Page 17 of A Surefire Love
“Mercy and I like to bake. Treats can be our contribution.”
“Done.” He jotted down a note. “I’d also like to arrange more extra activities. Can you two carve out a few hours one Saturday a month?”
“As long as I’m not on duty.” Nolan’s schedule as a police officer was all over the place. Ensuring he was free every Wednesday evening involved a complex series of trades with his coworkers. Anson couldn’t ask him to guarantee another day of the month too.
He looked to Blaze.
“I used to have more gigs, but with the new job, I haven’t had time to coordinate that, so, sure. I’m flexible on Saturdays.”
“How about the Saturday after Labor Day, eight to two? I know it’s short notice. I told Branching Out students about it this morning. With enough leaders, we could open the activity up to Rooted students too.”
Both consulted their phones before nodding their agreement.
“Great.” Their help would put him one event closer to the attendance goal. “We’ll meet here and take a van to Pine Gully Creek for canoeing.”
Blaze lifted her hand like a timid student. “How does that work? Do people have to be able to swim to come?”
“Shouldn’t be a problem. Pine Gully Creek is shallow and slow, for the most part. We should have enough leaders who can swim to pair with anyone who can’t, and the rentals come with life jackets.”
She bit her lips together and nodded. Still concerned?Maybe Mercy couldn’t swim, but short of repeating himself, he didn’t know how to reassure Blaze. He moved on to planning Wednesday’s meeting. Rooted always kicked off with a party, and they needed a strong opening night if they hoped to interest students in anything that came after.
Blaze pausedoutside Mercy’s bedroom. She’d told her three times to clean up, but each time she checked on her, she found her sister playing with Cinnamon Bun instead of picking up after him.
Now, the rabbit lounged on the floor next to Mercy as she spoke into her phone. “Why not? It’s—” She exhaled loudly, waited, then said, “Fine. You don’t have to be mean about it.”
After a clipped goodbye, she tossed the phone on the floor and scooped up BunBun. According to the dozens of articles Blaze read before agreeing to the pet, bunnies didn’t like to be held. BunBun made an exception for Mercy.
Blaze leaned against the doorway. “Who was that?”
“Amelia. I invited her to Rooted, and she said yes, but now she doesn’t want to come, and she won’t even tell me why.”
“Did you fight about something?”
“No.” Mercy stroked her lop-eared rabbit’s light brown fur. His hair was so fluffy—and prone to shedding—that a puff of it floated into the air. Their robot vacuum was a lifesaver, but it couldn’t handle the hay pieces that ended up scattered near the hutch in Mercy’s room.
Cleaning was a must, but Blaze knew all about friend trouble and how much it could hurt. “I’m sorry you two arefighting. Maybe you can talk to her more at school tomorrow and find out what happened.”
Mercy shrugged. “She says she doesn’t want to do anything with someone like me.”
“Someone like you?”
“That’s what she said.” Her chin bunched, and she kept her gaze on her rabbit.
“I don’t know what went wrong, but I do know what kind of person you are. You’re funny and energetic and caring. She’s lucky to have you as a friend, and you’re lucky to have her too. You’re going to work this out.”
Mercy’s mouth skewed.
Blaze couldn’t blame her for being skeptical. Disagreements with grade school friends hadn’t always worked out for Blaze either. She prayed Mercy would have a different result. “I bet you’ll be friends again long before Wednesday, but right now, I do need you to clean this room.”
Mercy’s gaze darted to the corner where she’d abandoned her crutches on Friday. “Maybe my ankle hurts.”
Blaze lowered her chin. After the leaders’ meeting, she’d found Mercy running around in the gym without a hint of pain. “You can ice and elevate after you finish. Cleaning up will only take a few minutes if you put your mind to it.”
“Mom never made me do chores.”
“Mom also never got you a bunny. You don’t want to live in that mess, do you?” She toed a piece of hay stuck to the carpet.
“I don’t mind. I don’t even notice.”
