Page 61 of Born in the Spring

Elara

Itighten the tie failing to hold back my hair for the third time with a pinched yank and a growl. I can’t recall a time I’ve made such a sound, but I’ve been doing quite a few new things lately, and I couldn’t find my new ties, so I have to settle for an old, stretched-out one, and the tail keeps sliding down my head.

I was also today-years-old when I finally realized why this style is called the ponytail.

It took me thirty-five years to put that together, so that might be why my fingers are on the assault.

With a sigh, I thud my elbows back onto the island top in my next attempt to hurry through the break I’m supposed to have and eat my lunch, and my door swings open, because why wouldn’t Vanessa be stomping in after a night like last night?

With a grumpy Madison, who tracks snow on the floor as she stomps past her.

Vanessa gives a tug on the hood of the girl’s coat and she grumbles as she stomps back to the door. “Kick off thesnow here.”

Madison gives two pointed kicks as she stares up at Vanessa, and my lips sacrifice a smile around my bite of reheated spaghetti over her giving Vanessa attitude. That, and over her brown hair being in pigtails.

My smile dwindles some in the corners with pity and understanding. She’s too young to have learned yet that she doesn’t have to change herself to be seen, not by the right person. I’ve been in her shoes, but hers are still small; she has a lot to walk in and a lot to outgrow.

And I still have yet to realize why they’re called pigtails. Maybe I’ll be today-years-old at forty once I figure that one out.

“Why are wehere?”

“I need to talk to my girl crush. There’s a TV.” Vanessa directs Madison to the couch by her shoulders. “Watch it. And turn the volume loud.”

Madison plops onto a cushion and snatches the remote off the coffee table as Vanessa walks up the two steps to meet me.

“Are you okay?” she checks in, leaning to my level on the island, back to her regular phrasing.

But my body responds differently; there’s no withdrawing clench.

“With what?” I ask, a hint of a challenge in my tone for her to leave the generalizations and pinpoint a place to begin.

“You went off on me,” she starts as my television booms with sound, and I wince a look toward Madison as Vanessa yells to her, “Turn that shit down!”

“Stuff,” I amend on instinct, but with less passion.

“Yousaidturn it loud,” the little girl argues, putting another lift in my lips, but she turns down the volume, just enoughso Vanessa and I can hear each other, but maybe Madison can’t.

“It was about time you let some of that out.” Vanessa reaches into the fruit bowl, pausing her shoveling once she sees she doesn’t have to. Only my apples and pears are piled inside. I don’t really remember when I stopped buying the mangoes and kiwis.

I drag in a deep inhale to smooth out the hitch in my heartbeat.

Vanessa gives my free hand one squeeze with hers before she goes on. “You also didn’t come home. I stopped by early and you weren’t back.” She says this while digging into a pear and slurping in the juice before it runs down her chin.

I respond by slurping in a noodle, my amusement a small spasm in my abdomen. “That doesn’t mean—”

Now her free hand slaps at mine. “Who were you with? I know who it was because I’m powerful like that, and great at convincing people to think of themselves now and then, and we’re not moving on until you admit I’ve done just that. Who were you with?”

I twirl my fork through my spaghetti, prolonging the answer and her waiting as my own sort of satisfaction, and to make sure the television really is loud enough to shield Madison’s ears, before I say around a bite, “Jasper.”

Then I sigh, answering clearer, as talking this way now feels ridiculous. “I was with Jasper.”

Vanessa sighs too, and more amusement combines with my next bite of spaghetti in my stomach at her relief. Her eyes are soft at seeing the sudden glossed look in mine, above my own soft smile, but it’s her smirk that has her wanting details. “And what did you do?”

“Nothing,” I say absently as I twirl my fork again, then addlow, “We just kissed.”

“Allnight. Youjustkissed.”

I blink up at her around my bite, a laugh making its way from my mouth now at the skeptical gape in hers. “It wasn’tallnight. We got tired eventually and fell asleep.”

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