Page 13 of Wild Side
“Cut off? Estranged? Yes.” I wince without meaning to. It has always killed me that I couldn’t help them make peace. And it makes me wonder what other dirty laundry he knows about our family. “Too much water under the bridge, I guess. So I became the bridge to ensure Milo would have grandparents in his life, even if his mother no longer spoke to them. It was a tenuous setup, but it worked. And even when they all agreed on almost nothing, they always agreed on doing what was best for Milo.”
Rhys stays quiet, jaw working, eyes laser focused on my mouth as though he’s skeptical about the stories that spill from it.
“My meeting is a video chat with a therapist, because I need to tell Milo about his mom, and I don’t know how. That’s the situation. Seems like you’re determined to insert yourself, so”—I reach forward and slap his steely bicep like the old friends that we clearly are not—“welcome to the shit show, big fella.”
Before he can respond, Milo comes barreling out the front door wearing his too-big backpack, his slip-on shoes on the wrong feet, and a wide smile on his sweet face.
“This is the best day ever!” he announces joyously as he trundles in our direction.
And boy, I wish I felt the same.
CHAPTER 6
RHYS
I watchTabitha walk up to her parents’ home, hand in hand with the little boy I’ve come to love like he’s—I don’t know. Not my own, but something awfully close to it.
He reminds me so much of his mom. It’s his mannerisms. The way he walks. The way his smile hitches up just a little more on the right side than on the left. Everything he does reminds me of her.
Seeing him here, alone, makes her death feel more real. It makes my chest ache. It makes me miss the woman who became something of a sister to me.
Erika had a perpetual weariness about her, like the drudgery of each day weighed on her. And I couldn’t keep myself from offering help while I was off with my recurring injury. It never felt like an inconvenience to lend a hand.
Plus, Milo and I became fast friends, and before long, I looked forward to the stretches she’d be away so that he and I could do all our favorite things together. Read. Build forts. Play-wrestle.
Now he’s walking into the home of two people I’ve been told nothing but negative things about. He eagerly hugs them; theylovingly hug him back. And it feels a bit like I’m living in the twilight zone.
Because those stories Erika told me made me so sure that Milo needed me. Those stories tapped into a place deep inside me that I’m not sure I ever recognized—or I just didn’t want to.
All I know is that I spent my childhood in the system, passed from foster home to foster home, and I won’t be letting the same thing happen to Milo.
Over my dead body.
Tabitha glances over her shoulder at me, and I realize her parents have picked up on the guy sitting in her passenger seat. Three sets of eyes land on me, and I try not to squirm under their attention. It’s too acute, too pressing. I prefer my solitude. I prefer flying under the radar.
But Tabitha’s pursed lips are all radar. Her eyes home in on me with accusation, so I look away, out the window, preparing myself for any pretense of friendliness to fly out her truck window the minute she steps back inside without Milo as a happy, oblivious buffer.
I stare down the curving street. The entire development is just a repeating pattern of the same homes, each in a slightly different color. It’s not what I expected. Wide lots. Sidings in all different shades of brown and beige. Not an apple-green door in sight, but still, a safe suburban sort of neighborhood.
The driver’s side door opens, and Tabitha fires her truck up without a word.
“Do they know who I am?”
“No. I told them you’re a friend, and they squealed like we’re getting hitched or something.”
“Why did you lie?”
“Because their hearts are already broken. I’ve decided to pace out the bad news I have to deliver to them like a tasting menu.Right now, they’re having a palate cleanser, thinking I might finally settle down.”
Her words hit hard, each one a blow I didn’t expect to sting quite so badly. Tabitha’s concern for everyone else is admirable… and not at all what I expected based on the stories I’ve been told.
I don’t like the way the realization sits, so I change the subject, not wanting to dwell.
“Do they have a car seat?” I ask, realizing Milo’s is still in the back.
She’s shoulder checking when she snipes back, “No, they just strap him to the roof of their Subaru like he’s a canoe.”
I sigh. “That’s not funny.”
