Jase positioned himself in front of the window and smiled broadly and firmly. “Ms. Harlow’s been kind enough to give me a tour of the changes in town, but I guess I’d better get her home now.”
Ray seemed uncomfortable. “Yeah.” He backed off toward his own vehicle. “Uh, well, gotta scram-o. Mi esposa expected me about fifteen minutes ago.” Clicking his door open, he climbed in, waved at Jase, backed around in a spray of gravel, and was gone.
*
Laurel braced herself for questions about his friend’s reaction to her when Jase got back in the car, but all he did was start the car and turn to pull out.
“That was Ray Espinoza,” he said, driving slowly to the exit. “He was telling me Bosque Bend has some new construction east of town.”
“Yeah. I recognized him once he got up close.”
Of course she did. Ray’s younger brother had been one of the boys paid off to keep his mouth shut. Sarah’s father had arranged it all. He’d visited the house almost daily back then, keeping Daddy up-to-date on negotiations and picking up more big settlement checks. Whenever Mama spotted Mr. Bridges crossing the street, briefcase in hand, she’d flee to her bedroom, now separate from Daddy’s, which meant Laurel had to be the one to usher him into her father’s study.
Jase glanced out his window at the pale twilight, crisscrossed by garish streamers of pink and purple clouds. “It’s going to be semilight for at least an hour yet—I’d like to check the area out.”
“What area?” She’d lost track of what they were talking about.
“Ray’s subdivision. Is it across the river?”
She nodded. “Yeah, it’s called Lynnwood, after his sister. Lots of new families with little kids. I used to teach at their elementary school.”
*
The sodium vapor lights were coming on, one by one, as Jase turned onto Lynnwood Drive and entered the subdivision. The heat of the day had died down, and the neighborhood residents had moved outside for the evening, the adults sitting in lawn chairs and quaffing iced tea while their children yelled back and forth and raced from lawn to lawn.
Laurel stared out the window. How many of those children had been in her classes last year? Did they miss her? Was their new teacher keeping up the after-school piano lessons she had offered?
Finally they ran out of streets. Jase leaned back and exhaled slowly, apparently having satisfied his curiosity about Ray Espinoza’s development.
He turned to her, his dark eyes smiling. “Okay, Sacagawea, how the hell do I get to my old house from here?”
*
The night had gone totally dark by the time they pulled into the driveway.
He knew this house by heart. He’d hated it when he lived here, but for some reason, he hadn’t sold it when he got rid of Beat Down after Growler died. Maybe because it was his last link with Bosque Bend and Laurel Harlow. Or maybe because he needed a sense of his own origin, his life path. This was his home.
He paused at the door. Home—an interesting concept. Somewhere deep inside, he still thought of this little house, where the worst of his life had been lived, as his home. His brow wrinkled. Perhaps everyone yearns for that kind of underpinning, to know one’s origins. Was that what Lolly was trying to find in her search for her mother? Was she looking for an extended family, a heritage? Not that he knew anything about Marguerite in regard to her family. She never talked about anything personal. Even in bed, their relationship was instructor-student.
He turned his key in the lock. “I decided to keep it for income after Growler died. Hired a crew to update everything and replace the porch steps, then got the drive paved and the lawn sodded. Of course, the Bosque River still runs thirty yards behind the house, but some people see that as a plus.”
Laurel nodded. Sixteen years ago, she’d walked right in a door that opened at a push. What if the house had been locked up that Saturday morning? Would they still be here together right now? How much had that fateful day determined their current relationship?
Jase flicked the switch beside the door. Laurel blinked as a sudden flood of light ricocheted off the stark white walls. The air in the house was fresh and the temperature comfortably cool, which meant not only had the place been cleaned up and repainted, but central air had been installed somewhere along the line as well.
He turned toward the front bedroom. “I’ll just be a few minutes. Have to grab my gear.”
So, he’d automatically taken his old room.