Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 466(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 466(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Conor, Hayden’s nine-year-old son, stirred in the passenger seat. Hayden watched his son out of the corner of his eye, waiting to see if he’d wake. Conor yawned, then rubbed his eyes, and then ran his hand through his short dishwater-blond hair. Hayden had taken him to get it cut before they made the cross-country trip, in time to start at his new school. It had been the first time he’d done so since Conor was a baby, when his wife, Sofia, had made his first haircut a huge celebration.
“Where are we?” he asked groggily.
“Almost there,” Hayden said in the darkened cab of the truck.
“To Grandma’s?”
“Shortly. We have to drop the camper off first.”
Conor looked behind them. Hayden did the same through the rearview. Everything they owned was in the back of the truck. The important things were in the extended cab. The camper held their clothes and whatever household supplies Hayden had kept or could fit in there. He’d live in the camper on the piece of land and break ground on their new home, while Conor would live with his grandparents. As much as Hayden hated to admit it, he needed help with his son. The single-parent life was hard, and the past year had proved he couldn’t do it alone.
Conor sighed and straightened. “I miss Mom.”
“Me too,” Hayden said automatically. It’d been his response every time Conor said it. The truth was, as much as he missed his wife, he was angry with her. Her death could’ve been prevented if she had called him for a ride home.
Hayden turned slowly and drove a half mile until the empty lot came into view. He turned and pressed the gas until his front tires slowly climbed the curb and repeated the action until the camper was on the land. In the dusk of twilight, Hayden unhitched and secured his temporary home and then drove over to his parents’ house.
As soon as he pulled up, Conor was out of the truck and running toward his grandmother, who stood at the top of her porch with outstretched arms. Hayden parked and took his sweet time getting out of the truck, pausing to gather their overnight bags.
“Hayden,” his mother said as he approached the porch.
“Hey, Mom.” Darcy McKenna hugged her son and let him go only when Hayden’s father, Lee, interrupted. “Hey, Dad.”
Lee and Darcy McKenna were well-known and well-liked pillars of the community; not a soul in town didn’t know and love the McKenna family. Lee had been the town doctor and Darcy his nurse. Both were born and raised in Oyster Bay. Darcy was petite, with blond hair and bright-blue eyes, while Lee was a bit taller than the average person, with light-brown hair and hazel eyes. Since retirement, he liked his beer, but his beer didn’t like him much and went right to his waistline.
His parents hadn’t been able to make Sofia’s funeral. They were on a cruise in Europe, and by the time they received Hayden’s message, they hadn’t had enough time to get to Wyoming for the service.
“Need me to get anything from the truck?” Lee asked.
“Nah, we’re good. Hungry, though. Right, sport?”
“Sure,” Conor said as he headed inside.
Darcy sneaked under her son’s arm, placed one arm along his back, and patted his stomach with her free hand. “Food, we have.”
“That’s about all he wants these days,” Hayden said as they made their way inside.
The house Hayden grew up in had drastically changed over the years. Long gone were the wood-paneled walls, mustard-colored carpet, and aged linoleum. Five years ago, the McKennas had gutted their house from top to bottom and created an open-concept living space in grays, whites, and shades of blue. They’d remodeled the bathrooms with walk-in showers and a soaking tub in the primary. When all was said and done, the property value skyrocketed, which made Lee happy. This home was the one thing he owned, and no one could take it away from him.
Conor sat at the island bar, munching on chips and drinking a soda, knowing full well that doing so was against the rules. Hayden eyed him and said nothing. There was no point in arguing with his son right then. He’d give Conor one night, and then he’d enforce the rules.
“Grandma, where am I sleeping?”
“In Aunt Allie’s room,” Darcy told Conor.
Hayden’s sister lived in Los Angeles, enjoying the single life and vowing never to get married or have kids. Allie’s room was a room in name, a place to direct visitors to instead of saying “Upstairs, third door on your right.”
“When you finish, you need to brush your teeth,” Hayden told Conor. “It’s going to take some time for me to find you a dentist. I don’t need your teeth rotting out of your head.”
Conor rolled his eyes but agreed. Eye-rolling was such a nine-year-old thing to do. Hayden cared only when Conor sassed back, which thankfully wasn’t often. His son was sad, and there wasn’t much Hayden could do except be there for him.