Page 32 of Wild Side
Milo knewRhys was coming back today. When I told him, he got excited, so I made sure not to rain on his parade. I suppose that’s why as soon as he wakes up from his nap, he blasts to the top of the stairs and calls down, “Is Ree here?” in the sweetest voice, brimming with genuine excitement.
“Yeah, buddy. Rhys is here.”
Tiny footsteps rush down the stairs, and I try not to wince. But I do hold my breath as I listen. He’s pretty coordinated for his age, and he is very clear about not wanting to be carried or helped too much because he’snot a baby anymore—his words, not mine. I try to respect that, but I still envision him toddling and falling down the stairs like the clumsy, tiny human he is.
Milo’s small footsteps summon Rhys’s bigger ones, eagerly taking the basement stairs two at a time to get to the little boy.
The sound of them rushing to greet each other on the main floor makes my heart twist uncharacteristically.
Rhys isn’t as bad as you make him out to be.
The thought pops up, and it’s not welcome. But I also know that, deep down, I havequestions. I’ve spent the last two weeks wrestling with the reality that there might be more to this storythan I first thought. That Erika may have been lying to me. That Rhys might have had a good reason for kicking her out.
After all, if I’ve learned anything recently, it’s that I’m the only person who thinks pinky promises are binding. Erika and I grew up making them to each other. They became something of a secret handshake between us. We shared first-kiss stories. Confessions about sneaking out. One time, I made her pinky promise not to be mad at me, then divulged that I’d borrowed her mascara, which was why we both had pink eye. I think she’d silently seethed at me for days, though she was never outwardly angry with me.
She’d kept her promises then. But that was before. Most recently, I promised to never give up on her. And she promised not to lie to me again. Then she did anyway.
Still, disliking Rhys is a safe place for me. Holding him responsible for what happened to Erika means I don’t have to feel like I failed her entirely. I can shovel some of the responsibility off onto him and save my sanity.
It’s not fair, but it’s the only way I’m holding it together.
The mind works in mysterious ways and all that.
Like now, as it goes all gooey watching them together. Milo launches himself into Rhys’s massive arms with a happy squeal. A dagger lodges in my throat as I watch Rhys nuzzle against his mussed curls and breathe him in.Again.
I turn my watery eyes out toward the backyard and give them a moment. I feel like an intruder. I feel torn. I feelguilty.
How can I hate someone who loves my nephew in a way that makes my chest ache and my teeth hurt? Especially in a world where more people to love him could never be a bad thing.
I actually want this.
The four words I’ve lost sleep over for the past two weeks. And the proof is right in front of me. Rhys clings to him, and he clings to Rhys.
It makes me question if I’m the bad guy in this equation. But then I think of his nightmares and the way he burrows against me when he’s scared. I think of the attention he gets from my parents. And at the very least, I know that this is the best place for him.
When they finally draw away from each other, Milo places one chubby hand on each of Rhys’s scruffy cheeks and looks at him.Reallylooks at him. Then he smiles and says, “I missed you.”
The grin Rhys gives him back is downright blinding, and I realize I’ve never seen him smile. Never heard him laugh, either.
“Missed you too, little man.”
“That’s our plant. Erika.” Milo points over at the pot with glee, and Rhys stiffens.
“Is that so?”
“It was Mama’s.”
“It was.” Rhys’s voice is thick, his eyes never leaving the little boy’s profile. “And it is such a nice plant.”
Milo grins and nods. “I love it.”
Rhys’s Adam’s apple bobs. “I love it too.”
I cough to cover the sad little moan that threatens to escape my throat, and they both turn to look at me.
They’re not related. But they sure look like they could be.
“Go swimming now?” I promised Milo a trip to the lake to swim this afternoon, and he never fails to remind me of the promises I’ve made. He switches gears so easily.
