It was a clue. Or another element to eliminate. Either way, she needed to read what the man had written.
“Is there any chance I could see the letter?” she asked.
Sean paused, his expression clouding. He had complied long enough without knowing her purpose. Tit for tat, it was her turn to share.
A kettle whistled from the kitchen. Luanne would be joining them soon. If her views were anything like Meredith’s, the whole conversation could end just as poorly. There was no time to waste.
“The thing is,” Audra said, “I’m not sure you misheard my son.”
At this, Sean looked dubious. But then he leaned forward, hands clasped, elbows on his legs. She had forgotten about his hearing.
She controlled her pace, despite a desire to speed through. “Everything started a month ago. See, Jack’s always had a fascination with planes, so I thought he’d love riding on one for a trip to Philadelphia. But then we took off....”
Sean listened intently as she stuck to the relevant highlights. He gave no impression of the need to find a straightjacket. In fact, his topaz eyes conveyed genuine interest that paved the way for her summary to flow.
Audra had just finished when Luanne entered the room with a tray of steaming mugs, cheese slices, and animal crackers.
“I wasn’t sure if you wanted marshmallows, dear, but I took the liberty of adding them. I hope you don’t mind.”
“It’s perfect,” Audra replied. “Thank you.”
Luanne distributed the drinks and parked the tray. She eased herself onto the far end of the couch, where she took several sips. Audra blew on the surface of her cocoa, aware of Sean’s distracted state.
“I’m sorry,” Luanne said. “Did I interrupt something?”
“No,” Sean said abruptly, as if coming to. “We were just talking about Audra’s son. It’s ‘Jack,’ isn’t it?”
Audra looked at him, afraid he was about to request she repeat the whole story. “That’s right. It’s Jack.”
“He sounds like a great kid,” Sean said.
“Yeah. He’s ... amazing.”
Sean gave a small, rigid shake of his head—Don’t say anything more—and drank his hot chocolate. Grateful, Audra did the same.
“So you’re married, then?” Luanne said with a tinge of disappointment.
“Actually, I’m not anymore.”
“Oh, I see.”
This was Audra’s standard for the topic: let the answer hang there, let people assume what they’d like. Divorce was the natural assumption, given current statistics, and one that didn’t create an awkward exchange, a dutiful condolence over someone they had never met.
But for some odd reason, the words spilled out of her. “My husband died two years ago.”
“Ahh, yes.” Luanne lowered her mug, held with both hands. “I’m sorry to hear that.” There was no discomfort in her tone, no pity in her face. Just an empathy that, in an instant, explained why she lived alone. No wonder Sean had taken up residence on the farm, even temporarily, providing help as well as company.
All the same, Audra had said enough. She downed more of her drink and observed the clock. “Gosh, it’s getting late. I should probably get going.”
“Already?” Luanne asked.
“I’m afraid so. Jack will be home from school soon.” Audra set her mug aside as Luanne nodded in understanding.
“Whereabouts do you live, dear?”
“Just down in West Linn. We’re staying at the Forest Side Apartments, but only until—” Once again she was sharing too much with the woman. “Until we find something permanent,” she finished while standing up. “I’m sorry I can’t stay longer.”
“Here, I’ll walk you out,” Sean said.
Luanne waggled a finger at Audra. “Be sure to grab some eggs in the barn. We only have three chickens, but those fine ladies have fully honed their craft.”
Audra laughed. “I appreciate that, but I’d hate to risk missing the bus.”
“How about a rain check?”
“I’ll look forward to it.”
Sean escorted Audra into the serene landscape. The donkeys were still chomping away, a goat now too, and birds trilled from the branches of an apple tree. It was refreshing to see animals so happy and healthy and out of cages.
“I can definitely understand why you’re staying here,” she said. “It’s nice. Really nice.”
“My mom doesn’t agree though. Right?”
Audra shrugged, not wanting to cause problems. “I think she’s just concerned about you.”
“Yeah.” He gazed off as they walked. “I know.”