Page 107 of Something Like Sunflowers

“Filed, meaning it needs to be turned into the courthouse and signed by a judge. Depending on the appointments and schedules…it could take you weeks to get in with the local justice. Our courts are still overbooked from closings last fall.” She sighs. “I don’t even understand how her mother managed to get pre-trial waived in a matter of days.”

“Shit,” I whisper. “So, Ellie’s mom could get custody of her because we can’t get this legitimized soon enough? Is that all?”

“Um.” Katie clears her throat. “Well, it’s kind of an all or nothing situation, Devyn.” I roll my eyes. She can’t see me, and that’s probably for the better because Hunter raises his brow at me, and I just shrug. Can’t ask me to stop being bitchy and judgy. Give me something.

“I get that, Katie Kat,” I say into the phone, “but I can take care of it by…noon. Can you buy me until then? When did the thing get moved up to?”

“It’s tomorrow at eleven a.m. in Courtroom B of the Juvenile and Domestic Building. I’ll have a little side room booked for prep. Bring the signed document to me there as soon as you can tomorrow. I’ll be there all morning. It’s our best hope.”

She finally stops talking, and I remember she isn’t an Alexa recording. She sounds so robotic, it’s hard to tell.

“Got it,” I say confidently, because I do.

I know exactly who I need to talk to about this, and it seems like there are many other issues from the last decade concerning this very person. And that same person is going to help me fix them.

After a few minutes of toothbrushing and scrambling for cuter clothes, I throw on my cowgirl boots, smiling when I think about what those boots were a part of last night.

I am in love with Hunter Isaac. And soon I’ll be married to him. But first, I need some help from my big brother.

Chapter 39

Devyn

Make no mistake, if there was something shady done behind my back where both parents were involved all those years ago, my big brother, Knows-What’s-Best-For-You-Dustin, knows every bit about it.

And if I’m correct, he’s just the person to get Dad to change his mind and help us.

I adjust my hair into a long braid down one side of my body. This way, I feel every bit the brave knight, set out on her hot-pink steed to save the princess from the fire breathing dragon, or in this case, the custody hearing. Which feels uniquely similar.

There’s a metaphor there I’ll explore when I have the time, but now I’m feeling the sweet taste of victory as the gravel crunches beneath my tires in Dustin’s driveway. This time, there’s no heels to click and clack across his perfect suburban walkway. I really can’t help but stare in awe over my brother’s entryway herb boxes, though. Gosh, it’s so cute.

I shake my head. There’s no time for marvels of wonder, Devyn. It’s showtime. I march up his stoop and whip the screen door open only to find—

“Shana?”

“Devyn! What are you doing here?” she spurts, red-faced and stumbling down the stoop, backing toward her car that I didn’t notice parked on the curb until just now.

“What are you doing here?” I counter, but before I can get an answer, she’s shoving her body into her car and shouting something about stupid pancake recipes and new pointe shoes.

“What?” I practically shout over the loud screech of her old clunker. But she’s off, leaving dust in her wake.

Odd.

But then I turn back around and see another surprise guest. Suddenly, anything involving Shana and the pancakes is put on the back burner.

“Mom?”

My mouth gapes. My hand stills on the door handle. I don’t know if I’m supposed to cry, or run, or smile…so I just freeze.

“Sit,” she says. She’s smiling, and something about that feels off. I try to remember a time I saw it look the way it does right now.

Genuine.

And she wants me to sit. Beside a woman I haven’t seen in a ghost of time.

Stinging droplets dance around the domes of my eyes while we do nothing but stare at one another. Her smile is wide and her eyes crinkle in an unfamiliar way.

Lovingly.

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