by Devney Perry
“They arrested him.” She pointed past me and Milo toward the cop car parked behind a fire truck.
In the backseat, Denny was slumped forward, his head hanging down. His hair shielded his face.
Milo frowned at Denny, then turned to the cops. “He didn’t hurt anyone?”
“No, sir.”
“Good.” I sighed. Maybe the backseat of that cop car was the best thing that could happen to him right now.
“Ma’am, we’ll need to finish taking your statement,” a police officer told Mom as he hovered outside our circle. He looked cold, his teeth chattering and his nose bright red.
He’d have to tough it out because it wasn’t like they could go inside to talk.
“All right.” Mom let me go, then crossed her arms over her chest. Her legs were bare except for the knee-high rubber boots she’d pulled on. Their yellow and white daisies were too friendly on a dark night like this.
“Come on, babe.” Milo took my hand and led me closer to the house.
As we approached the back of Denny’s truck, one of the firemen stopped us. “Please be careful. This whole house is unstable.”
“We’ll stay back,” Milo assured him, dragging me closer.
From where we’d been standing, Denny’s truck had hidden the damage. But now that we were coming around the side of the house next to the garage, I could hardly believe what I was seeing.
The house wasn’t unstable, it was collapsing.
The living room, the place where Dad and I had watched movies and eaten popcorn, was destroyed. The couch I’d picked out for Dad the year before he’d died was toppled over and broken in half. The main-floor windows were all cracked or shattered. The porch was now broken boards and splinters scattered on the snow-covered lawn.
The corner of the second floor drooped over the wreckage. The corner that had once been my bedroom. Even after Dad had bought me my condo, even after he’d died and Mom had moved in, that had been my bedroom. Denny had moved into the guest bedroom because that was my room.
Now it was moments away from crashing down into the rubble. The supports creaked. Glass continued to crack, filling the yard with eerie sounds.
This home—my home—was gone.
“I’m so sorry, babe.” Milo put his arm around my shoulders.
I was shaking, not just from the cold, but from the shock. “He ruined my home.”
“They can rebuild it.”
“Maybe. But it will never be the same,” I whispered as tears flooded my eyes.
They’d rebuild this house—they’d fix the windows and sunken walls—and in that process the little touches that had been Dad’s would be erased.
The need to cry and scream choked me, so I turned away from the chaos and marched across the yard. I marched right up to one of the police officers standing guard outside the car where Denny was sitting.
“Is he high?” I asked.
At my voice, Denny’s eyes lifted. They were red-rimmed and glassy and held a stream of apologies.
It was too late for I’m sorry.
“We believe so, yes,” the police officer said. “He’s also been drinking.”
I held my brother’s gaze, wondering if I’d ever be able to forgive him for this. He’d taken something away from me that I’d held dear. He’d taken my sanctuary. He’d taken my roots.
For that, he deserved to suffer in jail.
Milo’s heat hit my back as he placed his arms on my shoulders. “They’re done talking to your mom.”
“Will you take him to jail?” I asked the officer.
He nodded. “Yes.”
I locked eyes with Denny, making sure my voice was loud and clear. “Good.”
Without giving him another moment, I walked over to where Mom was standing in front of the house. She was weeping into the sleeve of her robe.
“I can’t believe this,” she said when I stood by her side. “I was asleep and woke up to this huge crash and the house shaking. I thought it was an earthquake. I came down the hall and there was a hole in the house and Denny was stumbling his way out of the truck.”
“He needs help, Mom.”
“I’ll talk to him.”
“No, this needs more than talk.” I crossed my arms over my chest. Behind her, Milo gave me a reassuring nod. “This needs action. I don’t think you should bail him out of jail.”
“What?” Her eyes bulged. “He can’t stay in jail.”
“Why not? It’s not like he has a house to come home to.” I threw my arm wide toward the chaos behind me. “Maybe a few days in jail to think about this and sober up will do him some good.”
“It was an accident, Sara. He didn’t mean to crash into the house.”
“An accident? How can you—” I stopped myself.
Why was I wasting my breath arguing with her? The minute she was able, she’d have Denny out of that jail cell and into a cozy hotel room. We were standing in the yard, in the freezing cold, in the middle of the night next to a house in shambles, and she was defending him.
“I give up.” I shook my head. “I don’t want to fight tonight. Come on. You can sleep on my couch.”
“Oh, um . . . that’s okay.” She looked up at Milo. “You have a full place. I’m Abby, by the way.”
He shook her hand. “Milo Phillips.”
“Nice to meet you. So you’re Sara’s boyfriend?”
“That’s right.”
She leaned in closer to me. “You didn’t tell me you were seeing someone.”
No, I hadn’t told her about Milo. Instead, my recent conversations with her had been about Denny and his addictions. It hadn’t been the time to discuss my love life.
Now wasn’t either.
“We should get going, Mom.”
She needed warmer clothes and it wasn’t like she could go inside, pack up her toiletries and an overnight bag. At least at my place, she could borrow some clothes to wear tomorrow until we figured out what to do about the house.
“Did the officers say you needed to stay longer?” Milo asked her.
“I can leave. But I don’t want to impose. You guys go. I have a place to stay.”
“Where? A hotel? That’s silly. Why don’t you want to stay with us?”
She stayed quiet, dropping her chin to avoid my stare.
“Abby!”
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as a man’s voice carried across the yard.
I knew that voice.
Milo and I both turned as Dr. Vernon ran over from his car parked on the street.
“Dr. Vernon?” I hissed at Mom. “You’re staying with Dr. Vernon?”
“We’re sort of seeing one another,” she whispered with a shrug.
The wide-eyed, shocked look on Milo’s face probably matched my own. It felt like days ago, not hours, that Vernon had come after me outside the hospital. I’d thought I’d left him behind today when I’d quit my job.
Nope. Here he was, at one of my lowest points, all because of my mother.
“Abby, oh my God.” He pushed right past me and pulled Mom into his arms. “What a disaster. You’re not hurt?”
“I’m okay now that you’re here.”
I was going to be sick. I stood dumbfounded as he kissed her temple and then her lips. Was this really happening?
Was my brother in the back of a cop car, my dad’s house in ruins and my mom in the arms of the man who’d assaulted me?
This had to be a nightmare. Soon, I’d wake up safe and warm in Milo’s arms.
“Let’s go.” Milo took my hand and pulled me away. He hauled me to my car and opened the door, loading me inside before getting behind the wheel. Then he pulled away from the curb, flipping a U-turn so we wouldn’t have to drive by the house.
“How long do you think that’s been going on?” he asked.
“If I had to guess? Since the day he met her.”
Vernon had probably been dating Mom—or fucking her—at the time he’d kissed me in the locker room.
“Does she know he came after you?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“You need to tell her, Sara.”
“I will.”
Would it do any good? If Vernon was spinning a web of lies and excuses to HR, then he was doing the same with Mom. Would she believe me when I told her the truth?
Probably not.
Mom was infatuated with a new boyfriend. Everything else, especially her daughter, was not going to take priority. Maybe she’d surprise me, but I wasn’t holding my breath.
We drove the rest of the way home in silence. This day had been one of the longest in my life and all I wanted was for it to be over.
Milo must have felt the same, because as we pulled into the garage and got out of the car, he led me straight into the bedroom, where we stripped off our clothes and huddled under the covers.
“Sleep. We’ll figure it out tomorrow.” He wrapped me tight in his arms, so close I couldn’t move.
“Don’t let me go.”
“Never.”
“What did she say?” Milo asked.
I shrugged as tears swam in my eyes. “She said I was being dramatic. That she knows Greg and that doesn’t sound like him at all.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Milo flew off the couch. “Your mom is a piece of work. Did she bail Denny out of jail?”
I shook my head. “Not yet.”
“That’s something, at least,” he muttered.
I leaned back on the couch, letting my eyes wander over the ceiling. “What am I going to do? I quit my job. My mother is dating a man who I hate with every fiber of my being. My brother is a drug addict who just crashed his truck into my childhood home. Everything is falling apart.”
Everything except Milo.
He’d been my constant, staying close all morning. His hands were always there to give me a reassuring touch. Those eyes I loved so much and his handsome smile were there whenever I needed to borrow some strength to keep the tears at bay.
“What should I do?” I asked, sitting up to give him my full attention.
“With everything that happened yesterday, I didn’t get to tell you about my calls.”
“And I forgot to ask. Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He rubbed my knee. “I have to be back to work in a week. At least, Jess would like me back in a week. I’m sure I could stretch it to two.”
“A week.” That wasn’t enough time. Was this supposed to be good news? Because his tone made this sound like good news, but the idea of him leaving in a week was close to the worse thing I’d heard today and I’d heard some doozies from Mom. “How mad would Jess be if you made it two?”
“I don’t think we need two.” When I frowned, he grinned. “Hear me out. I talked to Maisy yesterday too.”
“She answered?”
“Yeah. We talked for about an hour. Mostly, I listened to her unload. She’s having a hard time right now but she’ll be okay. She’s tougher than she believes she is.”
“Crazy damn doctors,” I muttered.
Milo chuckled. “Here’s the thing. She’s not going back to work. She can’t be in that hospital again.”
“Okay.” My heart began to race. I knew where this conversation was headed.
“Come with me.” Milo took my hand, pressing it between his. “Come with me to Montana. I already called the hospital and they want to interview you. We can spend the next week packing. Get this place emptied out to rent or sell. Whatever you want. But Sara, I don’t want to live two states apart. I don’t want to go to sleep without you in my arms at night.”
I didn’t want that either. The idea of limiting our relationship to long-distance phone calls made my stomach churn.
But . . .
Could I move to Montana? Was I really considering this? How could I leave Mom and Denny at a time like this? How could I give up the condo Dad had bought me?
“This is huge.”
“My feelings for you are huge. I love you, Sara. Come to Prescott with me.”
There were a hundred reasons to say no. A thousand doubts in the corners of my mind. A million butterflies in my stomach. But one question popped into my head and I knew the answer instantly.
What would Dad say?
Go, Sara.
“Okay.” I smiled. “Let’s go.”
“Sara.” Milo touched my shoulder.
I sucked in a sharp, waking breath, sitting up and forcing my heavy eyelids open. “Huh?”
“You’d better wake up.”
“Oh, sorry.” I shoved the hair out of my eyes. The sound of wheels on pavement and Milo’s scent had lulled me to sleep. “I didn’t mean to conk out on you.”
“It’s okay.” He reached over and laced his fingers with mine. “You were tired.”
I took a few more deep breaths as I came out of my slumber, then stretched the kink out of my neck. The past week had caught up to me, and even though sleeping in a car was miserably uncomfortable, I couldn’t fight the exhaustion.
Milo and I had spent a week packing up my condo. We hauled boxes to Goodwill. Crammed my car full of everything we could possibly fit. And what was left was boxed and loaded into a mobile storage trailer that would be delivered to Milo’s house in Prescott by the end of the month.
My arms were stiff. My legs ached. Running a marathon would have wreaked less havoc on my body.
We’d spent yesterday cleaning my condo so it would be ready to show as a rental. I’d decided against selling. I knew when I locked the door behind me this morning I’d never live there again. But I was keeping it for sentimental reasons, not quite ready to let it go. The property management company I’d hired assured me it would be no problem to get a good monthly income from the place.
Milo and I had spent last night in a hotel, splurging on a fancy location downtown.
Then this morning, we’d hit the road.
I’d cried a little as we’d pulled onto the interstate. I’d miss the familiarity of Spokane. I’d miss driving by a restaurant or park or store and being reminded of a time I’d had there with Dad.
But as the miles wore on, excitement chased away the sadness. Anticipation of a new life and new adventures erased my fears. The scenery rolling past my window was so breathtaking it was impossible not to feel an eagerness to explore.
This was my new beginning. I was hurt by Mom and angry at Denny, so much so that I hadn’t even bothered saying good-bye. I wanted this chance to forge my own life without their actions weighing me down.
Out the car windows, wide fields of golden grasses rolled in every direction. Stubborn snow piles filled creek beds and valleys. Spring had come early to this part of Montana and green shoots were peeking through the black earth. Lemon buds dotted naked trees. In the distance, the cobalt, snowcapped mountains rose past the few clouds into the sky.
We crested the top of a large hill and my stomach dropped. Below us, the entire world had opened up. Above us, the sky was bigger. Bluer. There was so much to see it was impossible to take it all in as we flew down the road.
On the horizon, homes clustered along the highway. A small town rolled into view.
“Where are we? This valley is gorgeous.”
“I’m glad you think so.” Milo glanced over, a smile toying at the corner of his mouth. “Because that’s Prescott. And we’re home.”
Epilogue
“That’s it,” I told the girls in the spa. “That’s our story.”
“It’s so romantic.” Sabrina swooned. “I love real-life stories with kismet.”
“Your mom is something else.” Felicity’s lip curled. “I know you guys are fighting and you know I’m always on your side. But . . . this time I think I have to side with Milo. Mom sleeps on the floor.”
“There’s more.” I looked over at Gigi, who rolled her eyes.
She and I had been working together at the hospital for so long, she not only knew the story of how Milo and I had met, but she’d also been through everything since. When I
had a bad day, she was always there to listen. When I’d found out I was pregnant after trying unsuccessfully for years, she’d cried happy tears for an hour. And ages ago, when Mom had crossed a line Milo hadn’t been able to forgive, Gigi had been nearly as angry as he had been.
“Was it because of how she was with Denny?” Emmeline guessed.
“No.” I shook my head. “Milo hates Mom because she married Greg Vernon six months after I moved to Prescott.”
The spa filled with collective gasps.
“That asshole is your stepfather?” Sabrina’s mouth hung open.
“Don’t worry. They only lasted another six months after that. Mom realized he was scum and apologized profusely. But Milo still hates her for it.”
“As he should,” Felicity grumbled.
In Milo’s eyes, Mom had betrayed me by choosing Vernon over her own daughter. No number of apologies would earn his forgiveness.
But my heart had softened toward her. Mom knew she’d made a horrible mistake. She’d been blind to my feelings and had believed the wrong person. She admittedly was far from perfect—Dad hadn’t been perfect either. But she was still my mom and the only parent I had left.
So I’d let go of my own resentment toward her years ago and accepted her for who she was. A woman I saw once a year, at most. Someone I called on her birthday, Christmas and Mother’s Day. And a grandmother who desperately wanted to meet her grandson.
“I’m over it,” I told them. “I really am. I only wish Milo could get over it too. It’s been years and she’s never going to change. I get that he’s angry at her on my behalf. It’s actually sweet that he’s so loyal. But it would take a lot of stress away if he’d just grin and bear it for a weekend. She’ll swoop in and sweep out, then who knows when we’ll see her again.”
“I bet he’ll come around,” Maisy said. “Once he cools off.”
“I’m sure you’re right.” Milo never stayed mad at me for long. And he really was coming at it from a good place.
It didn’t help that his parents were perfect and set the bar high. Milo expected other parents to be as wonderful as his own. Kirk and Teresa were the best in-laws in the world. They loved me as a daughter and worshiped Hudson. When I’d arrived in Prescott, they’d become family.