Chapter 11
Becca
“Welcome back to Somebody Said in Sweetbriar. Sometimes the quiet after a long day is the loudest part.”
The drive home should have felt easy. I should’ve been replaying what happened at the Stop there were people talking.
I couldn’t see clearly. And then there was a red light in the trees.
It could have been a camera or part of a flashlight. I have no idea, but it wasn’t nothing.”
Aggie nodded once, slowly. Not surprised. That was the part that caught me; she didn’t look surprised.
“You’ve had people circling this place for months,” I said. “Eileen’s offer. The slow cars. You’ve been watching too.”
“I’ve been watching for longer than that,” she said quietly. “Since before I said anything to anyone.” She reached across and patted my hand. “I didn’t want to alarm people. And I didn’t know what I was watching for yet. I’m still not entirely sure.”
The lamp on the narrow shelf glowed faintly. Gerald shifted on the bench seat, resettled, and tucked his paw back under his chest.
“I don’t know who they are,” I said. “The people I saw. I’ve been trying to figure it out and I just—” I stopped. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t have to know yet,” Aggie said. “You just have to not face it alone.” She squeezed my hand once and released it, sitting back. “So. You’ll tell Matt for yourself. And you’ll let me know if anything else feels wrong.”
“I wish I didn’t have to tell Matt,” I admitted. “He’s done enough for me already,” I murmured.
“Oh, honey—”
“I mean, you know how my parents are. He took care of me way too much, and sometimes I feel like I need too much. Plus, I worry about you, too. Here in this Airstream by yourself.”
She looked at me for a moment, and something in her expression was both fond and a little exasperated—the look she reserved for people she loved who were being earnest in the wrong direction.
“Becca. I have lived alone on this river for eleven years. I have asked men twice your size to leave this property, and they have left.” A beat.
“I also have Gerald, who is not a weapon, but he’s deeply unsettling to strangers. You know that.”
Gerald did not look up, but he heaved out a sigh and leaned against my leg, purring loudly as if pleased at the thought that he intimidated strangers.
“You’re not going to stop worrying about me,” Aggie said, “and I’m not going to ask you to.
But I worry about you, too.” She picked up her mug.
“So we watch out for each other. And we’ll stop keeping things to ourselves.
That’s all. And, Becca, your brother loves you.
I think he’d be hurt if you didn’t confide in him. ”
I looked at her, the white hair pinned up, the steady hands, the sharp eyes that hadn’t missed a thing in as long as I’d known her.
“Okay,” I said. “I know he loves me, and you’re probably right. I—”
“Your parents did a number on the both of you. You have each other, don’t forget it.
And you also have me. Family is family, and we stick together through hell or high water.
No matter what. We’ll all need each other’s help at some point,” she said, satisfied.
“Now, finish your tea. You’re staying here tonight, and I’m calling your brother to come check out your place. ”
I glanced toward the door, toward the dark shape of my trailer beyond it. “Thank you. I don’t want to be alone tonight,” I said.
Aggie nodded, already reaching for her knitting. “That’s my girl. No more keeping it all inside. It does no one any good.”
The kettle clicked off behind us, the Airstream humming softly as the night pressed on outside. Aggie finished her tea and set the mug aside, studying me the way only someone who loved you without conditions could. “Alright,” she said gently. “You settle in. I’ll call Matt.”
I glanced toward the door again, toward the dark outline of my trailer beyond the trees. The initial spike of fear had ebbed, replaced by something calmer and more practical. I didn’t feel panicked anymore.
“I’ll sleep better knowing you’re here with me,” Aggie said, already pulling out a spare blanket. “And tomorrow, we’ll reassess. In daylight. But for now, you just rest, honey.”
“Okay. Thank you, Aunt Aggie.”
She padded down her hallway to her room, then came back with a flannel nightgown for me to wear, and smiled as she grabbed her phone and headed back down the short hallway.
As I changed and settled in, I picked up my phone, thumb hovering over Levi’s name. I didn’t want to worry him. Didn’t want to turn a strange feeling into something bigger than it was. But I’d promised to text him when I got home. So, I typed anyway.
Me: Made it home. All good. Thanks again for checking on me today.
The reply came a minute later.
Levi: Anytime. Sleep well. I’m here when you need me.
I set the phone down, the glow fading as the lamp clicked off.
Curled up in Aggie’s guest nook, the sounds of the campground settling around us, I told myself I’d done the right thing. That I was safe. That nothing was wrong.
Still, sleep didn’t come easily.
Tomorrow I’d call Matt myself and talk it out.
Tomorrow, I’d figure out what to do about the quiet that felt too quiet and all the reasons why I was so jumpy.
Tonight, I let myself rest in the knowledge that I wasn’t facing it completely alone.
Not with Aggie down the hall. Not with Levi’s text still open on my phone.
And not with his quiet promise to be there for me, still echoing somewhere soft inside me.