Page 37 of For Fox Sake

I jog to the side of the house, entering the backyard through the gate. The water key—a long metal instrument—rests against the side of the house. I grab it, sticking it down into the pipe to turn the valve off, and then sprint back to the front door, where Ari is lugging a toolbox half her size into the house.

I grab it from her and then follow into the kitchen where Ryan is on her hands and knees, sopping up water. Dish soap and bottles of cleaning liquid are scattered around her.

She looks up at me. “The water’s off?”

“I turned it off.”

Her expression is blank, her pallor tinged with gray.

“Momma, are you okay?” Ari frowns, a crease between her brows.

I crouch down by Ryan. “Hey. What do you need?”

Ryan leans back, the sopping wet towel in her hand flopping onto her knees. “I don’t know. We were going to have pizza. I thought we had one in the freezer, but then I couldn’t find it and then this happened.” She gestures at the water covering the floor.

I clap my hands together. “Do you ladies want to roast some hot dogs out on the firepit?”

Ari’s eyes widen. “We can do that?”

“If it’s okay with your mom.” I raise my eyebrows at Ryan.

She nods slowly.

I crouch down in front of Ari. “Why don’t you run over to my house and grab the package of hot dogs from the fridge? There are buns on the counter too.”

“Yes!” She lifts both arms in the air.

Ryan points at her. “Make sure you look both ways before crossing the street.”

Ari scampers out the front door and I turn back to Ryan. She’s staring under the sink like it might bite.

I crouch down next to her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Hey. We can fix this.”

Her eyes meet mine, and then her face crumples and she sags into me.

I wrap an arm around her, holding her against me even though the angle is a bit awkward, me crouched down on the balls of my feet with Ryan leaning into me from her knees.

Her shoulders tremble, but she doesn’t make a sound. My heart breaks.

This is a woman who is shouldering the world by herself and refuses to crumble under pressure. She is so used to standing on her own. She needs someone to lean on. No one should be doing all she does alone.

“Why don’t you go take a breather?”

Her hand grips my knee and she half laughs, half cries against my shoulder. “A breather? Are you kidding me? I don’t even know what that means.”

I shift back and straighten, taking her hand to help her stand.

“Go relax for a minute. Do whatever you need to do. The water is off. Nothing is urgent. The sink can wait until you both have food in your bellies. I’ll feed Ari, and you can join us when you’re ready.”

She bites her lip, hesitant. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking. I’m doing it. I got this. You can let go for a minute. With any luck, maybe ten or twenty.”

She searches my eyes, a clear battle waging across her face.

“It’s so hard to be strong all the time. Sometimes you have to give a little, lean on someone. Getting help doesn’t make you weak. It keeps you strong to fight another day.”

She swallows.

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