Page 82 of When We Were More
“You mean Tillie’s farmhouse, right?”
“Where Tillie lives.Ourfarmhouse.”
I’m as confused as Henry, but I stay quiet.
“Ladybug, the cabin is our home. The farmhouse is Tillie’s. Since we’re her friends, sometimes she comes to our house, and other times, we go to hers.”
A sigh escapes Layla, and she rolls her eyes. Henry’s widen when she does it, and he glances over at me. Hey, I didn’t teach her to do that. It’s not my fault if she’s super observant and mimics me.
“Dad, let me splain, ‘kay?” Henry nods. “Tillie is in our family now. And since it’s bigger here and has room for animals, when it’s time to live together, we’ll all live here.”
My eyes pop wide, and my jaw drops. Henry doesn’t even glance at me. He runs his hand through his hair. I feel like I should leave the conversation, but I’m not sure. I don’t want to make it more uncomfortable.
“Why do you think that, ladybug?”
Layla shrugs. “When you know, you know.”
I’ve just taken a drink of my coffee, and start to choke on it, but I quickly recover.
Henry glances over at me. I don’t know what to make of his pinched expression.
“Sorry.”
He turns back to Layla.
“Layla, honey, that’s not how it works. Tillie and I are only friends. Friends don’t live together.”
An irritated sigh escapes Layla, and I have to hold back a laugh. It strikes me that this is the happiest I’ve felt since things ended.
“Dad, listen, please. Right now, you and Tillie are friends that don’t live together. But you loves her, and,” Henry sputters on his coffee now, but much worse than I did, and Layla pauses to pat him on the back a few times, “she loves you. So, one day, we’ll all live here. I just picked out my bedroom and one for Lena. You guys wanna see?”
My jaw drops open again.
“Layla, that’s enough.” Henry’s tone is scolding, and Layla’s lower lip sticks out right before she starts to cry.
“Fuuuudge,” Henry whispers as he pulls her into his arms. “I didn’t mean to snap at you, ladybug. I’m sorry. I promise we’ll come and visit Tillie here sometimes, but we live in the cabin. Okay?”
Henry peers up at me, pleading in his eyes.
“Layla, sweetie?” She turns and looks at me, and I hold my arms open. She doesn’t hesitate to come to me. I pull her up onto my lap and tuck a tear-soaked piece of hair behind her ear.
“You and I are friends, too. Remember? We’ll see each other, and you can come visit here. Then, when I get my goats and chickens?—”
“Goats?” She perks up immediately, and the tears stop.
“Chickens?” Henry asks.
“Yep, to both. When I get them, you can come over and help me feed them sometimes. What do you say?”
“Yes! Oh, I can brush their hair, too.”
“Maybe. We’ll have to read about it and see if goats like having their hair brushed. I know chickens don’t like their feathers brushed, so we definitely won’t do theirs.”
She wears the brightest smile now, and it’s as if the crying episode never happened.
“All right, Layla. Now that you’ve settled that, can you please get your boots and coat on? We’ve got to get going so I can do some things for the party tonight.”
Now buzzing with energy, Layla hugs me goodbye and takes off for the foyer. Henry and I both stand. An uneasy tension fills the air. He runs a hand through his hair, studying the floor.
