Page 31 of The Fix-Up

Why did I have to be the adult? It wasn’t like Gil had come back with his tail between his legs and apologized for storming out. Oh, no. He’d gone and started a fire, roasted some hot dogs, and last I looked, he was settled in that camping chair, reading a book with the aid of a lantern and book light. Not that I waschecking on him. Because obviously I was not. He just happened to be in my line of sight. Or whatever.

Ugh. I guess I’d have to be the adult.

After Oliver was tucked in around seven-thirty, I pulled on a hoodie and slunk outside to the backyard. Gil was still reading. I crept closer; he didn’t look up. I cleared my throat; he held up a finger in the universal sign for ‘one moment.’

With a sigh, I crossed my arms and waited. The temperature had dipped to the low fifties. I shivered and stared out in the backyard and the twenty acres beyond. Aside from the campfire, Gil’s lantern, and the glow from the house windows, it was inky black, but I knew what was out there. It was rare to find a piece of property this big so close to town nowadays, but it had been in Ollie’s family for over a century. Out there was an old, decrepit barn, a couple of rusted cars, an old trailer, and acres and acres of all the overgrown grass, weeds, and bushes a snake in Texas could ever want.

But if I looked beyond the junk where the grass waved in the breeze and old-growth oak and magnolia trees stood tall and wildflowers popped up unexpectedly, there was a beauty to it. Having grown up in the suburbs, I loved the idea of Oliver having space to run and explore and play and be excited about a new rock or hiding place he found.

Ollie had given that to him. My heart twisted with both grief and gratitude. Even from Heaven, Ollie was looking out for Oliver. And me, too.

Finally, Gil stuck a bookmark—a real bookmark, he didn’t even dog-ear the pages like I did because I was forever losing the bookmark—in the book and snapped it shut.

“Did you need something?” he asked, his voice polite and detached.

“I have a list.” I pulled said list from my pocket.

He raised a dark eyebrow. “Of what?”

“Rules,” I said firmly and handed it over.

Gil opened it, snapping the paper taut. “Number one: the house doors are locked at nine each night.”

“I think that’s fair. We’re an early-to-bed, early-to-rise family.”

“What if I need to use the bathroom in the middle of the night?”

I waved a hand around. “There’s twenty acres out there. Pick a tree.”

“Classy.” He read again from the paper. “Number two: the house will be unlocked by five in the morning.”

“Probably a little earlier. I usually leave around a quarter to. The café opens at six.”

Gil nodded. “Number three. Please shower during the day when the house is empty.”

“There’s only one bathroom,” I said. “So that would make things easier.” And we wouldn’t have any awkward “oh, I didn’t know you were here and I’m standing in just a towel” moments.

“Number four: I am not your mama.” He looked up. “That’s not a rule.”

“It means I am not doing your laundry, cleaning up after you, or making your meals. I already have a kid.”

He handed the paper back. “Anything else?”

I took it and stuffed it back in my pocket. “Not at the moment but I reserve the right to add more rules at a later date.”

His head tilted to the side. “What about me? Do I get to add rules?”

“I’ll think about it.” I took a step back. “I’ll let you get back to whatever you were doing.”

With an awkward wave, I turned on my heels and headed back to the house. A brisk wind rustled my hair and brought goosebumps to my legs. It had cooled down a lot since the sun had gone down. I shivered at the thought of sleeping outside,even in a tent. Having been raised in the South, if it wasn’t exactly seventy-three degrees, I was too hot or too cold.

I slowed my steps and peeked over my shoulder. Gil had his face buried in his book again. Would he be warm enough?

No, that was not my problem.

But also, I was trying to be an adult about the whole situation. Being an adult was so…annoying. With a sigh, I turned around. “Are you warm enough? Do you need any blankets?”

Gil looked my way. “Now you’re worried about me?”

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