Page 105 of The Devil Wears Tartan

Moira is the right person. She’s someone worthy of the trust it took to bring her here, and I’m going to make sure she always knows it.

“Yeah,” she answers. “I, um, have a little something planned for you too.”

I squint. “What do you mean? I’m the one who—”

“I have some apologies and promises to make too,” she interrupts.

My mom and Chris are chatting on the other side of the table. They’re doing their best to pretend they’re busy watching something down on the street below us, but I can tell they’re both listening in.

I’m bursting with so much joy I don’t even mind. They helped make this day happen. They showed up for me.

“These promises are not being delivered in the form of brownies,” Moira continues, “but we, uh, kind of need to go. Like ASAP. Is that okay?”

“You need to go?” My mom turns back to face us in a very poor attempt at pretending she just happened to catch Moira’s last sentence.

“I’ve, um, got a surprise for Kenzie,” Moira answers, “and it’s a bit time sensitive, unfortunately. You two are welcome to come along.”

“That’s sweet,” my mom answers, “but you two probably want some time alone. We need to get back to the apartment anyway. My sister will be there in a couple hours, and Chris said he’d help me finish packing.”

The subject of my mom leaving to start her stay with her sister today came up as we were eating our brownies. The urge to change the subject and hide it all away from Moira was so strong I broke out in a sweat, but I stuck it out and let myself feel proud instead of panicked as I listened to my mom talk about taking care of herself.

He didn’t mention it, but Chris is doing better too. He’s moving into a new apartment next month, one without a bunch of housemates ready to pull him back into everything he’s working to pull himself out of. I wish he was in some sort of support program too, but that’s his choice to make, and as much as I love him, I’m not going to let myself feel responsible for his life.

We had a long and difficult conversation about what I will and won’t take from him from now on. There were a few moments when I thought he might storm out and never come back, but we reached an agreement, and his presence here today shows he’s serious about keeping it.

“I’ll see you before you leave, right?” I ask my mom.

She nods. “We’re heading out after supper.”

I get up to give her a hug, and since Chris seems intent on finishing off the brownies, Moira and I leave the two of them sitting there and head out of the cafe.

“You know you really didn’t have to prepare anything,” I say once we’re standing on the sidewalk. “I overreacted, and—”

Moira holds up a hand to stop me. “I want to do this. Even if I was trying to help, I didn’t do it right. I made you feel looked down on, and today I want to show you how looked up to you really are.”

She holds her hand out just like I did to her on the roof, and after a moment of staring at each other, I take it. As soon as she’s got a grip on my palm, she starts leading us up the sidewalk.

“Where exactly are we going?” I ask as we weave around groups of tourists taking pictures of the Château Laurier.

“You’ll see,” she sing-songs.

We walk up a couple blocks and then cross the street to get to a public staircase wedged between two modern, grey stone buildings.

I know this staircase. It leads up to the street Major’s Hill Park is on—the park I like to study in, the same park where Moira and I worked on our interview back in the fall. That was the night I first mentioned my mom to her, and never in a million years did I see us ending up where we are today.

We’re both panting a little when we reach the top of the stairs, but Moira doesn’t slow down. She’s practically dragging me up the road now.

“Are we going to the park?” I ask between huffs.

“Maaaaybe,” she drawls.

We speed-walk for half a block and then break out into a jog once we reach the iron fence running along the edge of the park. I can see people enjoying the warm weather through the gaps between the rails. There are picnics, Frisbee games, and reading sessions going on all across the sprawling lawns covered in bright green stems of fresh spring grass.

This is still one of my favourite places to study, and a stinging pang of regret hits when I realize I won’t have any studying to do here for a long time. There’s just no way for me to afford school anymore, not without the scholarship.

Even if Moira offers it to me again, I don’t know if I could take it now that I know where it came from.

“Almost there!” Moira crows, making a few people turn their heads as we speed through the park’s entrance.

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