Page 31 of Free-Spirit

Excitement threatens my tone yet isn’t allowed in. “I’m not saying I don’t wannabea parent, June.”

“And I’m not saying you won’t be.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“That maybeItake the backseat for a bit. I spend the time sightseeing and teaching and indulging and being the mom, Ineedto be while you get out there and chat with locals and artists and capture stories to tell Lo about while painting or crafting with him.”

Continued surprise cracks my jaw.

“That’s how you lost him, isn’t it?”

Culpability keeps it agape.

“You were so caught up in some local tale – hopefully by a womanlesspretty than our son was claiming – that you looked away for a minute too long and proof! Your free-spirited mini-me was off chasing tail.”

It’s impossible not to playfully cringe at her word choice.

“Hare.”

More amusement presents itself in the form of a crooked grin.

“Oh…stop it!” June loudly squeaks. “You know what I’m trying to say!”

“That you think our boy is already girl crazy,” I tease in return, “which so do I. I have never seen one person flirt with that many females in such a short amount of time before, and we both know I’ve hung out with some of the biggest playboys on the planet.”

“Not sure I like this line of insinuation.” Despite her statement, her demeanor remains lighthearted in nature. “All the more reason for me to takeover. Make sure he gets steered towards a better path.”

A few more laughs precede my confession. “To poorly explain myself…yes.I was listening to a story, envisioning this tree, picturing the shades I would use, which particular angling brushes I would need to reflect the feuding families and next thing I know, Lo has performed his worst trick to date by disappearing out of my sight.” Shame resumes its previous mantle in my stare. “And it scared the shit out of me. And made me really fucking grateful I only had the one versus possibly two I could’ve lost.”

Sympathy has her lifting my hand to her lips to provide a comforting kiss. “Shit like this happens to parentsall. The. Time.”

Skepticism doesn’t hesitate to appear.

“My dad lost me at a theme park once.”

“What?!”

“Yeah, had I not tripped over some lady’s baby stroller and splashed into a decorative fountain there’s no telling how long it would’ve taken for him to notice.”

“How…” One hand is thrown in the air in disbelief. “How?”

“I’ve never really had the greatest sense of direction.”

“Which is why we don’t let you hike alone anymore.”

“Precisely.” Humor battles for a place in my expression prompting her to add other examples to the conversation. “Mom lost Violet at a kid’s birthday party in the mall. She was supposed to be jumping on trampolines but decided to just walk out and ride the train by herself.”

Small chuckles shake my relaxing frame.

“I even lost Dakota once in a bookstore. One minute she was sitting down beside me and Ivy and Violet for story time and the next she had crawled away to read a very non-age-appropriateStar Warsbook.”

“So, she’s just always been into that?”

“Yup. Not everyone outgrows their ‘childhood favs’.”

I grant myself permission to laugh yet again.

“My point is, accidents happen, Tuck. And I’m not upset that it happened. I’m upset that you didn’ttell me. That you felt youcouldn’ttell me.”

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