Page 56 of Again, In Autumn

Blood flicks out through the tear in the fabric as I shuffle along, leg burning.

Francesca doesn’t turn her head when she asks, “Vee, what are you making for dinner?”

My heart on a platter.

“My kneecap,” I growl.

She says to Maggie, “She’s so good in the kitchen.”

We reach the overlook on which we parked, and David cheers, “Down the hill we go! We’re halfway there.”

I watch, longingly, at the people piling into their cars. Especially the ones who brought picnic baskets. My walk turns into a hobble, and I end up considerably far from the children and elder members of my party, all of whom show zero sign of slowing down.

Then, Maggie stops. Adam holds her arm and mentions something in her ear.

“You know what,” she says. “I’m getting kind of tired. Diego, do you think we can head back?”

He cocks his head. “Sure, honey, if you’re not up to it.”

I reach the paused group, and Maggie looks me up and down. “Vienna, come back home with us.”

Francesca smirks. “You’re her knight in shining armor.”

I glance at the eyes surveying my injury. “No, I’m fine,” I repeat. Boring, tired and injured, but fine.

I expect one more insistence from Maggie that I would try to refute, but it’s not her voice I hear. Or push I feel.

Adam comes up beside me and mutters, “Don’t be a hero.” He places a hand on my back, and I flinch. His eyes on the ground, he insists, “Go with them. Get cleaned up.”

I don’t have time to argue. He’s guiding me toward the cars, and Maggie and Diego follow behind. I try not to allow his closeness to affect me, but my skin remembers this touch. My breath hitches. My feet stumble.

Remember what he just said about you. He doesn’t like you or care about you anymore.

Adam’s light pressure shifts to a firm grip on my hip. He holds me upright then, after a thought, places my left arm around his neck.

“What are you doing?” I breathe.

He hoists me into his arms. I fall back against the buttons of his jacket, my right hand pressing into the flannel shirt underneath.

That summer, he scooped me up like this a hundred times and tossed me in the lake or held me to him while he talked in lantern light in the treehouse. On nights when the back door got stuck, when I’d be forced to climb out of my bedroom window, he’d catch me in a cradle on my way down.

He looked me in the eyes then, which he won’t now. His expression is blank.

When we get to the car, I’m set on the ground. He opens the door, but his warm hand remains on my back.

“I’ll need a ride back, I know they don’t have room in their car. I’ll text you when we’re about done,” Adam says to Diego.

My door closes, and Maggie waves goodbye. She snuggles down into her seat and awes, “I don’t think I could have made the whole hike. Those kids have boundless energy.”

Diego lightly laughs. “Yeah, and it looks like Adam’s enjoying the long hike, too.” He puts the car in reverse.

“Kate’s so beautiful,” Maggie comments.

I notice it’s directed at me. I nod. “She’s always been.”

“She’s definitely got him in her sights,” Diego says.

“That makes her sound conniving,” Maggie scolds, shoving his arm. “He didn’t mean it like that. She just…knows what she wants.”

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