A Town of Good Intent

A year and four months later, August 2019.

Her fingertips pinched around the skin of her neckline like something was always meant to be there. At times she pinched so hard, it left behind a little red mark. But Jessa always did this while she drove, at least as far as Gunner could remember.

“You’d think after all the bullshit nothing would make you nervous anymore, Mom.” Gunner adjusted his weathered seatbelt from digging into his own neck.

Her brow furrowed. “What’s that, baby?”

He nodded at her fingers clutching her skin. She sighed, dropping her hand back to the steering wheel. “I didn’t even realize I was doing it.”

“You always do.” Gunner shifted his thin frame against the seat. The backrest was so worn now, there was barely any comfort left. “Whenever you’re nervous.”