldn’t I be here?”
“Dunno.” She shrugs. “I heard Grandma talking on the phone, saying she was afraid you would leave again.”
I stop. “I’m not leaving. I moved home.”
“I know.” She gives me a worried glance. “But what if your life gets put back together in Chicago? Will you leave then?”
I let out a huff. “That’s highly doubtful. My life in Chicago is over.”
“But what if—”
“There are no what ifs.” I cut her off. “I’m here, and I’m staying. I will most definitely play with you in the snow. I happen to love making snowmen too. Now, come on. Let’s get you to Grams’ house before we both turn into icicles.”
I continue walking down the trail with Rayne close behind. When I look back at her, she’s fidgeting with the fingers of her gloves and looks up at me with doubt written all over her face. I don’t know when my word became useless to my family, but I hate that they don’t believe me when I say I am home to stay.
Was this in my plan? No.
Did I want to move home? Hell no.
But this is the hand I was dealt. Even if I wanted to move back to Chicago, I can’t. Not with how sick Dad really is. Another detail Mom hid from me for far too long. If I’d known she needed this much help with him, I would’ve come home sooner.
That thought causes me to pause. Would I?
If my life hadn’t imploded, would I have come home sooner if Mom had told me how quickly Dad was declining? I’d like to think I would have, but a nagging voice deep inside me is screaming no.
We exit the woods and I stop when I see a tiny house and a large garage that wasn’t there before I moved away.
“Who built this?”
“That’s Garret’s house.”
With my hands on my hips and a furrowed brow, I ask, “Garret lives here? It’s so … Tiny.”
Rayne just nods with a grin. “Isn’t it cute? It’s like a playhouse, but for grown-ups. He says it’s all the space he needs.”
“Huh.” I continue walking across the field. “How long has he lived here?”
“Dunno. As long as I can remember. Why?”
I shrug. “Just curious. Didn’t know he moved out of the main house. I thought those boys would live there forever, taking over the house once Grams couldn’t anymore.”
“That’s Liam’s job. Technically, the house is his now. They all own the garage though. Even Garret, but he built his own garage over here. Warren’s gone. I’ve only met him twice. He’s a lot like you and hardly ever comes to visit. But everyone else still lives in the house.”
“You know a lot about the Mutter brothers.”
She shrugs. “They’re part of my family.”
I blink several times, amazed at how definitive that statement is to her. The Mutters have always been close friends with my parents, but we never called them family. I wonder what else has changed while I was gone.