Page 70 of Born in the Spring

And it’s good I did, because the view back in the main area is the opposite of enjoyable. The usual vibe increased to its spiritual volume while I was gone, but simmers down again as I trudge through, more stares on me as mine searches for Mom.

The kid and his friend are not here. Any remains of hisphone have left with them.

Other people are showing off that they still have theirs by typing on their screens, while giving me side glances.

While they’re clearly spreading word to whoever over the commotion I caused, I find Mom in the gift shop, talking with Robin, who slumps in relief when she sees me, meeting me halfway in the space.

“I heard, but I didn’t see,” she says as we come to a stop. “I was making sure you’re okay.”

“I am,” I assure her, with a nodded small smile of thanks that she returns before stepping away as my mom steps up.

“I’ve taken care of things out here—”

“Mom,” I cut in, softening my tone as I prepare to argue against her cleaning the messImade, but she continues on with a firm press of her finger into my chest as if I didn’t.

“Are you taking care of things in here?”

“I am,” I repeat, giving upmostof the argument with another small smile. “I’m working on it. And that won’t happen again,” I promise her, but meaning it both ways. No one is saying shit like that about my brother, about my family, around my mom again. And if they do, I’ll still deal with them. Just away from everyone else.

She releases me from her sharp finger. “This has been a rough year. For all of us.” Tears build in her eyes but they don’t reach her smile. “But things are still gonna get better.” Her finger is sharper back on my chest, pushing a chuckle past the knot her unwavering faith put there. “So I mean it when I say, I won’t let you put this one on your back.”

“I won’t put it on my back, but we’re a team.” I yield as I wrap her in a hug, making sure she knows regardless. “I’m always gonna be here.”

Mom squeezes me, her voice scratchy as she tells me, “You are my best blessing, I want you to know that.”

Those words are a flood and a tighter knot and a deeper hatred for my father as I squeeze her back, tears falling and settling in the corners of my mouth as I tell her I love her, as I promise her for not the first time that I’m not going anywhere.

Twenty-Nine

Elara

Tripp’s promise to me and Skylar that we’ll see each other in a couple days turned into not seeing them again for a week. Tripp didn’t offer a reason and I didn’t ask for one. I think—where he’s concerned—he agrees we should keep the door I closed, closed.

With his son, on the other hand. . .

He’s a five-year-old acting like a grumpy old man. I’d find it endearing if his shift in attitude wasn’t because of me.

Skylar hasn’t cheered nor thrown his hands up in glee once since we’ve been sledding. I’ve been hollering enough for us both, drawing stares, to jostle the joy out of him, and all he does is give me Bored Eyes or Mad Eyes. He even rolls his eyes a couple times, like I’m embarrassing him.

But he still saves me seats when he climbs back on the sled, so there’s hope.

“Okay, that’s enough,” he announces when we make it to the bottom again, sounding like he’s really had it, and I get offfirst with an amused twitch in my lips, helping him to his feet.

He mumbles athanksand we dust ourselves off.

Skylar squints up at me. “Daddy says you’re never gonna have dinner with us.”

I crouch to his level at the sadness in his voice. “I’m always free to have dinner with you.” I say it and I mean it, emphasizing I’m always here forhimwith a light boop to his nose that finally earns me a smile, then a nod.

And that’s all it takes to make things right for this kid.

“Good,” he says through another smile, bouncing a little in his boots. “You can bring him too if you want.”

“Bring who?” I ask as I fix the zipper on his coat.

“Shepherd’s brother,” he chirps, and I glance around us with a hitch in my heartbeat and a pause in my hands, before I finish zipping him up in one quick tug, then drop them.

“Did your dad tell you I’ve been…having dinner with Jasper?” I ask now, some hedging in the question as I speak kid language, guessing that’s the language Tripp used too, and wondering why he would put that assumption in his son’s head, knowing Skylar would say something to me.

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