Packing took us less than an longer than usual considering we owned very few things. Before leaving we stopped at the B&B to let Grace know we were going. She had returned to her bubbly self – the broom tucked back away in the closet – she gave us both a tight hug.
"Now I expect you both back in July. And don't let this vacation time get to your head, I don't want you two to come back here and be on that California time."
We made our way on foot to the train station, walking on the side of the road then meandering onto the forested path. It was after dinner and the summer sun was sinking into the tree line as the birds called overhead. This time of day was my favorite, second only to a full moon at midnight.
The world seemed to slow down as the temperatures shifted and the wildlife settled in for the night. Evenings were a liminal space, between dawn and dark. They were paradoxical, uncertain, yet constant. I could never predict the color of the sunset of the scale of warmth the sun would cast on the blades of grass. But I knew it would always be there, and that I would feel safe.
"It reminds me of you." I turned to Lyle before realizing that all had been said in my head.
Patiently she waited for me to explain as the crunch of sticks tracked our progress through the woods.
"You're constant. I didn't understand at first why, I didn't know how someone could stick around through the knowing and not knowing – and maybe I still don't completely. But I'm thankful for it." I raised our intertwined fists. "It's like we kept meeting and loosing each other and then meeting again."
"We've been through a lot."
"But we're still here."
"We are." She smiled at me then stopped.
Cupping my face in her hands we kissed. The fading sunlight pin pointing the freckles in her eyes as we pulled away.
We walked a few more minutes in silence. As we did, I caught her looking over her shoulder a few times. She tried to hide it, faking as though she was brushing her hair or a bug off her backpack strap but I knew exactly what she was looking for. The question was if she thought she'd find it.
The third time I caught her I asked, "Do you think they have Smith and Jones in custody too?"
She froze and gave me a sheepish look. "I hope so."
"Would they come after us?"
She ran her free hand through her hair. "Not with what the police know."
I bit at my lip recalling the day of Monroe's arrest. Frankie drove us to the police station where he had already set up a meeting with his friend on the force. Beth and Ivy met us there. At first we met only with Frankie's connection, refusing to speak to any other officer for fear that they were on Monroe's bankroll.
Lyle and I testified to Monroe's actions at the pond, and his ordered attack at Beth and Ivy's. We each filled in the details trying as best we could to recall the exact date and times of his threatening phone call and visits to X-Enterprises. Beth and Ivy did the same providing access to their home which was untouched since the day of the attack, and described the officer to a sketch artist.
Frankie covered Monroe's fraudulent business dealings hinting at components of Monroe's finances that necessitated a closer look.
It'd only been three days but we hadn't heard anything more. I assumed updates would be hitting the majors news publications and tabloids – if they hadn't already. Since we'd unplugged the television and avoided the newspapers that got delivered to the B&B Lyle and I were not up to date.
At first it was intentional to completely unplug, but then it became more of a habit. Something to guard against shock or reliving trauma. Just as I had attempted to bar Monroe from my mind it was easier to shut out any news that would point our focus to him.
Finally I'd found one thing that my curiosity could be patient with.
The stop for Frankie's town was the last on the route and most riders had already left when we exited the train car. Hugging my duffle bags to my chest we searched for Frankie.
"Good lord." Lyle mumbled under her breath as we both laid eyes on our friend.
He stood at the end of the concrete platform waving his arms wildly. In his hands a cardboard sign with our names scrawled in sharpie marker. Our names however were not separated and the sign looked more like it was bearing the name of a European island or an endangered flower, MayLyle.
"Trains always late!" He huffed before even saying hello.
Lyle check the time on her phone. "We're actually early." She showed him the time but he shooed it away.
"Your clock must be off." He replied tucking the sign under his arm.
"And your sign making skills are shit." Lyle shot back.
"It's your couple name." Frankie pulled out the sign again and pointed to his simple craftsmanship. "See."
Lyle rolled her eyes and walked past him.
"I missed this." I grinned at their sibling like rivalry.
Frankie rolled his eyes but just as surely pulled me into a hug.
Frankie lived twenty minutes from the station. His car resembled a Delorean and I rode shotgun with Lyle crammed in the backseat. On the train ride over I tried to imagine what kind of home Frankie would live in. All I could picture was a one room apartment with chip bags sprawled across every flat surface and wires lacing the ground. A mattress in the bathtub would be the only piece of furniture, and of course impeccable wifi.
As we rolled to a stop in front of Frankie's home I had to do a double take. Even in the darkness the rustic craftsmanship of the three story house stood out from the wall of trees in the late evening.
Lanterns lit up a gravel driveway and illuminated each window and doorway. The brick façade stretched the length of three of my cabins and in the middle a massive wooden door flanked by two elegant stain glass windows.
"Have you ever been here?" I asked Lyle completely flabbergasted by the beauty of the home.
She nodded simply as I lunged out of the car.
"How come you never told me about this." I pointed at the sconces before turning to the wood door. On the door just above the knob were carvings of two birds appearing to perch on the brass.
I turned to Frankie who seemed quiet amused by my look of surprise. "Built it myself." He grinned sidling up to Lyle and I after she exited the cramped car.
"No way."
"Yea you're right." He conceded then flexed his stringy biceps. "Look at these arms, I'm no brick layer."
As we followed him into the house I asked how in the world did he come to own such a secluded mansion of a home. Naturally he mumbled something about a poker game and left it at that.
"Downstairs is yours." Frankie held his arms.
He turned on more lights as we journeyed deeper into his house. The rooms were sparse with minimal furniture and decorations. An entrance the size of my front room led into a long hallway before opening up into a beautiful open living room and kitchen combination. To our right a staircase twisted out of sight - I assumed to where Frankie conducted his business.
I set my duffle bag on the kitchen counter similar to the one at the B&B though the entire room was twice the size of ours.
"You must be one hell of a poker player."
"Want to find out for yourself?"
"Maybe later." Lyle plaquated as she watched me wander around the kitchen.
I stuck my head into the fridge. Two boxes of children's yogurt sat on the top shelf along with six cups of jello. The rest of the shelves were filled with pudding.
"Frankie, how are you not deficient in every vitamin known to man?" I said but relented and grabbed a chocolate pudding for myself. I held one out to Lyle too.
"You only eat pancakes." He countered, running over to grab two tapioca pudding cups for himself.
"I hope you have flour and butter." I replied eyeing the cabinets but knowing that the only thing resembling flour in this house would be Cheeto dust.
"I don't need to take this in my own home!" He flicked his pudding filled spoon narrowly missing my head.
Before I could retaliate he scurried to the back wall. I hadn't noticed it before since the kitchen was in a nook of the house and partially walled off from what I assumed to be a bedroom or bathroom.
Covering a third of the open face back wall Frankie flung open one of the two sliding glass doors and disappeared into the night. Pudding cups in hand Lyle and I followed.
A thin patio stretched the length of the building and then faded into the grassy edge. More lanterns were set out along the patio border and led a path into the darkness. Fire fly's dotted the area, their light creating a magical aura about the place. Trees hugged the house on either side and thinned out along the pathway of lanterns. In the late hour it was impossible to see much of anything more than ten feet away and the moon was yet to show her face.
Frankie sat in one of the patio chairs - already on his second cup of pudding.
We joined him on a body length chair of our own. I lay on my side snuggling into Lyle as she and Frankie got into a light argument about the merits of rice pudding. The air was warm enough where all I needed for a blanket was Lyle's arm around me and in moments I was asleep.
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