Page 56 of The Last One You Loved
“McKenna!” Mila jumped down and ran over to me, wrapping my legs in a hug like she’d done the day before. I bent over and attempted to hug her back even as my fists flexed and my teeth bit down on my cheek. My throat closed, chest aching at the sweetness of her…of hugs that were so freely given. Hugs so similar to ones her father had once given me that it sent me spiraling into my past.
I’d fallenoff the monkey bars at school, and my elbow was bloody and swollen. The nurse thought I might have chipped or broken a bone—an injury that, for once, I’d actually been responsible for myself. The school called Mama, and she burst into the office, looking harried with her hair wild, her clothes askew, and chewing gum to hide the scent of the liquor.
“Where’s my baby?” she asked the secretary.
She pointed to me, waiting in a chair just inside the open door of the nurse’s office. Mama rushed over to me, glancing over her shoulder at the women in the office watching us, and then she threw her arms around me in a hug. Her arms were taut and awkward, and I stiffened, unaccustomed to any sort of affection. She pressed her lips to my hair and whispered so no one else could hear, “If I have to spend even one dollar taking you to some damn doctor, you’ll regret it.”
She followed the words with a squeeze to my injured elbow that brought tears to my eyes, and I bit down on my lip in order to stop from crying out.
“Let’s go, sugar,” Mama said, standing up and meeting the nurse’s and secretary’s eyes with a soft smile. “She is the clumsiest little thing. I wish I could stop her from her daredevil ways. It breaks my heart when she gets hurt.”
She even sobbed, as if I was the one causing her pain.
I stood there, wishing I didn’t have to go with her. Knowing I was going to get more care where I was at than when I left. Knowing she’d take pleasure in poking at the injury for as long as it took to heal.
Mama grabbed my uninjured hand, nails biting into my palm, and pulled me out of the office.
Outside, Maddox came running up, eyes going wide once he saw Mama’s hand gripping mine. He ignored her, surrounding me with a real hug. One that was warm and caring. One I felt in my soul. Mama didn’t allow me to savor it. Instead, she yanked us apart, glaring at him.
“Stay away from her,” she hissed before dragging me down the street.
“You’re awake!”Mila’s little voice centered me, bringing me back from the harsh memories.
“Wait? I am? Are you sure I’m not sleepwalking?” I teased, and she giggled.
She took my hand and skipped beside me toward the counter. “This is Miss Rianne. She takes care of me when Daddy is at work, and she makes the best cinnamon rolls. But donottell Nana I said that, because Nana thinks her cinnamon rolls arethe best. They actually have a contest sometimes, and we have to vote without knowing whose is whose. Nana always gets upset when Miss Rianne wins.”
“Breathe, Mila,” Rianne said as she came around the counter and stuck her hand out. “You might not remember me, but I’m Rianne Barry. I was your third-grade teacher.”
It all clicked—the headbands, her warm eyes.
“You were in her class?!” Mila all but yelled. “Daddy was in her class, too. You’re so lucky. Only, I guess maybe I’m luckier because I get Miss Rianne all to myself and don’t have to share her with other students.”
I couldn’t help smiling at Mila before I took Rianne’s offered hand and shook it.
“I remember you,” I said, and I did. I was almost certain she’d called CPS on Mama the year I’d been with her—maybe more than once. She’d seen through me to the things I was hiding, and looking into her dark eyes, I was pretty sure she might be able to do the same now if I was around her too long.
“There’s coffee in the pot, if that’s your morning poison, and cinnamon rolls in the oven, keeping warm,” she said, turning toward Mila. “Go get your backpack and coat on.”
“Dang it.” Mila’s little face turned downward. “I didn’t even get to show McKenna the picture I drew.”
“She can see it when you get home,” Rianne said, her tone firm but loving.
Mila sighed heavily but then skipped toward the coatrack by the door. She shrugged into a heavy coat and pulled out a backpack from underneath the stand that, not surprisingly, had rainbows and unicorns on it.
“Will you be here when I get home from school?” Mila came running back to ask me.
“I think so,” I told her.
“Yes!” She did her little victory move and then skipped back over to the door where Rianne had put on a thick coat and grabbed an umbrella.
I looked out the window and saw it was dark and cloudy, with more rain or snow on the way.
“Have a great day at school, Mila,” I said, heart clenching at her happy smile. She waved at me.
“I’ll be back to clean up after I drop this little chick-a-dee off,” Rianne said.
I didn’t know what to say, and they both left without another word. The house felt very silent once the door closed behind them. The kitchen was a bit of a disaster with mixing bowls and flour all over the counters.
