This fuels my curiosity further. “Where are they all now?”
“I imagine Nathan put them away somewhere. I gave them all to him.”
“Great. If you ever find anything else, please let me know.” I’m relieved when she agrees and hastily get back to my dusting. I shake every book, old and new, but find nothing else. I’m not sure why I’m interested. I don’t even know if the paper in my pocket is a note. I’m definitely going to find out later when I’m away from curious eyes.
Jeanine leaves at eleven and I quickly start on lunch, glad to be busy again. Every day I come up with something even messier to make. I swear I’m doing this just so I have something to do.
Nathan doesn’t come down, even after I’ve finished and sit at the table picking at my food. I don’t blame him. Things are weird between us right now.
The weather isn’t too bad so I pull on my walking boots and jacket after lunch and head out into the cool air. It’ll be autumn soon and I can’t wait. I can only imagine what these beautiful trees will look like when their leaves die in the most colourful way. It’s a sad notion, it’s sad when anything dies, but at least new leaves will grow in their place. Unlike Caleb. I’ll never be able to replace Caleb.
This baby will never be able to have that father slot filled. I hold true to my word, the word I gave Caleb when he made me promise to never leave him.
I’ll never leave him, never.
No man will ever replace him.
With my chalk in hand, I go a different route this time, my feet steady and sure as I plod along, marking the tree trunks as I go. This time I’m heading behind the house and through the trees that way. I’m not sure why but I just feel like this is the place I want to go this time. The trees are a lot thinner here and there is a foot path covered in small twigs and rocks. I still don’t risk not marking the trees, even though there’s a path to follow. I’ll probably get lost either way.
As I walk along the dirt trail I pull the folded square from my pocket and slowly start to peel it open. It’s not a note. It’s a picture.
I gasp when I see what it is and instantly close it out of shock. It’s Caleb, stark naked, aged seven at least. Blinking through my shock I open it again and laugh at the scowl on his face. He doesn’t look happy being photographed nude, not that I blame him.
He’s stood in front of a window, the light making his hair shine. I smile. He was adorable. Tears fill my eyes.
This is the only photo I’ve seen of Caleb as a child and, naked or not, I’m keeping it. I refold it and tuck it back into my pocket, happy to have a piece of Caleb with me as I continue along the trail.
My side is aching. I shouldn’t have started walking so soon after eating. Oh well. I’m nearly at a clearing of some sort. Can’t go back now.
When I make it to the edge of the trees, I nearly stumble on a fallen branch but manage to right myself at the last second. The grass here is long, at least up to my thighs. What if there are rats?
Who am I kidding? There most definitely will be rats, or foxes, or some kind of nature that wants to kill me.
Ooh, what’s that?
My eyes pick up a piece of charred wood in the distance, poking over the long grass. Now I’m focusing on it, I see more charred pieces. How odd.
I really want to explore but I daren’t wade through this jungle. Huff.
After a moment’s deliberation I step forward, my leg instantly swallowed by the grass. I can do this. I can. My other leg comes forward.
The wind picks up making the grass sweep to the side like a million tiny hands beckoning me further.
Fuck this.
My rapidly beating heart urges me away. I follow its warning and run back the way I came. I’m never doing that again. Never.
Shudder.
I make it back home in record time due to the fact I’m running from imaginary rats that are nipping at my heels. My already ragged breath leaves me in a long heave as I make it inside and slam the door behind me. I place my forehead against it, relieved to still be alive.
I’m never going that way again.
Once my trembling has subsided I turn, only to crash into a familiar chest. Why was he standing so close? “Sorry, didn’t see you.”
“I’ve been stood here for three minutes.” He smirks as I lean back to look up at him. His hands are gripping my biceps tightly but not too tight. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, just imaginary demon rats,” I mumble, causing him to cock his head in question. “Nothing. I was walking… ooh.” I click my fingers. “I came across a field back there.”
His body tenses. “Where?”
“Behind the house. I could see a load of charred wood.”
“Oh.” He runs his tongue over his lower lip. “It’s an old barn that burned down not long after my grandfather died.”
I cringe and place my hand on his chest between us. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Hmm,” he says but he looks pained to say it. He must have loved his grandfather very much. “Stay away from there. There are probably rats and other vermin I daren’t name.”
“I knew it,” I whisper, my eyes narrowed and my mind flicking through images of demon rats lying in wait to feast on my poor pregnant body. “Did you eat lunch?”
He nods. “I did.”
“If there’s anything you want in particular, just let me know.”
“You don’t have to cook for me all of the time,” he says irritably. “That’s not why you’re here.”
“I know.” I give him a shrug and manoeuvre past him. “Cooking is my passion I guess, or it used to be before…” Caleb. “But now it’s just a way to get through the day.”
“We should start setting up the nursery. How long do you have left?”
My mind goes blank for a moment. I never expected him to bring it up but I’m glad he has. “Less than seventeen weeks.”
“That soon?” He shudders a little. “I hope you know that I have no idea what I’m doing and no intention of stepping into Caleb’s shoes. I’ve never even held a baby. To be honest, they freak me out and gross me out all at the same time.”
Oh. “Oh. Is that…”
“I’ll do my best to help you but I think if you need it, we’ll hire a nanny or a professional of some sort.”
“I’m sure I can manage,” I lie because there’s no way I’ll be able to manage on my own. I have no idea what I’m doing either. I’ve never held a baby, never even been near a baby, and children freak me out too. This is why I can’t blame him or hate him for his admission.
“Caleb was great with kids from what I can recall,” he says and my heart plummets. “Always smiling, always happy and playful. The kids flocked to him.” His hand comes up to cup my cheek and his thumb presses against the corner of my mouth. “So I’m guessing the key is to be happy and smiling whenever in the presence of a tiny person.”
Gulp. “I don’t think that applies to new-borns.”
His thumb lingers for a moment before his hand falls away. “We’ll figure it out.” We? “There aren’t many places nearby that sell furniture suitable for an infant. I’ll take you into the city next week.”