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“Why?” I whisper.
Bodhi never told me this, and I don’t understand why he would think that day was his fault.
“He thought that by him filing that police report, those men retaliated by coming after you.”
I sit there, a little in shock. I can’t believe he blamed himself. I mean, is it possible that his actions are what caused those guys to come after me? Maybe. The thing is, we’ll never really know. Besides, it wouldn’t matter one way or the other, because I don’t blame him.
Life is too short to be mad at the people we love over shit that we can’t change.
“It wasn’t his fault,” I tell her.
“I told him as much, but that doesn’t change how much he’s been hurting,” she says.
I lean back into my pillows, knowing that there is still a lot we have to talk about.
“I messed up, Ma. More than once, and I am so sorry. I just really wanted to make sure you were taken care of while Eli was gone,” I tell her, watching her face soften under my admission.
“Honey, it was never your job to take care of me. I am the parent. Now, maybe I let myself slide after your brother was arrested, but that never meant you had to step up the way that you did. You are still so young, with so much life to live. I don’t want you to spend another moment worrying about me. I will take care of what I can, and anything that we can’t, we don’t,” she says, patting the back of my hand.
“But what if we lose the house?” I ask, unable to just let go of the worry I’ve held tight to all this time.
“It’s just a house, Keaton. It doesn’t matter if the people I love aren’t in it with me,” she smiles softly, and I nod, understanding. “From here on out, no more secrets. You talk to me when you have a concern and we’ll figure it out together, okay?”
“Okay,” I nod, letting her pull me into her warm embrace.
It takes me back to all the times I got into trouble as a young girl. Worried that whatever I had done would anger Ma so much that she might stop loving me so much. I remember her telling me that there was nothing in the world I could ever do to make her love me any less, and then she would hold me close and rock me back and forth until I felt better.
There is still so much she and I need to talk about, and there isn’t any reason to wait anymore.
Bodhi
“I think this is a great idea, Bo,” my mom smiles brightly as she helps me unload buckets of cleaning products from the trunk of my car.
I called her last night after I talked to Sander, filling her in on my plan.
Keaton and her mom need somewhere to stay until Mateo is found, and with me just getting the keys to my grandparents’ home, the timing was perfect. Almost too perfect, but I wasn't about to question it.
“I just hope it works,” I say, not voicing my worry that Rob might be tailed on the way here. He volunteered to pick the girls up, since it's less likely that Mateo or any of his guys will recognize Rob's car, and Sander will be following behind them as a precaution.
“I'm sure it will all workout just fine,” she says, leading the way up the paved walk toward the teal-colored front door.
The yard is overgrown, and weeds have taken over the flower beds. I wish I had more time to get the place cleaned up. I guess I'll just have to focus on the inside for now. The rest can wait until a later date.
I slide the key into the lock. It clicks and the door swings open with ease. Even after all this time. Like it's been waiting to welcome us back.
Daylight filters in through the front windows, catching dust moats as they dance and twirl to the ground, landing in the squares of buttery warm sunshine that spread out across the burgundy area rug in the living area. A thick layer of dust rests on the surface of every visible inch of the house. So much of their furniture was left behind. Just waiting for me.
“It looks just like I remember it,” my mom says, eyes scanning and taking in everything around us.
“Yeah,” I agree. The cream-colored walls are warm and inviting. It's just as I remember it being every time I came to visit as a child.
I set the bucket of cleaning products in the entryway and follow my mom into the living room.
“Well, at least most of the big stuff is covered,” she says.
Sheets cover the furniture in this room and the next.
“Is the water hooked up?” my mom asks.
