Chapter Twenty-Six

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Chapter Twenty-Six

Bowie

Instead of driving home, River followed a road leading to his old neighborhood. I didn't ask where he wanted to go, but as we pulled up to his old home, I knew he wanted to close a chapter in his life, now that his Dad was gone.

Mom and Dad didn't get an answer from him as they asked where he'd move to, so River had no idea where his father went. He didn't seem to care about that though.

I looked over at him, waiting for him to tell me what he was up to. "Do you think someone moved in there already?" he asked, and I turned to look through the foggy window. "I'm not sure. But the path up to the door has been cleared. Wanna go check?" I asked, and he nodded.

We got out of the car and walked up the path to the door. There was a name written next to the doorbell, and I leaned in to read it.

"Marge and Philip Sanders," I said, looking back up at River. "I recognize those names. I think this couple once lived close to the park and I remember them walking their dog."

River nodded, then studied the door for a while before ringing the doorbell. I stepped back but stayed close to him while I wrapped both arms around his.

"It's quiet in there," River whispered. But before we turned to leave the front porch, the door unlocked, and an elderly man stood by the door. He looked grumpy, but his voice didn't match his facial expression.

"Can I help you, young man?" he asked River.

"Uh, yes." River cleared his throat, then pointed at himself. "I'm River Wilson. You don't know me, but I used to live in this house. I was...just wondering who moved in here after my father left town." He then pointed at me. "This is Bowie, by the way," he added.

Mister Sanders nodded, taking a look at me. "I think I've seen you before. You're Darryl's daughter, aren't you?"

I smiled and nodded. "Yes, hello, Mister Sanders."

He moved his gaze back to River and tilted his head. "Wilson, you said. How's your Dad doing?"

River shrugged, a little confused by that question. "I haven't heard from my father in two years. Why, was he unwell? Did you talk to him?"

"Phil, who is it?" a woman called out from what I assumed was the kitchen. Then, she appeared next to Phil and smiled at us. "Oh, visitors?" she asked full of hope.

"This is Wilson's kid. Wants to know if someone moved in here after his father left," Phil explained. "When the house was up for rent, we came to look at it before signing the papers, and your father was in very bad shape."

Mom and Dad didn't mention that. I felt River tense, and I brushed my thumbs over his arm, trying to calm him. "It's freezing outside. Would you like a cup of tea or hot chocolate?" asked. I let River decide. In the end, this was his old home, and I could imagine how many memories rushed through his mind right this second.

"That would be great, thank you," he replied.

The Sanders' house wasn't furnished the way I expected it to be. They had modern furniture, everything was either dark wood or white, and the smell was incredible. I was positive Marge had just taken a pie out of the oven.

She showed us to the living room, and we sat down on the couch. River was a bit hesitant walking into his old home at first, but with the courageous smile I gave him, he took the first step and walked in.

"You didn't know about your father's health," Philip pointed out, and River shook his head. "No. How bad was it?"

"He seemed a little week. His voice was very hoarse, and he seemed too skinny for a tall guy like him," Philip told us. "The house smelled of cigarettes when we came to take a look at it, and there were cigarette buds all over the kitchen counters. Don't think there was much food around in the cupboards and fridge."

A sigh escaped River, and I turned to look at him. "I see this all surprises you. May I ask why you haven't seen him in so long?" Philip asked.

River didn't answer, instead, he looked down at his hands. I pressed my lips into a thin line, then looked over at Philip with a soft smile. "River never had a strong bond with his Dad. We just visited his Mom. We both attend Blue Oak College in Durango, and he moved there two years ago." I didn't want to go into more detail, not unless River was okay with me doing so.

"I see," Philip replied, eyeing River. Marge came back carrying a tray with four cups on it. She put it down and gave each of us a steamy drink. "Thank you," I told her, and she brushed it off with a hand gesture. "It's good to have people over. Our kids and grandchildren arrive tomorrow, but it's always nice to have visitors," she said with a smile.

"I don't wanna bother you, but...is it okay if I take a look at my old bedroom? I'm not gonna touch anything...I just wanna...look," River said, surprising me with his words. He had been quiet for a while, but after his request, Marge quickly got up and nodded. "Of course. We turned it into a guest bedroom for when our kids are staying here," Marge explained.

River didn't ask me to go with him, so I stayed on the couch and watched him walk up the stairs with Marge. As they disappeared out of my sight, I turned back to look at Philip. "Thank you for this. It means a lot to him," I explained.

"I can tell. If I'm not mistaken...his mother was Alice," he said, and I slowly nodded. He knew about her.

"Great woman. Loving mother. One of my daughters was her classmate in high school, that's how I've known her," he explained. "Is he doing okay?"

"Yes, well...he's doing very well in college. Top of his classes and he's really good to everyone around him. We've been friends since I was eight." I smiled and tilted my head, remembering our childhood.

"Keep making him happy. I can tell his mood depends on you, and also his happiness." I didn't want to sound arrogant or anything like that, but I knew. But he played a just as important part of my life as I did in his.

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