He’d been so cuddly tonight, more like the little boy he’d been last year than the teenager he’d been this afternoon. After dinner she’d finally made those cookies, and they’d snuggled on the couch and watched some old Steven Universe episodes. In the end neither of them had apologized because neither had brought up the argument at all. Not healthy, maybe, but she’d been relieved.
This day had been far too much to handle already, and there was only more stress coming before she could fall into bed. She’d just wanted to feel his warm little shoulder snug against her side, and his head tipping to rest on her when he got sleepy.
When she teared up at the memory, she knew without doubt that the day was breaking her down.
“Keep your shit together,” Lily whispered to herself as she tucked her license into her pocket and grabbed her keys. She’d only be gone half an hour, forty minutes at most, he’d be fine, and then she’d be in bed, and tomorrow would be as normal as she could make it.
After turning off every light except the bathroom, she locked up and practically tiptoed to her car, as if anyone else lived within shouting distance. When she pulled up as close as she could to the RV, the door swung out and the woman hurried out to open the passenger door.
“Thank you,” she gasped as she buckled up.
“It’s nothing,” Lily lied, and handed her the bus number and time she’d written down. “That one leaves at eleven forty-three, heading south. You set up an anonymous email account on the new phone?”
She nodded.
“Okay, go ahead and buy a ticket now. Once you get to a big station, you can head anywhere from there. I’m told there should be three hundred dollars on the debit card, so keep track of that.”
Lily scanned the dark road as they drove, but she didn’t spy any cars, and then they were on the highway, heading into the brief, black lull of isolation between this town and the next. Buses parked at the big truck stop there for a meal break.
The young woman next to her put off waves of fear that ratcheted Lily’s own muscles into a tight ache. Amber kept looking back at the road behind them, though Lily wasn’t sure if she was watching for cars or saying goodbye to Herriman. Whichever it was, she was sure they might both explode with tension before they made it past the wheat fields to the faint glow on the horizon beyond. The fear and uncertainty, the haunting terror of an utterly unknown future . . . Lily hadn’t faced what Amber was facing, but she’d dealt with that sick feeling of losing the ground beneath her and fearing she might lose her grip on her own child.
She’d come to this town hoping she might re-create her own childhood, even hoping she might re-create some family. But her stepmother had looked right through her whenever they’d crossed paths, and she’d only seen her teenaged half brothers from a distance. With her father dead, no one was interested in bringing Lily into the fold, not even when she’d desperately needed help.
But Amber wasn’t just alone. She was running for her life.
When they finally emerged from the darkness into the first sprawl of lights and houses, Lily glanced over to see a glint of silent tears on pale skin. “Amber?” she said gently. “Are you okay?”
She shook her head first; then she nodded, but she didn’t say a word; she only took a band from her pocket, pulled her blond hair into a low ponytail, and tugged up the hood of her sweatshirt to hide as much of herself as she could.
“You ordered the ticket just fine?”
“Yeah.”
Lily reached past her to pop open the glove compartment and withdraw a travel pack of tissues. “Take these.”
That surprised a watery laugh from the woman. “Thanks. I guess I’ll need them.”
Lily wanted to ask a hundred more questions as the giant sign illuminated with food-court choices finally peeked up in the distance. Do you have family? What’s your plan? How will you take care of your baby? Will you really stay gone? But she asked nothing even as she pulled into the huge, glaringly lit parking lot.
“Can I . . . ?” The woman swallowed hard. “Can I wait here in the car? Until the bus arrives?”
“Sure.” Lily didn’t pick up her phone, but she wanted to. Everett was fine. If he woke up and looked for her, he’d call. But when was the last time he’d searched her out in the middle of the night? Maybe a year ago after a nightmare? Two years?
He’d had so many at first. He’d cried for his dad, who’d been such a force of nature and charisma when he wasn’t caught up in work.