Page 24 of Rootbound
I fumble for the right approach to the story until I settle for the blunt overview. “I attacked her in the woods because I thought she was a trespasser, then invited her back here to check her for… injuries. She crashed and I didn’t want to wake her to make her go back to her place.”
An eyebrow raise is my only indication that he heard me, so I offer up a few more details. Eventually, I can see he’s become lost in his own train of thought, so I go make coffee and a quick breakfast.
I bring him a cup and offer some scrambled eggs and sausage, which he declines. He’s normally such a jovial guy—opinionated to be sure, but one who normally can crack a joke and move on from tension pretty quickly. He’s good at picking up on something even when it is not exactly put down, always carrying on, making him a natural leader. So, seeing him lost to his own mood and thoughts is… new.
“Charlie… what exactly is the story there?”
That seems to get him back to earth. “It’s complicated, and then again, not,” he replies.
“Well, she’s an adult now. I’m sure she understandsthat. Maybe part of her took this job in the hopes of finding out?” I offer.
“That’s the thing,” he says with a sigh, “I don’t know if learning my side would make her want anything more to do with me anyway. Not after all this time.”
Thirteen
Tait
Once inside the privacy of my cabin, I waste no time before taking a shower hot enough to match my temper. The shower might not be in its own spa-like room, but it’s clear that the place has been done up with high end finishes. It took me a solid ten minutes to figure out the various side jets and the handheld option. Something turned on a radio, another thing turned on some lights. Long after I was done, I stood under the scalding water—hot enough to hurt a bit—until italmostsucceeded in melting the thoughts away.
Look like my mother?If only. The man had to have been blind not to see how I much I look exactly like him. Me thinking I could ever play him for a fool and have him not recognize me—it would have been futile. To be so aloof, and then to not even attempt to remedy the situation.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the confused, almost accusatory look on his face when he was drawing conclusionsabout me being at Henry’s, though. As if Charlie Logan deserves any say in my life, let alone my sex life.
I get out and catch my reflection in the mirror, looking like the Heat Miser with my reddened skin and steam curling off of me. I’m starving again, so I’m determined to get into town to buy groceries as quickly as possible before I have to start the rigmarole of getting a new camera. I check the weather app on my phone, and in the process see multiple missed texts and calls from Ava, and one missed call from Gemma.
Ava is going to have to wait until I am open to hearing her reasons for keeping me out of the loop, because for the time being, I’m oscillating between angry, confused, and hurt. I already know that I’m not in the place for hearing her side. The one thing that is unforgivable (that she is well aware of) is making me be the last to know. While she didn’t necessarily lie outright, she never once shared her true feelings—which clearly leaned more open to rekindling with the Logans, since she’s already established some form of connection. Not communicating this to me, though, when I’ve laid myself bare to her, in the depths of my most vulnerable times… I’m at a loss as to why she felt she couldn’t share.
I steer my thoughts back to the present, back to what I need to do to get this all over with as quickly as possible. I’d better get the camera resolution (again, along with my food situation) at least started before I call Gemma.
The weather is warmer than usual according to the app, so I throw on an easy sundress and my favorite denim jacket before I head out. I manage the basics with makeup, but lack the patience to dry my hair, so I leave the windows down in the truck to assist.
I’m relieved to see that both Henry and Charlie’s trucks are missing from Henry’s place, so I won’t need to deal with getting Henry off of my case with replacing the camera.
Just as I’m losing myself to the music in the truck and the warm wind coming through the windows, I see that I’m approaching the big house, and that Grady, along with another boy who looks to be around his age, are standing in the middle of the road, waiting. I inwardly groan, outwardly pound my fist lightly on the steering wheel in frustration. Can’t a girl just go get a greasy breakfast and some alone time? It’s barely six thirtyA.M.and I’ve already been swept up in this twister again. Pre-caffeine, too.
Grady ambles up to my window with a smile, and since I can’t exactly speed off in a cloud of dust without it being glaringly obvious, I return it. I’m sure it looks more like a grimace.
“Good morning!” he says, and is immediately followed by Grace coming out onto the porch and yelling “Breakfast!” before turning around and heading back inside.
“So, how about getting one meal over with, so you can leave the rest of us with something to talk about, but not enough reason for us to keep getting in your way?” Grady says, arms folded on my open window. Wise beyond his years, I suppose.
I laugh through a sigh. “Why not?” I am hungry, after all, and need to regain my footing here. I slide out of the truck and offer my hand to Grady’s friend. “Hi, I’m Tait.”
Grady chimes in before he can respond, “Oh! Sorry. This is my boyfriend, Caleb.” Caleb goes to speak again, but Grady says excitedly, “Come on, we’ve got waffles!”
I’m not shocked that he’s gay, but I am happilysurprised that he’s been made to feel so comfortable in his own skin—to the point that his boyfriend joining his family for breakfast is no big deal. My heart warms up a degree or two to the family for that. It shouldn’t be anythingbutthat way, but I’ve found across the world that it too often still is.
“Hi, it’s nice to meet you,” Caleb manages, Grady steps ahead of us. He’s almost as tall as him, with the kind of cute face that’s reserved for teenage boys and young men—the not-yet filled out look that’s both angular and soft. I immediately mentally compare that to Henry’s face, one that’s nothing but masculine, hard angles and rough edges.
The smells wafting off the porch have me swaying on my feet, but I clamp down on my dignity, and make my steps slow and determined.
I’m hit with a massive wave of nostalgia the moment we step inside, though, and feel like swaying for a completely different reason. The entry is a massive (or so I remembered it, now it seems like a normal-sized) hallway that’s filled top to bottom with photos. I avoid lingering and head toward the kitchen behind Grady and Caleb. Things have been updated, but the layout is generally the same. A big built-in dinette has been added off of what is now an open kitchen. The built-in bench part resembles a huge booth, with an oval table big enough for ten between it and the four chairs across from it on the other side. I notice now, so much more as an adult, how there’s an abundance of light in each place here, how the windows and large doors are always featuring the outdoors.
Grace smiles warmly and hands me a plate.
“We do buffet style here, so why don’t you start us off?”
“Thanks.”