But since we didn’t have to do dishes, Brady took us out back and lit the fire pit. The inn’s lawn chairs were rather old and threadbare, but Brady made a trip inside and returned with wool throws straight from the dryer.
Between the warm blankets, the crackling fire, and the rest of the wine, it was a pleasant evening. The stars were more vivid than anything I’d ever seen before, and the cool nip in the air just made me want to snuggle under the blankets even more.
By the time I returned to my room, the food, the wine and the fresh air had all combined to make me good and tired. As I brushed my teeth with the incredibly cheap and flimsy brush the inn had provided, I hoped that meant I’d sleep straight through the night.
Hopefully.
12
LILA
I slept like a baby—at first. Even though the sagging mattress meant I kept rolling into the middle of the bed and getting stuck there, I slept deeply.
Until I didn’t.
It was around three o’clock when I had to admit things weren’t going well. Normally at this point in the night I’d read for a while on my eReader, but thanks to the electronics police, I couldn’t do that. They’d also taken away other means of helping myself relax before bed.
Those bastards.
Of course, they couldn’t have known what happened when I couldn’t sleep well, but I did, and I really didn’t want it to happen here.
I thought about getting up and going out into the lounge. I was probably desperate enough to start a damn puzzle. But who knew, maybe these country boys were the type to shoot first and ask questions later if they heard someone wandering around at night.
Then again, innkeepers who did that kind of thing wouldn’t stay in business very long; but hey, it looked like that was the case anyway.
I caught up on the news on my phone, the only electronic device they’d allowed me to keep, and that was only because I had to be able to record. But despite my reputation as a tech girl, I’d never liked using the phone at night. Even with blue-light blockers on, it messed up my sleep.
As if my sleep wasn’t already messed up enough.
Except for the dip in the middle, the mattress wasn’t uncomfortable. I lay on my side, trying to figure out my options.
I didn’t notice I was drifting off until it was too late…
The sidewalk under my feet was old and crumbling, but I knew where to step to avoid the cracks and the parts that were raised up by tree roots. Even though I was fifteen, I was practically skipping. Getting out of school sometimes felt like being released from prison.
Without warning, my steps faltered as I approached our home. It wasn’t much. It had two bedrooms, one bath, a kitchen, a living room, and an unfinished basement. But still, it was ours.
But something was wrong.
It took me a moment to realize that my dad’s car was in the driveway. Not the 1973 Ford Gran Torino that was his prized possession. That was kept safely in the one-car garage. My dad had spent years restoring it, often surrounded by neighborhood boys who were equally fascinated with its care and maintenance.
No, this was the car my dad used for work, and it wasn’t even four o’clock yet. He never came home from work this early.
Eager to see him, I opened the screen door. It was nice not to have to use my key in the lock. Most days, I was here for hours before my parents got home from work.
“Dad?”
It took me a moment for my eyes to adjust from the bright light outside. “Dad?”
I headed for the kitchen, thinking that he might be in there getting a snack. But then I caught sight of something out of the corner of my eye.
Skidding to a halt, I turned to him. He was in his favorite easy chair, the one he watched television from. “What are you doing home so early?”
The TV wasn’t on. He wasn’t reading the newspaper, either.
“Dad?”
He didn’t look up.