Page 99 of Seven Days in June

“You’ve got all of us figured out, huh? It’s like you’re the emotional-support buddy of the world.”

“I should trademark that.”

“But do you have an emotional-support buddy? Are your friends good listeners, like you?”

She thought of Parsley with her self-obsession and almost cackled. “Nooo. I love my girls—don’t get me wrong. But middle school is so tragic. FaceTiming boys at sleepovers, vaping at Governors Ball—it’s silly. My friends are silly. But I’m not silly. I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to be an adult.”

“Adulthood is a lie, Audre. We’re all just tall toddlers.”

“Oh, I’m aware. I’m excited to do itright. Better than y’all.”

He eyed Audre, a slight girl, all limbs and eyes and brain, and nodded. “You know what? I believe you will.”

Shane held up his glass of seltzer, and Audre clicked it with her Shirley Temple. And then they sat for a minute, enjoying the balmy air and peaceful backyard views from Cece’s balcony. She would’ve been able to see the skyline of downtown Manhattan way off in the distance if not for the two small, intertwined magnolia trees sprouting from Cece’s Brooklyn-jungle backyard, their branches stretching to the terrace.

“Mom is my emotional-support buddy,” admitted Audre. “She’s my person.”

Shane smiled softly. “Soul mates.”

Abruptly, Audre turned her whole body to face Shane. “You and my mom aren’t just friends, Mr. Hall.”

“What? But we are.”

“Please, I’m not a child.”

“You are a child, though.”

“Only chronologically.” Insulted, she folded her arms across her chest. “Are you gonna be nice to her?”

“Nice?”

Audre peered around the corner, in the direction of the sliding doors. Shane followed her gaze. No sign of Eva, so they were clear.

“Be nice to her,” she said, low and fast. “My mom keeps a lot of stuff inside, but her thoughts are really loud. I know she’s been scared and lonely. She has a disability, but you probably know that. It’s a barometric-pressure thing. When it rains or snows or gets really hot or really cold too fast, she hurts. But alcohol, stress, loud noises, and weird smells do it, too. You have to learn her triggers. And please, just be patient with her. Sometimes she has to lie down for a long time. You might feel bored or lonely or even rejected, but she can’t help being sick.” Audre rested her hand on Shane’s shoulder. “Mom feels guilty about who she is. Make her feel happy about herself.”

Shane nodded but kept his mouth shut. Words escaped him.

“She can’t put on lipstick, ’cause her hands shake too much from pain,” revealed Audre. “But she put it on today. For you.”

“I hear you,” Shane managed, his words a broken croak. “I get it.”

“Are you crying, Mr. Hall?”

“No,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut. He hadn’t shed a tear since that morning in DC a thousand Junes ago. He’d thought he’d forgotten how. “No, I’m not crying. I’m fucking bawling.”

“Ugh, I have this effect on people. But it’s okay to cry,” she said, handing him a cocktail napkin. “Destigmatizing male vulnerability is the first step toward rebuilding the absolute ruin that straight men have left the world in.”

“This is so inappropriate. I’m sorry.” With a mighty exhale, Shane ran his hand over his face. Christ, this girl was a feelings ninja. “Don’t worry—I’ll be nice to her.”

“You have to promise.”

In theory, he knew that making promises to children was a dangerous thing. You fall short, you shatter their safety net. But he did it anyway, because heknewthat he’d keep his word. What was the point of doing the grueling work of staying sober if he didn’t also become trustworthy? Shane was a surrogate dad/uncle/mentor figure to dozens of lost kids, and he’d vowed to them all that he’d be a FaceTime call, a text, or even a flight away. Which he was.

It wasn’t easy. Being permanently on call for a cross-country crew of delinquents was stressful as hell. And time consuming. Ty called him every time he hit a high score on Roblox. Shane had no idea what Roblox was, but if it kept Ty off the block, then cool. Shane was responsible for him. He’d made a vow, and he staked everything on it.

“I promise,” he said definitively. “Real talk? I waited a long time to make your mom happy. Fifteen years felt like thirty.”

“Well,duh, why didn’t you find her before?”

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