Page 22 of The One I Want
“Miss Betsy, I think these are yours.”
I look up to see Hank, his arms filled with four of the twenty balloons that got away from me.
“Thank you,” I say. “Can you hold them for a second until I’m ready for them?”
“Yup!” He sits down on the grass across from me. “What are you making?”
“A balloon arch for a party.”
“Do you have to tie all of these to it?”
“Yup.”
“Are the balloons supposed to fly away?”
As if on cue, another one gets through my fingers.
“Shit!” I yell.
Hank’s eyes go wide. “You said a bad word.”
Crap. I forgot I’m around a kid. “I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay. Dad swears a lot. He just has to put money in the swear jar.”
For some reason, this makes me smile. I can see Wes dropping an f-bomb and Hank instructing him to add money to a jar. Or Emerson. She probably has a spreadsheet with the deposits. “Does your dad have to put money in a lot?”
Hank nods as I take one of the balloons from him. “Yeah. Especially since Mom left. He really can’t get the hang of braiding Magnolia’s hair. He’s good for a few bucks every morning.”
My heart simultaneously fills and breaks thinking of that. On one hand, kudos to Wes for trying. But on the other hand, fuck the woman who would leave him to do that.
And I’d say that out loud and put a twenty in the jar for emphasis. That would be money well spent.
“Are you guys here for the weekend again?”
Hank shakes his head. “Nope. Dad’s game was on Thursday this week. But he and Uncle Shane and Uncle Oliver are moving our stuff into our new house.”
New house? Did I know this? I feel like I should have heard this through the town grapevine. I might still be new to Rolling Hills, but I have found all of the hot places to get the latest tea. So either my skills are way off, or somehow, this has stayed out of the Rolling Hills gossip mill.
“Where are you guys moving?”
Hank nods down the road. “That way. It’s a really nice house. And Dad says we can decorate our rooms however we want.”
“That’s cool,” I say. “How are you going to decorate yours?”
“Hogwarts,” he says matter of factly. “All Gryffindor.”
“I should have guessed. You know, I’m a Potterhead too.”
This stuns him. How do I know? His eyes are wide, his jaw is dropped, and he just let go of the remaining balloons he was holding.
“You? You like Harry Potter?”
“Of course. I even took the sorting test.”
“What house are you? Are you with me in Gryffindor?”
“Nope,” I smile, shaking my head. “I’m a Slytherin.”
