Page 11 of Just My Luck

Unsure what to do, I turned and fled down the sidewalk in hulking steps toward the safety of the brewery. When I was out of sight, I finally slowed and pulled the notepad from my pocket. I scribbled down exactly the way Sloane smelled so I wouldn’t forget.

Honey. Biscuits. Home.

FIVE

SLOANE

The driveback to my granddad’s property was a blur of panic, sadness, and confusion. What had started as a quick grocery trip after school had turned into a literal mess of Ben crumpled on the floor. My grip tightened on the steering wheel as I fought back the helpless feeling that threatened to overtake me.

One minute we’d been negotiating the nutritional merits of Pop-Tarts, and the next Ben was frozen with panic. He’d melted to the floor, and I’d lost him to whatever all-consuming emotions had overtaken him. Poor Tillie was collateral damage as I did anything I could to get Ben off the linoleum floor.

My eyes flicked to the rearview mirror. Ben’s gaze was unfocused as he looked out the window. Tillie was doing her best to lighten the mood by jabbering away and filling the silent car with anecdotes about her day. She wasn’t looking for a response, but simply grasping for a sense of normalcy amid the crisis we’d all just experienced.

Bless that sweet girl.

“We’re almost home, bud. You doing okay?” I was proud how strong and sure my voice sounded despite the worry gnawing at my stomach.

Ben nodded but didn’t respond.

“Who was that man?” Tillie bravely asked.

That man.

A flash of Abel’s strong arms lifting my son and effortlessly carrying him through the grocery store was no match for how sweetly he’d gripped Tillie’s hand. She’d accepted it as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

My chest caved in.

I’d needed help, though it sucked to admit it. In the most public, mortifying way, Abel had appeared out of nowhere and, quite literally, saved the day. How could that be possible if he really was someone who’d harmed a child? The two warring versions of Abel King tussled in my head as I drove the quiet country road toward my granddad’s property.

“That man is my boss, sweetie.” I attempted to keep the conversation light.

“Is he your friend?” she pressed.

“Um...” I hardly knew anything about him, but the way he’d shown up for me spoke volumes to his capacity for friendship. “Kind of.” When that didn’t sit right with me, I lifted my shoulders and accepted the truth. “Yes, he’s my friend.”

“He’sbig.” In the mirror I could see Tillie’s eyes go wide as she emphasized the word.

My brows lifted. “Baby, we’ve talked about how it’s impolite to comment on someone’s size. That’s an inside thought.”

Her little brown eyebrows tipped down. “I didn’t meanfat. He’s, like, a giant.”

I suppressed a laugh. She wasn’t wrong. “Yes, Mr. King is very tall.”

And built. And handsome in that broody kind of way...

“Andstrong,” Tillie added. She bumped her brother’s arm. “Did you see how he picked you up like you weighed nothing?” Ben shrugged off his sister and continued to stare absently out the window.

The conversation drifted back to Tillie reminiscing about her day at school. I knew it was her way to reassure us, and I loved her even more for it. When we turned into the long gravel driveway, I averted my gaze. The blackened wood of the farmhouse was a painful reminder of the house fire we’d survived. If it were up to me, I’d find another way in, but driving past it was the only way to reach the cabin.

Our only saving grace was that the farmhouse was on Tillie’s side of the car and not Ben’s. I was sure that his most recent meltdown stemmed from the trauma of the fire. We unloaded ourselves,without groceries, and I suggested the twins play for a bit before starting on any homework. I needed a minute to catch my breath anyway.

Tillie ran ahead, tossing open the cabin door seemingly without a care in the world. Ben was slow moving, and I stepped up beside him, gently placing my arm around his shoulder. He leaned into my affection, and a tiny spark of hope grew brighter.

“I love you, Benny,” I whispered.

“Love you more,” he answered.

“Love youmost,” I countered as we made our way toward the front door.

---