Kyle’s truck.
He was on his way out the door early this morning when we realized the cops still have my car. I ended up dropping him off at the station so I’d have wheels to drive Bryce to Arrow’s Edge, which is where we’re heading now.
Knowing Will Parsons is in custody gives me peace of mind, and I may actually stop by the bakery when I get back to town. At the very least to hand in my notice and check in with the bakery crew. I already told Margaret I’d be by this afternoon.
The kid has been mostly quiet this morning and I don’t want to push him. After the emotional turn of events yesterday, an afternoon with his buddies may just be what the doctor ordered.
It had been heartbreaking to find him sobbing into his pillow, and I know he was mortified for me to see him that way. I wasn’t sure where to start so I told him how my parents had been older, already in their forties when I came along as a surprise. I share how I inherited Mom’s love for baking—something she did plenty of—and one of the first things she taught me was how to make monkey bread.
The monkey bread got him talking about his grandmother, where he apparently spent a large portion of his life before her health forced her to move into a long-term care facility. He still didn’t share a whole lot about his mother, only that for a long time she wasn’t a steady presence in his life.
When his grandma died and his mom moved them to Boise, he mentioned she never enrolled him in school. She’d often disappear, leaving him alone in their one-bedroom apartment, sometimes days at a time. He told me he’d pick up odd jobs cleaning people’s yards, doing groceries for a few elderly neighbors, or washing cars, just so there’d be some food in the fridge.
Last month there’d been an eviction notice on their small apartment, which is when his mom told him he’d have to go stay with the father he didn’t know he had. He broke down and cried he didn’t want to go back; he felt safe here and wanted to go to school just like other kids his age.
It broke my heart.
Then last night over dinner, we talked about logistics with Kyle going back to work. I mentioned I was thinking about handing in my notice at the bakery. Kyle looked at me oddly but didn’t say much, and I didn’t want to ask with Bryce sitting right there. That’s why I also didn’t address the money issue. I’ll wait for tomorrow when he’s rested up from his shift. Yesterday was tense enough.
He did share he’d been in touch with a lawyer and asked if I could drop off papers for him, which I plan to do when I get back to town. Then pop into the bakery, do a few hours at the shelter, and head back up the mountain to pick Bryce up. I’m thinking maybe I’ll take him out for dinner somewhere after.
“Do you need me to pick you up anything?” I ask him. “I’ve gotta make a few stops in town after I drop you anyway.”
“I don’t really need anything, but maybe…no, never mind.”
I glance over and when he looks back I slowly raise an eyebrow, making him grin.
“Let’s try that again, shall we? Anything you need from town?” I tease him.
“Maybe sometime this week could we leave a little early and stop at the library? I wanna see if I can get some books on cars.”
“For sure. I wouldn’t mind looking around either. I need to find something to do with my time other than baking.”
“Not on my account,” he protests, making me chuckle.
“You and your father are peas in a pod.”
It’s quiet as I turn into the dirt driveway up to the compound. Then he says, “You think we’re alike?”
I slip through the open gate and pull up in front of the garage, putting the truck in park before I turn toward him.
“Yeah, you are.”
“He says he wants me to stay.”
“I know.”
He glances up at me with eyes that match his father’s.
“I’d like that.”
“I know that too.” I smile at him and he shows me a lopsided grin. “How about we grab a burger in town after I pick you up this afternoon?”
“Cool,” he mutters, and unclips his seat belt.
“You’re a good kid, Bryce.” I reach over to ruffle his hair, but he ducks