Page 18 of About Yesterday


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“Cole was one of my family’s foster kids.”

“Seriously?” Haley scowled and nibbled her bottom lip as she calculated. “That must have been after I left? I thought your parents were done taking foster kids.”

“Sophomore year, my dad got a call from this social worker friend who knew what a sucker he was. Said this kid had been out of juvie for about three months and had been in six different homes since.”

“And your dad agreed to take him in? How did he know he wasn’t going to hurtyou?”

“He was in for car theft. And I think there was a fire incident, but that was never proven.” It hadn’t taken long to learn why he’d done any of it. “When he got out, one of the foster parents was abusive, so not his fault and it was awful that he had to go through that, on top of everything he’d already been through. Other places he’d landed, well, there were curfews and house rules and so many things he… didn’t care for. Maybe a few fistfights, but he usually had a good reason.”

“Wow. You’ve got a soft spot for him,” Haley said, confusion pinging in her curious smile. “And I know Jeremy can find the good in anyone.”

“You know it. I slept downstairs in the guest bedroom the first month, while we still thought it was temporary.”

“Holy shit. How did it go? I mean, he’s there now, so something must have clicked.”

“It was rough for a while. He snuck out every night, and…” She snorted a laugh as she remembered her father’s terrible advice, but it had gone a long way toward earning Cole’s trust. “Dad told him that if he was going to get arrested, just make sure crabby Old Chief Larson didn’t catch him, as Dad was friends with most of the other cops in town, and they’d just drive him right back home. Said he knew everyone in town, and if any cars were stolen or damaged, we couldn’t afford to replace them, so please don’t steal anything locally. Drugs weren’t a problem, as Cole didn’t want to turn out like his mom. Violence against anyone undeserving wouldn’t be tolerated, but it wouldn’t get him kicked out either, as he wouldn’t learn anything with that sort of attitude. Instead, he’d have to make them apology gifts in the form of needlepoint pillowcases.”

“And did he do any of those things?”

“He got more than a few rides home, but he steered clear of Old Chief Larson, so his record stayed clear. I remember Dad sleeping on his bedroom floor so many nights early on. Mom would bribe Cole awake with peanut butter chocolate chip cookies when he refused to go to school.”

Haley picked up her wine glass, set it down again, and brushed her thumb around the base of it as she looked down at the table. “How long did he stay? I thought your parents only fostered transitionally, like a few months or so at a time.”

“That was the plan, at first. He lasted an hour at the next house, the one that was supposed to be permanent. The social worker called my dad when the cops came and wanted to take him in for assault, but, from what I gather, the oldest boy at the house liked to maintain a pecking order, and didn’t take kindly to being hit back.”

“So Jeremy went back for him?”

“Yup. You know me, I was supposed to be upstairs sleeping, but I remember sitting on the landing, just out of sight, listening as my parents cleaned him up at the kitchen table and told him exactly how it was going to be. That this was his home. Told him how special he was and that he mattered, and that we were his family now. That dinner would be on the table every night at six, but he’d have to take a day in the rotation and we’d be counting on him when it was his night to cook. That he’d always have his own bedroom, his space would be his own and he’d get privacy, but he’d have to do his own laundry and chores, just like I did. They set an allowance for him if he kept up on all his chores, just like they did for me.”

“Oh my god. I can’t even imagine. So he stayed.”

She plucked up her wine, gulping another sip and realized she was draining it so fast her head was spinning and they hadn’t even ordered yet.

“He was handy to have around,” she said, lifting her glass as she let the first few months flutter in her memory. “One night, it was super icy out. Not quite as well practiced at sneaking out, I hadn’t read the weather reports and it was like, two in the morning when I got home. My favorite tree branch was frozen solid and snapped the moment I put my weight on it.”

Their server finally made it back around to their table and took their dinner orders, and brought a second round of drinks.

“I, uh, didn’t dare try the front door.”

“That door has an awful squeak.”

“Sometimes I think they intentionally never oil it. Like an alarm. Anyway, so I went to call Cole, thinking he was in his bedroom and could come help me in.”

“He came to the rescue?”

“I was about to hit send, and I still remember the shit-eating grin on his face as he strolled up behind me and asked what I’d done to his branch.”

“Oh no.”

“We agreed to keep each other’s secrets in exchange for helping each other out.” The air had been twenty freaking degrees, and everything was coated in a sheet of ice after the prior day’s rain. They’d pulled a patio chair over, and Cole had stood on the chair, laced his hands together to make a stirrup, and hoisted her up. She’d climbed over the gutter and laid flat on her belly on the roof. She reached a hand to help him, but he had shaken his head.

They both knew damn well she wasn’t going to be able to pull him up. So he used the patio chairs to jump to a different branch, swung, and launched toward the roof. So damn slick, he slipped at the last second and caught the gutter instead. It sliced his hand open, but he managed to swing himself up.

They’d made it back in and washed him up, and he’d trusted her with the awful makeshift bandage. Of course, the next morning when her parents saw it, they took him straight to urgent care and had him patched up. That was the first time she’d taken his stitches out. Her parents had to have known what caused the bowed gutter, but they never mentioned it, nor did they ever fix it.

Their food arrived, and Trace dug into the carbonara, perfectly al dente and extra bacon-y. As she was, apparently, still patching him up, she probably ought to take a more detailed first aid class than what had been required for work. They ate in silence for a few minutes, and Trace realized they’d spent most of dinner with her rambling on about her adventures with Cole.

Haley scooped in a bite of her lasagna and patted her napkin at the corners of her mouth before lowering it back to her lap. “And now your partner in crime is back. For someone who claims she is boring, you have quite a history to claim the opposite. Only this evening, I walked in on you with your arms around a half-naked guy.”