Page 1 of Comforting the Grump

PROLOGUE

MARNIN

1983

Iwinced as I pulled my soaking wet shirt over my head, deliberately turning my front toward Auden. If he saw the bruises on my back, he’d flip out. Not really, because Auden never flipped out, but he’d tell his dad, and then I’d be in even more trouble than I already was.

All I’d wanted was to make mac-and-cheese. Dad had been passed out on the couch as usual, drunk off his ass, but it wasn’t like I didn’t know how to make it. I basically lived on that shit. That, and peanut butter sandwiches. Without the jelly. Mrs. Frant put a jar of peanut butter in my backpack every other week. I kept it hidden in my closet so Dad wouldn’t use it. Or sell it. Because, believe me, he would.

The asshole had sold my bike a few weeks ago to get money for booze. I’d never been so pissed off in my life. Without that bike, I couldn’t go to school or bike to my friends’ houses. Sheriff Frant had gotten me a new one that I now kept locked and hidden in the woods behind our house.

Anyway, I’d been making mac-and-cheese, but I’d had to use the bathroom. I thought I’d be done quickly, but I had to take a shit, and I forgot about it on the stove. It burned and woke Dad up, and he’d beaten me with his belt again. I had a rainbow of bruises on my back, and they fucking hurt.

I’d kept them hidden from Auden for two days, not sleeping over at his place like I often did. But we’d been out on our bikes today and had gotten caught in the rain, so now I was dripping wet. His mom had told me to take off my clothes and put some of Auden’s on until mine were dry. She was so amazing. God, I wished I had a mom like that. Instead, I had one I couldn’t even remember because she’d taken off when I was two. Without me.

“Come sit, boys,” Mrs. Frant said. “I made you some tomato soup with a grilled cheese sandwich.”

My mouth watered. “Thank you, Mrs. Frant.”

The smile she gave me was a little sad, though I wasn’t sure why. “You’re so welcome, sweetheart.”

We had almost finished the soup when Auden’s dad came home, still dressed in his sheriff’s uniform. He kissed his wife first, then came over to give Auden a hug. “Hey, buddy. How was school today?”

“We learned about Africa today. It was cool.”

“You’ll have to tell me more about it. I’ve never been there.”

“The tallest mountain is the Kilimanjaro,” Auden said. “Mrs. Sommer showed us a picture. It even had snow on it. I didn’t know Africa had snow.”

The sheriff ruffled Auden’s hair. “I didn’t either.” Then he turned to me. “Hey, kiddo.”

I braced myself for the hug that would come. A few months ago, he’d started hugging me whenever he saw me. It was strange and a little weird, but also wonderful and special. But I couldn’t let him know I was hurting.

But when he held me, he squeezed right on the biggest bruise on my right ribs, and a little groan escaped. He froze, then carefully moved back. I avoided his eyes. He stared at me for a few seconds, then said, “When you’re done with your soup, Marnin, come to my office for a moment, would you? I want to show you something. Auden, you help your mother with the trash, okay?”

With lead in my shoes, I reported to his home office after we’d finished the soup. “You wanted to see me, Sheriff?”

“Close the door behind you, kid.”

I did as I was told, then waited silently.

He rose from his chair and walked over before crouching to my level. “Turn around for me.”

My mouth ran dry. “I don’t…”

“It’s okay, Marnin. I promise it’ll be okay.”

Tears formed in my eyes and my throat grew tight as I slowly turned my back toward him. I squeezed my eyes shut as he lifted my shirt. All I heard was a sharp intake of breath, and then he dropped the fabric again. When I turned back around and opened my eyes, he was watching me with those warm brown eyes—they matched Auden’s. “Why don’t you spend the weekend here?”

“My father said I needed to come home to help with cutting wood for the winter.”

The sheriff gave me a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of it, okay?”

I slowly nodded. “Okay, Sheriff Frant.”

He gently cupped my cheek. “It won’t happen again, Marnin. You have my word.”

I didn’t believe him, but I kept my mouth shut. He might talk to my father, and maybe that would help for a few weeks, but the next time he was drunk and I pissed him off, he’d beat me again.I didn’t know any different by now. My whole life had been about avoiding making him angry.