Chapter 1

“Hi, I’m Sam,” I said, reaching out to shake the hand of my new neighbor.

“I’m Paul Tallman,” the short man answered.

“My Dad and I just moved in over the weekend,” I informed him, in case he had somehow missed the moving truck.

“I’m glad someone finally bought old man Peterson’s house. Hope you’ll keep up the yard better than he did.”

“I’m sure we will. Are there any other kids in the neighborhood?” I asked him while I wondered just how old, ‘old man Peterson’ had been. This guy was at least twice my Dad’s age.

“A couple of kids near your age live in the house across the street,” he said gesturing at the doublewide mobile across the paved rural road. The bicycles in the yard had given me a clue, but it was nice to have confirmation.

“What’s your Dad do for work?” Mr Tallman asked.

“He’s just started work at the prison, you won’t see him much, they promised him as much overtime as he was willing to take,” I explained.

“What about your mother?”

The tears didn’t come, it had even been long enough that I could keep the catch out of my voice as well. “She passed from cancer, moving here is our fresh start.”

“Hmm,” he said, “I guess with your Dad working overtime the yard is going to be your responsibility. That old place needs some fresh paint too.”

“I’ll be sure to discuss that with my Dad.”

“Good,” he said, “I’ll see you later Sam.”

I watched as he shuffled his way back up to the stairs of his single story ranch. I had caught him as he came out to his mailbox. I turned and looked at our new house. It really did need new paint. The near Victorian Craftsman home was two stories, plus attic space in the high peaked roof. A tower dominated the front left corner, and a porch wrapped around the front and down the side of the house, opposite the detached garage.

The county records said the house had been built in the mid 1800’s, but it had gotten an update in the late 70’s. It really needed another. Dad had plans for the house, but for now it was really much more house than the two of us needed.

I gathered the weekly flier from the mailbox, glad to see that the mail was being delivered, and headed into the house. I checked my phone, but no messages. I wondered just how late Dad would be again tonight.

My phone buzzed, and I checked it. A smile came to my face. Aunt Joan was on her way.

She picked me up, and took me grocery shopping. Part of why we even moved to this town was because of Aunt Joan. My Dad’s older sister had never married, but had insisted that I needed a mother figure in life. She had also insisted that since Dad had said he wasn’t interested in getting married again, that she would be that figure.

I listened as she pushed her cart along, as I followed with my own. She had reviewed my shopping list, and only added some fresh fruit to it. I had explained that I’d been doing the shopping and cooking since Mom got sick, but I don’t think she actually believed that until she saw my list.

“Your Dad simply works too much,” she seemed to conclude after a long monologue.

“He doesn’t miss Mom so much when he works,” I told her, defending him.

“Pete never did love anything but your Mom and working,” she said, then glanced up at me, “and you of course,” she hurriedly added.

“I’m old enough to be on my own. I’ll be 16 in four more weeks.”

“Yes, you do well looking after yourself, don’t you. Just a shame you have to.”

“That’s the end of my list,” I told her.

“I have a couple more items, go ahead and start checking out,” she instructed.

The cashier was friendly, and checked me out quickly. He gave me a once over a second time when Aunt Joan introduced me as her nephew. The two flirted as he checked her out, in both meanings of the term. He gave me a wink as she turned to put her last bag in the basket, which I just nodded back too.

I led the way back to her car, and put both baskets of groceries in the tiny car, then dropped the carts off at the corral. As I sat in the passenger’s seat, and clicked my seatbelt shut, she started the car and drove the three miles back to my new home.

I offered her a drink while she sat and watched me put the groceries away. She accepted, and I kept working until everything was put away. She asked about my dinner plans, and I reminded her I had a frozen pizza. She determined that she could do better, so took me out to dinner.

I sent a quick text to Dad, so he would know where I was, and where to find the frozen pizza, so he could make his own dinner if he got home before me.

When I got home, half the frozen pizza, now slightly over cooked, and a half dozen empty bottles were on the counter. I cleaned everything up and went to bed.

Tuesday I didn’t see Dad until after he came out of his room just before noon. I fixed him a sandwich, and some chips and told him about my day. Then I got his help lifting the big screen onto the mount I had installed on Monday. Once it was mounted, I got everything hooked up so it would work, he settled into his lazy boy recliner.

“When does the internet get hooked up?” he asked.

“The guy from Comcast is coming on Thursday.”

“You’ll be able to handle that?”

“Yeah, Aunt Joan is coming over to be the required on-site adult.”