Page 95 of Gifts

“I can only find one,” she whines from the mudroom. “It was here yesterday. Or maybe the other Sunday. I dunno.”

“Find another pair,” I call from the kitchen and look at Knox. “Hurry and eat your cereal. We’re going to be late.”

“We’re not late,” he chomps over his words with his mouth full. “We’re early. Where’s Asa? He always takes us.”

“I’m taking you.” I have to stop and catch my breath. They don’t deserve the edge of my tongue because I was up all night. Nor do they need to know Asa is still sleeping off a pain pill because he was almost sliced in two by the man who tried to kill Emma and me in a drive-by shooting. I close my eyes, take a breath, and try to start over. “I’m taking you and I’d like to leave a little early. I have some things I need to catch up on.”

“Can I wear my princess shoes?” Saylor calls.

“Where’re Levi and Emma?” Knox asks.

“No,” I yell. “You cannot wear your princess shoes to school.” I turn back to Knox and lie. “They’re not feeling well. I think a bug is going around.”

“I can’t find the other one!”

“They’re both sick at the same time?”

“Wear your rain boots,” I yell before adding, “Yes. They’re both sick.”

Saylor’s voice takes that tone—the one where I know a meltdown is imminent. “But it’s miss-match socks day. If I wear my rain boots, no one will see my socks. And it’s not even raining. Katie McMeanie will make fun of me for wearing rain boots when it’s sunny. She’s such a meanie.”

I slap two peanut butter sandwiches together and toss them into bags. “It’s Katie McBride. And why do you give a sh—I mean—why do you care what she thinks? You tell Katie to mind her own shoe business. Rain boots are always in.”

“Nooo,” she drawls and I can tell we’re close to detonation. With no sleep and my head spinning, I have no patience for her theatrics—this morning of all mornings. I throw the last of their lunches together and my heels click across the wood floors. When I make it into the mudroom, Saylor is sitting with her mismatched socks pulled up high over her leggings in the middle of the floor surrounded by every pair of shoes we own.

I close my eyes and bite my tongue. This is one of those moments that if I don’t, I’ll come un-fucking-glued. To be honest, I’ve been on the edge since last night.

“Sorry, Mommy,” Saylor whispers. She looks as guilty as Emma’s puppy, Ryder, when he’s caught shredding the toilet paper.

I exhale. “Go brush your teeth and tell your brother to do the same. I’ll find your shoe.”

She skedaddles out of the room, knowing she won a stay of execution from having to clean up this mess or deal with my ragey-mom outburst. I bend and start tossing shoes into a pile so we can at least walk to the garage, finding the missing Croc she was looking for in about five seconds.

When I move to the kitchen to grab my coffee, I stumble to a stop. Asa is standing in the kitchen wearing a t-shirt and athletic shorts. His hair is rumpled as he runs his hand through it and he looks deliciously sleepy, reminding me of how I enjoy this look in the mornings when he wakes me with his hands and mouth.

“You should’ve gotten me up,” he says. “Let me get my keys and I’ll take you all to school.”

“I’m fine.” I make myself look away and go about collecting my things for work. I don’t look back when I keep talking. “From the sounds of it, last night was productive. I can get us to and fro from now on.”

“I don’t mind,” he says from across the kitchen.

I do my best to keep on. “And I’ll get with my insurance again today. They keep giving me the run around about my van. I’ll do what I can to put some pressure on them and then start looking for a new car.”

His tone is controlled, even if a bit confused. “You have a new car, Keelie.”

I start to argue that fact, that the new car is a loaner and as much as I’ve appreciated it, I need to buy a new—or used—car for myself. But I don’t get the chance because Saylor and Knox come barging into the room. Saylor, not respecting personal space as usual, throws herself at Asa and he bends to pick her up.

“No-no—” I start to warn but he has her up before I know it, holding her on his side opposite his new stitches.

“Are you coming?” she asks Asa.

“No,” I butt in. “I’m taking you and it’s time to go. I found your shoes—go get them on. Grab your bags and get in the car. I’ll be out in a second.”

Asa puts a hand on top of Knox’s head. “Have a good day, bud.” Then he continues to stomp all over my heart by leaning in to kiss Saylor on the forehead. “I got you a new book—Black Beauty. We’ll start it tonight after you read to me.”

“What’s it about?” she asks.

“Another horse, but this one’s told by the horse.” He smiles at her as she tries to process it.

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