“Caleb, it’s okay. I wanted you to meet River anyway.” Then glancing at my strong, but tender man loading his car, I add, “I’m actually going to stay at his house until I can get this mess cleaned up.”
Nodding his head, he asks, “Mind if I take a look?”
Scrubbing my eyes with my palms from the pure mental exhaustion of the whole day, I tell him, “Not at all, but it’s a wreck. Police think a gang of kids broke in since nothing was taken.”
He walks inside.
River comes back and I wrap my arms around him, resting my head on his shoulder. “Thank you.”
Snaking his arms around my waist, he kisses my nose. “You don’t have to thank me, Dahlia.”
Loosening my embrace, I search his eyes. “Caleb is a Navy Seal and Ben’s best friend since we were seven. We all grew up together on the beach.”
He shrugs his shoulders as he releases me and grabs my hand. “What’s he doing in there?”
“He said he wanted to check it out.”
“Why?”
“No idea,” I say as I follow beside him, but stop at the doorway. “I don’t want to go back in there, River.”
“Okay baby, let me just see if he’s finished and we’ll go.”
Watching River walk down the hall that leads to what used to be Ben’s bedroom and mine feels strange to me. If it bothers River, he does a great job of hiding it, and I suddenly realize that finding my past in pieces has actually brought me closer to my future.
Before leaving the house, River and Caleb walked through it, securing all the windows and doors. They didn’t have long conversations or even really look at each other, but they did agree they would meet here on Saturday to move the unsalvageable furniture from the house to the curb. The police found no evidence of forced entry, which bothers me. How did someone get in? One officer told me the perpetrator knew what they were doing and probably picked one of the old locks. Then he added that maybe they had a key. I found this unsettling and preferred to think it was what the other officer had told me; that teens broke in for their own sick fun. Either way, whoever did this, did it with the intent of making my home a battlefield. It doesn’t matter who it was, what they did is unforgivable.
Pulling out of my driveway with every salvageable memento in the back of my 2009 white Audi Q7, I can clearly see my home’s exterior is in need of just as many repairs as its interior now is. I’ve known the siding needed re-shingling and the roof needed replacement for a long time. Ben and I had planned to make those improvements. They were top on our list, but when our list became my list, I just didn’t care anymore about it or the house. Now, for some reason, I do. Its sad, broken condition reminds me so much of myself before I met River. I just want to reach out and heal it like River has helped heal me. But just like me, it’s no easy fix. Sure the outside repairs are simple; hire contractors to replace and repair the worn items. It’s the inside that’s not as simple and like my own healing process, it will take time.
Shaking my head, I wonder how a house left empty for only six days could now look like a war zone, and just like refugees, the battle has left me homeless. But unlike the refugees, I have a safe-haven where I can stay.