Page 94 of Just My Ex

Henry texts his brothers to let them know where we are and that we’re safe, and I text my mom and Stella.

I stand and grab a broom hanging from a hook near Gary’s work bench. Might as well clean up around here while we’re stranded. The lightning is still regular, and the rain hasn’t seemed to let up, but the fear and anxiety that have plagued me for so long have lessened.

Henry soon joins me and takes another, stiffer broom to the puddle of water, guiding it to a narrow gulley in the floorboards. After I’ve done all I can do, this is an old, musty barn after all, I move to climb up the wooden ladder to the loft, my sights trained on Maverick, who’s behind the gate of his stall, staring at me.

“Wait. That ladder was suspect back when I was a kid.” Henry drops the broom and joins me at the ladder. “Let me make sure it’s okay to climb up.”

I step away. “It seems sturdy to me.”

“I just have to be sure.” He shakes it and tests out the rungs. I do not hate the muscly guns show involving his arms. His shirt’s a little damp still, too, which certainly helps.

When he’s sure the ladder’s secure, he relinquishes it to me.

“Thanks,” I say as I climb up. I don’t care who you are, sometimes it’s nice to be fussed over and watched out for by the man you love.

When I reach the top, I see some disheveled bales of hay in the far corner and wet floorboards near the small cutout skylight. “It’s nice up here,” I shout down to him, “if you’re far from the window and ignore the giant hole in the floor.”

“Oh yeah. That hole’s been there since I was a kid.”

“So what did you used to do up here?” I ease myself to the floor and dangle my legs over the side of the loft floor.

“My brothers and I played war. That was our bunker. And sometimes we’d play cards up there.”

He returns the broom to its hook and climbs the ladder. He sits beside me, dangling his feet, too. The heat of his leg next to mine feels comforting.

We’re quiet for a long while, and I stare at the beams of light shining dimly through the slats of the walls.

“Do you think Navie’s okay?” Without warning, my eyes fill with tears again.

He drapes an arm over my shoulder. “I think Navie is eating a pudding Snack Pack with Stella, who’s probably teaching her to read right now.”

Quinn laughs. “I hope you’re right. She already pretends to read. She knows all her letters, but not the sounds yet.”

“You’re such an amazing mom, Quinn. I’m sorry you’ve had to go it alone most of the time.”

“I’m sorry, too. But we’ve survived so far. Do you remember how when she first learned the alphabet song, she had like five c’s in there somehow? It always made me laugh.”

“I remember,” he says with a smile. “Cutest version I ever heard.”

“At least she was confident in it. She didn’t care if it was right or wrong,” I say. “The world’s gonna tell her soon enough that she’s lacking in some way or another. I love her sense of self. I hope she never loses it.”

“See? You’re so good.” Henry tightens his hold on me.

“I’m trying.” I kick my legs absently. This isn’t ideal, chasing some graffiti-happy assailant and getting caught in a severe thunderstorm. But I’m with Henry, so it’s all good.

He pats my knee. “I have snacks here in my backpack, in case you were worried we’d starve up here.”

“Always the prepared Boy Scout.” I try to reach past him. “Give me all the snacks.”

He keeps his hand on the backpack, hesitating. “This is just what I try to keep on hand with me, so I apologize there are no Butterfingers or Cheetos.”

“That was so last year. I’ve upgraded to artichokes and kombucha.”

“I thought Cheetos and Butterfingers were your favorites.”

“Okay, so I wouldn’t refuse a Butterfinger or a chance to get down and dirty with some Cheeto powder, but yeah. I’ve been trying to eat healthier these days.”

“Good for you,” he says.

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