Page 35 of South of The Skyway

It was my first time seeing her shoulders curl, and I immediately regretted asking the question. Fidgeted in my seat. “My parents bought one-way tickets on the hot mess express, both looking for a way off the crazy train when they got pregnant with me. They were the textbook example of a duo who shouldn’t procreate.” Brexley sighed, grabbing the straw wrapper off the table and leaning back as her fingers began shredding the paper into tiny pieces of glum confetti.

“Mom took off when I was too little to remember much. And Dad…he tried but wasn’t cut out for living life as Mr. Mom. His career came first. And I—wasthere.” She shrugged again, the motion almost compulsive as she tore more paper pieces off the end. It took a massive internal battle to keep from reaching out to comfort her, silence her fidgeting. “When I was in high school, I decided to find my mom—what I expected would happen when I did…I still don’t know.”

It was like a car wreck. Miserable and messy, I still couldn’t stop myself from asking, “And, did you?”

“Yeah,” she said, expression flat and eyes hollow. Now I definitely regretted my prying. The sinking feeling in my gut told me whatever haunted her wasn’t something I could fix. “Married with two daughters. She started her own perfect family in Maryland. And left us with nothing.”

It wouldn’t help to tell her a chemically balanced mother couldn’t have left her child. Wouldn’t help to rationalize. So, at last, I stopped her ceaseless shredding, looping her hand around mine and running a thumb over her knuckles as her throat bobbed, eyes darting between our joined hands and my face.

“Thank you,” I said softly. I meant it. She’d opened up in a way I couldn’t fully reciprocate. Trusted me with that piece of her so willingly. That pretty little face flushed again.

“For sharing my pathetic story?”

“It’s not pathetic, Brex. You became a badass all on your own. That’s noble.”

“I—” Her mouth popped open before closing again, like she’d thought better of what she was about to say.

“What?” I squeezed her fingers between mine. Gave a little nudge.

“I’m sorry, I—that was—I tend to overshare. That was too much info and not even what you asked.”

“It was exactly what I asked, Brex. I appreciate not being tossed theCliff Notesversion.” I squeezed her fingers again, hoping the contact was reassuring. “Are you in touch with your dad, now?”

“When he remembers he has a daughter, we do alright. Postcards, mostly. The occasional airport terminal phone call or picture.”

“I’d give Juniper approximately ninety seconds before she calls you her own.”

“Your mother won’t like me.” She rolled her eyes.

“What on earth makes you say that?”

“Tattooed smut dealer who slunk into a shady bathroom and seduced her perfect son?”

“She’d congratulate you for the efficient catch.”

To my utter delight, she actually laughed.

“You know what sucks about this whole situation, Rhyett?”

“The fact that they’re closing before we can make room for a second dessert?”

Her laugh turned into a snort. “That,” she agreed. “And the fact that you don’t live north of the Skyway.”

FIFTEEN

BREXLEY

Brexley

Damn you.

Noel

LOL, I KNEW IT!!

Brexley

What the hell is in the water in Alaska?

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