Theo
T he car was eerily silent—the type of silence where I could hear my blood rushing in my ears. All I could focus on was every bump in the road, the way my mom’s eyes kept shifting to the rearview mirror to look in the backseat, and the way Trinity was just staring at Scout.
Mom knew about Scout. She was the first person I called three months ago when my life turned upside down. But I made her promise she wouldn’t tell anyone. The last thing I needed was for the world to know I had a kid, only to have her ripped away in some bullshit legal technicality.
But keeping it a secret meant doing it alone, and it was fucking hard. Scout was more closed off than ever. She barely came out of her room, and when she did, we didn’t say a word to each other. Every moment in that penthouse was torture. It was so big but felt so goddamn small.
Then Mom suggested we move back to Cedar Ridge.
It was something I never thought I’d do. Ever. But it made sense. She was here, and I knew she was chomping at the bit to meet her first grandchild. And, selfishly, I was looking forward to some downtime. Some peace. A few moments where I could just be me again.
At first, it felt impossible to connect with Scout, and I was tired of trying . I wouldn’t stop, though. No matter how many times she slammed a door in my face or ignored my blatant questions, I’d still try .
It didn’t mean it was easy. And it didn’t mean it wasn’t exhausting.
But maybe Cedar Ridge could be a fresh start for both of us.
“So, what do you like to do?” Trinity’s voice sliced through the silence.
It took all I had not to turn around and look at them.
The longer Scout went without answering, the more tension built in the car.
“Yeah, I get it. Talking to strangers is awkward. But I’m not really a stranger, you know?
I’m your—oh my god, I’m your aunt. That makes me sound so old. ”
Mom’s lips twitched into a smile.
Leave it to Trinity to make light of everything.
“Anyway, what are you into?” she casually asked again.
I shifted in my seat, waiting to hear Scout’s voice for the first time in…when was the last time she’d spoken? God, I felt like a shitty person—a shitty parent . But what could I do? I couldn’t force her mouth to move, force words to come out.
“Video games,” Scout muttered, and my heart squeezed.
“Yeah?” Trinity was like an excited puppy, ready to pounce at any second. I needed to call her off, calm her down, before she freaked Scout out to the point of no return. “What do you like to play? I’ve been obsessed with Dropzone lately.”
I opened my mouth to tell Trinity to cool it, but Scout’s small, shy voice beat me to it. “That’s my favorite game.”
I clenched my jaw so tightly I thought my teeth were about to crack. Mom made a choking sound, and my gaze shifted to her, finding tears lining her eyes. She quickly blinked them away, covering her emotions with a not-so-subtle cough.
Trinity filled the silence for the next twenty minutes, keeping conversation light and mostly about the game I had no idea Scout liked.
Finally, Mom pulled up in front of our new house. The old Reynolds house was famous in Cedar Ridge, so I didn’t need to see it to know what to expect. I’d always dreamed of living in that house when I was kid, and when I saw it was for sale, I bought it immediately, sight unseen.
Now I wished I would’ve at least had my mom check it out.
The grass was overgrown, the outside was in desperate need of a fresh paint job, and the stones leading to the front door were chipped and cracked. It wasn’t quite rundown—it just needed a facelift—but I wasn’t positive it wasn’t haunted.
It sat right on the edge of a beach, a set of weather-worn stone steps leading straight to the ocean. I thought it would be nice to sit in the screened-in porch and watch the waves, but now…
It didn’t feel like home. Not yet—maybe never.
I took a deep breath, smoothing my hand over my hair.
It was a far cry from my penthouse.
Maybe I shouldn’t have put it up for sale yet.
“Oh look,” Trinity said. “There’s a tire swing.”
I looked at the giant tree in the front yard and nearly laughed at the tire on the ground with a pile of rope on top of it. Another deep breath filled my lungs.
Brave face.
Twisting in my seat, I plastered on a smile, though I knew it wouldn’t meet my eyes. Scout was staring out the window, lost in thought.
I’d pay anything to be able to read her mind.
“So, what do you think?” I asked. Her eyes briefly flicked to me before returning to the house.
She lifted a shoulder in a casual, half-hearted shrug.
“The movers should’ve already put all our stuff away.
If you don’t like your bedroom, you can move to another.
We have five others to pick from.” I laughed, but it was tight.
Strained in a way I’d never heard before.
She nodded as she slipped an earbud in before getting out of the car. I stared at the empty seat, my heart dropping. I felt Mom and Trin staring at me, felt them judging that interaction.
“It’s just a big change,” I said quietly. “She’ll come around.”
Mom’s eyes were full of a tenderness I didn’t deserve, and filled with tears—for me, or Scout, or just this shitty situation, I wasn’t sure. She pulled her graying blonde hair from the clip and let it fall around her shoulders.
We got out of the car, finding Scout standing at the base of the stairs leading to the house, as if she were scared to go any further. Rocks and leaves crunched underfoot as I slowly approached, a ball of anxiety twisting my stomach until it felt like I was about puke.
I stopped beside her and stared up at the massive house.
Everyone called it a mansion, and in a way, it was. But it also wasn’t. An old money family owned it for generations as their vacation home, but they decided to sell it a few years ago. Since it was the most expensive home in Cedar Ridge, no one bought it.
Until now.
And judging by the amount of work it needed, I understood why.
“Thanks for doing this,” I said softly enough for only Scout to hear. I wasn’t sure if she even could hear with her headphones in.
But then her lips tightened, and her face twisted. “It’s not like I had a choice.”
She didn’t wait for a reply; she stomped up the steps toward the front door and leaned against the wall, her arms folded across her chest.
“Want me to talk to her?” Mom asked, startling me.
“I’ve tried talking to her,” I murmured. “She doesn’t listen.”
“She’s hurting.” Mom’s voice was choked, thick with emotion. “I can’t imagine what she’s going through.”
Annoyance surged in my chest. We were both going through a lot. Both of our lives were flipped upside down. We both wished we’d been dealt a different hand.
But here we were.
And there was nothing I—or anyone—could say or do to make things better.
I flexed my hand into a fist. “I still need to get groceries,” I said, shifting the subject. “Who delivers yours?”
The corner of Mom’s mouth tucked up. “Deliver? No one.”
“You don’t just order on an app and get it delivered to your house?”
A soft laugh tumbled from her lips. “My sweet boy.” She cupped my cheek. “This is Cedar Ridge, honey. We have to actually go to the market ourselves. You know that.”
I blinked as she floated past me, moving up the walkway toward the house like she owned it.
I hadn’t realized how different everything was going to be here. At least in New York, things were still somewhat familiar in the chaos of everything new .
But here? I was totally lost.Even if I’d grown up here, that was twenty years ago. I thought it changed with the rest of the world, but apparently, it hadn’t.
My shoes clicked against the stone, each step unsure.
Maybe I could sell the house. We could move back to New York. Try to start our lives over there instead of here.
God, what was I thinking? That this would fix everything? That a new zip code would magically make us a family?
This might’ve been a huge mistake. But moving Scout back to the city after making a big deal about how Cedar Ridge was the thing we both needed felt cruel.
Scout leaned against the house, her arms wrapped tightly around herself like a shield, her gaze on the fallen tire swing. Mom and Trinity parted as I stepped forward, the golden key in my hand felt like the weight of a brick.
Like the weight of permanence, the weight of all the things I’d never wanted before.
This wasn’t just a house. It was the place where I was supposed to become someone else—someone worthy of being called Dad. And I didn’t know if I could.
I slipped the key into the lock, my heart battering against my ribcage.
This is it.
The hinges on the door squeaked as I pushed it open, and before I could even step inside, Trin pushed past me.
“Wow,” she said, looking around the foyer. A double staircase sat in the back. The dining room and kitchen were on one side, and the formal living room was on the other. In the middle, beneath the staircase, was a library, a bathroom, and a door leading onto the back deck.
Scout didn’t seem to care about looking around. All she did was give it a quick cursory glance, then headed up the steps two at a time. A moment later, I heard a door shut, and my shoulders fell.
“It’s beautiful,” Mom said, and I nodded my agreement, flipping on the light switch and bathing the room in golden light.
We made our way through the rest of the house, finding the gym, the screened-in sunroom, a casual living room, the extra bedrooms and bathrooms, the attic loft, wine cellar, mud room, laundry room, theater room, and… more . I was sure there was more that I would find as time went on.
The wood floors and brick fireplaces were original, but it had been somewhat updated. Fifteen years ago. I knew I’d need to gut the kitchen and remodel there first, then we’d move on to the rest of the house. But it all felt so overwhelming to think about right then.