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CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Ken

Better than doomscrolling

M onths into our new life, Josie’s itching to see her folks again. “I know we were just there last week, but they love you, Ken,” she says, tossing clothes into a duffel—sundress for her, flannel for me.

So far no one from the agency has shown any interest in us, but I’m still half-expecting a bullet with my name on it. Will that feeling ever subside? I don’t know. “You know I never mind more of your mother’s cooking,” I say while packing my Glock under my socks—just in case.

The drive is unsurprisingly filled with Josie singing off-key to some folk tune and me not hating it. “He’s family,” she insists when I groan. Her hand rests on my thigh; I cover it, thumb brushing her knuckles—soft, grounding. My mind drifts to Dad—his quiet strength, Mom’s laugh—gone too soon. Josie’s folks might fill that ache, if I don’t fuck it up.

We pull up to her parents’ house. Ellen—a woman who says she can’t wait for me to call her Mom—rushes out, apron dusted with flour, and hugs Josie tight. Bill, finally back on his own two feet, follows, grizzled, eyes sharp like he’s sizing me up as he always does. “Ken,” he nods, handshake firm. I nod back, “Sir,” voice low—respect I haven’t felt since Dad. Bill is a good man who loves his family. He took me aside once and told me he won’t give a shit about me until I marry his daughter, then I’ll be family. I respect that.

Taylor bounds down, all ponytail and sass, dragging her boyfriend, the lanky kid who still eyes me nervously even though I have made an effort to be nice to him.

Dinner’s chaos—Ellen’s roast, Josie’s chatter, Taylor teasing her boyfriend. Bill’s quiet, watching me slice potatoes like I’m defusing a bomb. Post-meal, he nods me outside—porch swing creaking, stars popping out. “Josie says you’re good to her,” he starts, voice rough but warm. “She has a good heart, just like her mother.”

I swallow, seeing Dad in him—same steady hands, same devotion. “Lost my folks young,” I admit, rare truth slipping out. “Your family’s... real. I’d do anything for her.”

He claps my shoulder. “Just want you to know when the time comes for you to propose, you don’t have to ask for my blessing. You have it.” He dropped his hand. “Until then, you still sleep on the couch.”

“Yes, sir.”

I’m floored—humble, raw. I don’t believe in an afterlife, but if there is one, I think my father just nodded in approval of Josie, her family... and, maybe, even me.

I spot Mike fumbling with Taylor’s car. One tire looks low. I show him how to check the pressure. I like him, but trust? That’ll take time. I ask, “Gun range tomorrow?”

Josie slips beneath my arm. “Behave. You know Mike doesn’t like guns.”

“Good,” I say to Mike with a grin and a look he reads correctly. “Keep it that way.”

Mike nods vigorously then sprints away.

I look down into Josie’s eyes and come to a realization. “Josie. Let’s do this forever.”

She tips her head back. “What?”

“Us.”

There is so much love in her eyes when she winks and says, “Okay, it’s better than doomscrolling, I guess.”