Page 181 of Piece You Saved

As I follow Harley into the cozy entryway of a house that smells of vanilla and baking, I glance at Harley because I know who the troublemaker was. “Harley.”

With the way he likes to provoke Kade and his booping habit, it has to be him.

Oscar snorts. “Harley?Good God, no. You wouldn’t believe the trouble Simon got into. I often wonder how he graduated high school, never mind college.”

I blink in surprise as Harley wraps his arm around my shoulder and grins down at me, winking as he says, “I was the good one.”

Maude peers over her shoulder and shakes her head, smiling. “Nowthatwould be stretching the truth just a little, Harley.”

“What kind of things did Simon do?” I ask, still sad, but curious now as we follow Maude past framed pictures of Harley and Simon in pressed dress shirts.

“When Simon was a toddler, he had this habit of wanting to paint everything,” Oscar says.

I trail them into the living room, a snug, warm space with pale blue fabric couches, dark wood furniture, and more framed family photographs on the side table.

“The walls?” Makes sense for a kid to like painting walls.

Maude blows out a heavy sigh. “Anything that moved. Sometimes even our dog. And the cat... That poor cat.” She sighs again. “Ferguson spent more time hiding from Simon than doing anything else.”

“Can you blame him?” Oscar asks. “Better to hide than risk Simon painting his tail blue or pink.”

I smile as I picture Simon as a giggling brown-eyed, red-haired boy, toddling after the family cat with a paintbrush or a marker.

Maude motions to one of the couches. In front, she’s set up a teapot, a homemade white frosted cake, plates, and a thick photo album. “Take a seat,” she says. “We’ll be back with hot water to fill up the teapot.”

As Maude and Oscar leave Harley and me, I sweep my eyes around the room and spot a photo on the mantle beside a black urn.

Simon Trevor.

He’s at his college graduation, and he’s grinning.

He’s not the only one in the photograph. Harley is beside him, and he’s smiling too. They’re standing in front of a red-brick college building with their arms slung around the other’s shoulder. Like brothers.

“It’s Maude and Oscar’s favorite picture,” Harley explains when he catches me looking.

I stare at the photo of the two men. “You said you didn’t have a pack,” I say, keeping my voice low as Maude and Oscar move about in the kitchen a few feet away.

“I don’t,” he quietly responds.

I take in the photo of two men on a mantle and shake my head. “You do. Aden taught me that pack is family. And you have one of those, Harley. You always have.”

He says nothing for a long moment, then leans down and kisses the top of my head, tucking me close to his side. “Maybe you’re right, Jane.”

We stay with Oscar and Maude for nearly two hours, flicking through the photo album, laughing, crying, and talking about Simon. They make me wonder what it might be like to have my own little boy called Simon toddling around and trying to paint a wolf’s tail pink or blue.

After the life I’ve lived, I don’t even know if I can get pregnant. It’s not something I’ve let myself think about before. But now… now I do and if it were to happen, I think I would like it. I think I would like it a lot.

When Harley says it’s time to leave, Maude asks me to come back again, but only if I want to. They make it easy to say yes and mean it.

“We’ll have a BBQ,” Oscar says nodding firmly. “Bring your friends.”

“I don’t, uh, have many friends. Just…” My voice trails off.

Sam and the Hounds.

“Just?” Oscar prompts.

I glance over at Harley. He cocks his head and half-shrugs as if to say, why not?

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