Page 81 of Meant for Mayhem

I closed the newspaper and set it back where I’d found it. “Thanks for chatting with me today, Walt.”

He looked at the half-finished crossword, then at me. “So you’re coming back?”

“Yes. I’ll be here once a week.”

Another almost-smile. Barely perceptible beneath the rigidity Parkinson’s had settled across his face, but his eyes gave him away.

I was already in the hallway when his gravelly voice carried after me. “And go Yeti.”

For the first time all morning, I smiled without forcing it.

“Go Yeti.”

The rest of the day passed similarly, and when I made it to my car at the end of my shift, I was dead on my feet. Maybe that was why I opened the text thread I had muted. The one I always avoided.

Asshat

Did you leave town?

Dickwad

And no goodbye? I thought we raised you better.

I rolled my eyes, throwing the phone to the side. There were several other texts in the same thread between my brothers and me, but I deleted them all.

You owe them nothing.

Less than nothing.

Thoughts and images of all the times my family had been awful to me came to the surface, picking this already weak moment to prey on the negative thoughts spinning through my mind.

As if she could tell I needed her, my phone chose that moment to ring. Except instead of my brother’s names popping up, it was Lori.

I sat there and listened to it ring, hating that I hadn’t talked to her since I left town. I hadn’t even said goodbye, which made me feel even worse.

Like Walt’s kids, I knew she knew it wasn’t because I didn’t care.

She understood that I had to live my life.

She even understood why I had always been so desperate to get out of Linwood.

So why was I sick to my stomach over leaving her behind?

Before I could talk myself out of it, I hit accept. “Hey Lori.”

“Well, hi, sweet girl. I was thinking about you.”

I grinned, letting my head fall back against the headrest. “Same. How are you doing without me?”

“I’m good. Beckett and Emmy are taking good care of me, and Jace comes by before and after school.”

“I’m sure he’s ready for the pond to freeze over.”

“Soon enough,” Lori said. “Then I’ll never be alone.”

That made me laugh, picturing how chaotic her house got during hockey season. It was December by the time her pond froze over most years, but sometimes it would last into late March, even April. When we were kids, my brothers and the hockey team had used it as free ice time. Now, the current Mayhem did the same thing.

“Enough about me. How are you?”