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Every night when I closed my eyes, I relived the accident, except with a different member of my band family dying in Hardy’s place. I woke in a pool of sweat and with the bone-chilling fear that I’d lost another loved one until I came out of the nightmare’s fog.

I turned off the ceiling fan’s light after a trip to the bathroom, and I climbed between the soft sheets. Staring at the fan blades as they rotated above me was a little hypnotizing, and my eyes got heavy.

The slap of the screen door on the back porch caused my eyes to snap open. I glanced at my phone in the upright charger on the nightstand, seeing it was after midnight.

The footsteps in the hall stopped outside my door, so I closed my eyes and stayed perfectly still. The doorknob on my bedroom door turned and light slashed warmly across my face as the door opened a few inches.

After a few seconds, the door softly closed without a word being said, leading me to believe Thatcher was checking on me, as he probably had his daughter when she’d lived with him over summers. Why hadn’t he brought her up again since he said I could sleep in her room?

Did the two of them have a falling out and now she refused to visit? I hadn’t expected both of my parents to abandon me when I came out as queer. I still believed the only reason they came to SoCal after the accident was that River was involved, not out of worry about my injuries.

The questions came fast and furious. What happened with Thatcher’s ex-wife—or was it a former relationship with no wedding? Had he bought this house with her? Would he prefer to have her back in his life?

I had so many questions circling my brain, yet no way to approach the man to ask any of them. We didn’t really know each other, aside from the fact that we met on the worst night of my life, but that didn’t give me license to nose into his past.

The bottom line was I’d only learn about Thatcher if he chose to educate me. From the short time I’d spent with him, I couldn’t imagine why he would.

The slamming of the front door jolted me awake, though I was grateful for it. I was suffering yet another nightmare about the bus accident. For a moment, I had no idea where I was, but eventually, realization settled in.

I got up and hurried into the kitchen to see Thatcher sliding into his truck in a pair of dark-washed jeans and a black ESFD polo shirt. His gorgeous salt-and-pepper hair was still damp in the back. It was the first time I’d noticed his hair was wavy. I could imagine my fingers sinking into the silky locks while he…

“Well, stop that right now,” I said aloud to the empty house. Fantasies like that would make it difficult for me to continue living with him. At the moment, we were only renter and landlord, which was all we needed to be.

The man was obviously straight anyway. Hello! Daughter!

Two coffee makers sat on the counter near the sink, with a mostly full carafe on one of the bases. The light was glowing bright orange, signaling the umber elixir was still hot, so I grabbed a mug and helped myself. After my first mouth-burning sip, I was happy to find that, much like me, Thatcher enjoyed a bolder roast than Riv and Kit.

Returning with my mug, I noticed a sticky note on my bedroom door I’d missed when I hurried out.

JD-

Coffee’s fresh and there’s cut-up fruit in the fridge if you want some. The pot goes off at nine. Don’t dump it, please. I’ll heat up a cup in the microwave tonight if there’s any left. I’ll probably be home around three. If you need anything, I’ve got my cell.

-T

I glanced at my phone to see it was just after seven in the morning, so I had the whole day to myself. That was exactly what I needed.

After a quick refresh, I pulled on shorts and a T-shirt. I tied up my long hair, grabbed my notebook and phone, and headed out to the back porch.

Those yellow Adirondack chairs were calling to me, and after sitting in one, I put my bare feet up on the railing and slumped comfortably. I turned on the melody River had recorded on my phone for the song we planned to dedicate to Hardy, then opened the notebook to the page where I’d written the lyrics the previous day. I closed my eyes.

The waves lapping at the shore provided a rhythmic percussion to Riv’s music. My mind wandered back to the first time I laid eyes on Thatcher from my seat on a stretcher in an ambulance after the wreck. His expression had been one of deep concern, and it warmed me to my soul.

Till I Find Home

Late at night, I call your name

There’s no response, always the same

Memories fill my head like clouds

Your absence in the room is very loud

We lived our dreams under starry skies

Now I’m lost where the darkness lies

Your smile was the light to guide me home