Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 132892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
“Thank you,” I said, feeling dazed.
“You’re welcome,” she replied. “Watch your dad and see how he’s doing. The medication should be mostly out of his system by now, although it varies by person. If he continues to clear up, that’s important information his doctor needs to know. It could’ve been causing a lot of his symptoms.”
“Thank you,” I repeated as she hung up the phone, stunned. Gage looked at me.
“You okay?” he asked. I nodded slowly.
“I think they just told me that Dad’s memory problems might be caused by medication,” I said, feeling stunned. “I mean, consider how well he’s done since we got here. You’d expect him to be more confused, seeing as we evacuated so fast and nothing is familiar. But he’s done really well, even in a strange place.”
Gage’s eyes widened.
“Damn, that’d be amazing.”
“I know. I’m also too scared to hope, but it makes so much sense. According to Mary, he didn’t start to fall apart until after Mom died, and that’s when he started taking it. It’s hard to wrap my head around.”
Gage laughed. “He’s a tough old bastard, no question. If anyone could pull it off, it’d be Tom.”
I turned to hug him, feeling happier than I had in a long time. I still didn’t know if I had a home waiting for me in Hallies Falls, but in that moment it didn’t matter. I had people who cared about me. Real people. And maybe I wasn’t going to lose my dad after all. It felt too good to be true, but it really did explain so much.
“I’ve got an idea,” Gage said as I relaxed in his arms, feeling like a huge weight had been lifted.
“What’s that?”
“Let’s celebrate.”
I raised a brow. “And how do you want to celebrate?”
“Like this,” he said, pulling me over him on the lounger, resting my knees on either side of his hips. I wiggled, enjoying the feel of him between my legs, then leaned down to give him a long, slow kiss.
“I like celebrations,” I whispered. “I like them a lot.”
• • •
We left Dad and Mary in Coeur d’Alene early the next morning, taking Gage’s pickup truck and pulling a trailer behind us. If there’d been a miracle and the house was still standing, maybe we’d be able to salvage something.
We were ten miles outside of Hallies Falls when I got a text message from Darren, showing a picture of their home. Nothing left but the garage.
“Fuck,” I said, holding it out for Gage to see. His mouth tightened. “I wanted to ask him to go look at my place, but I’m scared.”
“We’ll be there soon enough,” Gage said. “Let him focus on his family.”
I nodded, looking out the window at the landscape. Poor Carrie—she’d be devastated. They all got out alive, I reminded myself. That’s what really matters. The road to Hallies Falls was like something out of a war movie—scorched and barren, although some of the biggest trees still stood. We’d passed three burned-out farms, and at one point I saw a clump of cows staring at us blankly. Then we crested the hill leading down to town, and my mouth dropped.
You could see a line where the planes had dropped the red fire retardant. That must’ve been where the firefighters took their stand, I realized. They’d saved what they could and left the rest to burn. Half the town was blackened, buildings no more than skeletons, while the other half looked almost untouched. Well, untouched except for ash and the red stuff. My place should be right on the line between them. Straining, I tried to catch a glimpse of it, but couldn’t.
“Damn,” Gage said. “Looks rough down there.”
I didn’t answer, clenching my fists while we cruised down the hill, slowing as we reached the outskirts. On this side there was hardly any damage at all, aside from the filth and ash covering everything. People I’d known my entire life stood outside their homes, some dazed or crying while others worked with grim purpose. We passed the high school—still intact—and then cruised past where the post office used to stand. Now the building that’d stood tall for nearly a hundred years was a blackened shell.
“Rebuilding will be hard,” Gage said. I stared ahead, torn between desperation to see my home and absolute terror that I’d find another blackened ruin. As Gage turned down the street I’d grown up on, we passed a burned-out house and then another. After that, though, the houses were still standing, and then I saw it.
My home.
The building was a mess.
Most of it was coated in the reddish-orange fire retardant, and the rest was covered in ash. I’d never seen anything more beautiful in my life.
“They saved it,” I breathed, choking up. Gage reached over to squeeze my hand.
“Looks like it.”
“Oh shit,” I said, laughing nervously. “Look at your bike . . .”