Page 129 of Loss Aversion

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As they drove into the heart of Wayward, Birdie half expected the old and familiar feelings to rise up and extinguish everything good that had happened over the last few months.

Instead, everything felt different, warmer, better. As if the context of the town had been reimagined and rewritten. Rather than the pressure, constraint, and deprivation she expected to feel as they passed by the familiar street signs and brick buildings, she felt a sense of openness, space, a place to exhale.

Maybe that was what she needed. Context and closure. As a result, her heart felt different. Her chest expanded.

What she experienced was nothing less than a refreshing blast from a wave of the nearby ocean, cleansing her from years of throat-clenching disappointment and leaving her with those glimpses of Maisie and her playing dolls, walking home with Lucas while clutching her hard-earned PAYDAY, and stepping into the warm blanket of Bernadette’s kitchen.

She chalked it up to the matriarchs of a small town who once reviled her, coming to her rescue. More than willing to pay the price, as Pinkie had said often enough, finding her well worth the risk.

Birdie also attributed her newly minted perspective to Mia finding her dad and Lucas welcoming her, adoring her even. Her body seemed to glow from the inside out, at knowing her daughter not only had Marshall who loved and adored her but now Lucas, who treated her as nothing short of a treasure.

It was as if the newfound generosity of her circumstances infused her with her own as she took in Wayward and the familiar people walking through the downtown.

“Mom, is it okay if I go see Oliver?” Mia asked from the back seat.

Lucas answered for her, “We haven’t even made it to the house yet. We’re going to unpack and settle in as a family.”

“Besides,” Birdie added as Lucas turned onto their street, eager to see the house. Their house. “You’re grounded.”

Mia fell back against the seat with her arms crossed. “The rest of the summer is going to suck.”

Regardless of her daughter’s angsty tone, Birdie caught her slight smile in the rearview mirror.

* * *

Lucas felta swell of joy hit his chest and do funny things to his throat as Mia blew out her candles and the town cheered.

Half of Wayward was invited to Lucas’s house for the festivities, welcoming everyone home and reveling at the national attention the small town received, having been the home of what the papers and news outlets described as veritable heroes, uncovering white-collar crime and helping solve a multi-year investigation.

Bernadette wheeled Angus to the backyard, the randy Scot managing to swipe her bottom with every pass until she finally gave him a threatening look, followed by a poke to the side, which he returned with a naughty grin.

The Pinkie Posse came bearing gifts and a multitude of Tupperware containers.

Gotta love a good old-fashioned potluck slash birthday party.

Lucas manned the grill, the smell of cooking hamburgers and hotdogs wafting through the air while Birdie replenished the drink table. Sweet tea the drink of choice for the diehard Waywardians.

Lucas felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

Oliver-fucking-Sanderson.

Sure, he was a good kid who refused to cave to Mia’s eyelash-batting requests to defy his parents. And yes, the young man had taken his daughter to church on Sundays, even attending the teen sessions.

But he was sixteen. His hormones raging. And Mia was growing into a lovely young lady.

Which made him the enemy.

Period. End of story.

In Oliver’s defense, the boy marched straight up to Lucas and reached out his hand. “Mr. Mayor, sir. Thank you for the invitation.”

He ignored the outstretched hand. He had a war to wage. Enemy lines to establish. A mission to protect is daughter’s virtue. “I didn’t invite you. Mia did.”

Oliver appeared undaunted. Lucas was disappointed. He had hoped to see fear and to hear stammering and stuttering.

“Well, then, thank you for tolerating my presence, sir.”

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