Right Where We Belong. Brenda Novak
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her faith so that she’d talk more freely about him.
Gavin popped open a beer and took a long pull. “So...what brings you to California?”
When he glanced at her left hand, she realized he was checking for a wedding ring. Because she’d shown up out of the blue, and hadn’t given him much of an explanation, he was trying to figure out who she was and what she was doing in Silver Springs alone with two children, trying to move into an old, dilapidated house. “I’m no longer married,” she said, even though it wasn’t the answer to the question he’d voiced.
He didn’t act surprised that she’d correctly interpreted his thoughts. “Is that new?”
“Yes.” The divorce wasn’t final, but she didn’t care to go into the details. She didn’t consider herself married anymore; that was the salient part. Gordon had refused to sign the papers, was trying to convince her that he still loved her and was wrongly accused, but her attorney insisted that once he was convicted, especially of such heinous crimes, he wouldn’t be able to waylay the process any longer. The law would then be entirely on her side. “I’m starting over.”
“Do you plan on living next door for any length of time?”
“At least a year. I’m a half owner, remember? I figure I might as well take advantage of that. Why pay rent?”
He looked pained when he said, “I see the logic. But how much did your father tell you about the condition of the place?”
“I know it’s not in good shape. Fixer-uppers rarely are.”
“I doubt this one’s even livable.”
“That’s okay. I’m here to make it livable.”
“Then you have some experience with renovating?”
She took a drink of water. “No, but there’s a tutorial for everything on YouTube these days.”
When he laughed, she couldn’t help smiling. She liked that he immediately knew she was joking. Gordon would’ve freaked out and set her straight on how difficult restoring a house would be. He’d always taken everything so literally. “Maybe there’s a video on how to back a twenty-foot trailer down a narrow country road in the dark,” he said, and opened his laptop. “Should we check?”
“Why not? Might save you the trip into town,” she replied, but she could tell he wasn’t serious, either.
“I don’t mind dropping you off.” He called up his browser and typed in “The Mission Inn, Silver Springs, CA.”
“What’d you do for a living in Utah?” he asked while a list of links began to appear.
“I was an administrative assistant in an insurance office.” She considered adding what Gordon had done to contribute—no way could they have survived on her income alone—but bit her tongue. The less she said about him, the better.
“Oh, an administrative assistant. I should’ve guessed,” he said.
“Guessed?” she echoed.
“Office work. Contracting. It’s the same thing.”
It was her turn to laugh. “What about you? What do you do for a living?” She gestured toward the guitar he’d carried in when he let them into his house. “Or does this give it away?”
“I write and sing, gig now and then. But I also have a day job.”
“Doing...”
After he clicked on the website for the Mission Inn, he keyed the phone number into his cell. “Maintenance and repair at New Horizons Boys Ranch.”
“You don’t mean ‘ranch’ as in ‘ranch,’ right? You’re talking about one of those boarding schools for teenage boys who act out?”
“Yeah. We take in troubled kids. Quite a few have been through some traumatic—” he seemed about to say “shit” but substituted as he glanced at her children “—stuff. Others are just angry. Or narcissistic. Or both.”
“They have boys ranches in Utah, too. My husband—my ex-husband now—was shipped off to one for a year.” She lowered her voice so that Branson and Alia, who were trading sips of their sodas, wouldn’t be likely to catch what she said. “I should’ve taken that as the warning sign it was and stayed away from him.”
Her neighbor’s smile disappeared. “I graduated from New Horizons.”
She felt her face begin to burn. Why had she said that? She’d decided not to talk about Gordon, not to drag all that negativity to this new location with her. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean... Well, everyone’s different. No two stories are the same.”
“It’s okay,” he said, but from that moment on he was all business. He helped her get a room for a hundred dollars per night and delivered her, Branson and Alia to town.
“Thanks for your help,” she said as they got out of his truck.
“No problem.”
She wished there was something she could say to cover for her earlier gaffe. She’d been tired and frustrated that she couldn’t get through to the house after making such a long drive, or she would’ve been more careful with her words. But he’d indicated he worked at New Horizons. She’d assumed he’d understand how conflicted, even dangerous, some of the boys who went to those places could be. She’d never expected him to say he’d been on the other side, as well.
She thought about offering him another apology but figured it was better to let it go. “’Night.”
As long as the day had been, and as exhausted as she was from driving so far while trying to keep her kids happy and entertained, Savanna lay awake. Alia slept beside her and Branson slept alone in the other double, since he’d recently started wetting the bed. Fortunately, what Gavin had told her turned out to be true. The Mission Inn was a decent motel, as good or better than any in Nephi. So she wasn’t uncomfortable, just filled with restless anxiety. Relocating had been such a big decision. She’d taken her children away from everything and everyone they’d known so far. Now that she was back in California, she could only hope she’d made the right decision—for all of them.
The fact that she hadn’t even known she’d have to cross a bridge to get to the house where they’d be living told her there would be other surprises. Would she be able to handle them?
She hoped so, but Gordon’s betrayal had left her shaken. She’d never felt this unsure of the future. He’d essentially burned down her whole life.
One day at a time. She had to live in the moment.
But this moment would lead to the next moment, which meant the sun would soon rise, and she wasn’t prepared for the day. Her new neighbor hadn’t made any specific plans with her when he dropped her off, hadn’t given her a set time when he’d pick her up. He’d simply said, “See you tomorrow.” Had she offended him when she made that boys ranch comment? Would Gavin really come back? Or would she have to find someone else to help her cross the creek so that she could move in?
She needed to get some sleep or she wouldn’t be able to cope. But the glowing numerals on the alarm clock between the beds mocked her reluctance to see the minutes pass. She turned the clock away and accidentally knocked her phone to the floor.
As she checked to make sure it was still charging—she didn’t want to go another day without the conveniences it provided—she saw that her mother-in-law had sent her another hateful text, which must’ve come in while her phone was dead.
How can you fire Gordon’s attorneys? Do you know what kind of defense he’ll get from a public defender? NO defense! Are