“Want to be.”
I think about my answer before I say it.
It takes two seconds.
“I’m all-in, Mom.”
A bubble of excitement bursts in my stomach.
Who am I kidding? I want Jaxi. I love her. And I want Rosie too.
My family is right. It’s time for me to get my shit straight.
“Will you help me, Mom? I need to make this good.”
She smiles. “Go shower and brush your teeth. Get dressed. And for the love of God, do not put Oliver’s pink shirt back on. I have a plan.”
Twenty-Six
Jaxi
I hate this. I hate this. I hate this.
I take in the apartment complex in front of me. The eggshell blue paint with bright, clean white trim gives it a very fun and fresh vibe.
The landscape is meticulous. Large palm trees loom overhead and short, waxy-leaved bushes line the walkways. The trash receptacles are camouflaged to blend in with the surroundings. All in all, I can see Rosie and me living here.
If we have to.
“Are you ready, Rosie?” I ask, tugging on her hand.
She looks up at me. “Where are we?”
“We’re going to go inside. I need to talk to a man,” I tell her.
I don’t know when or how I’m going to tell her we’re moving here. It’s another change in her little life that’s already been pummeled with them.
It doesn’t seem fair.
But staying at Boone’s under the circumstances doesn’t seem fair either.
I can’t win. He must agree because he didn’t come home last night.
I thought he would. Down deep, I hoped he would. I almost broke down around four this morning and called him. But I know he knows his way home. If he was hurting as much as I was, he would’ve returned.
Believe what he’s showing you, Jaxi. You were right. Now keep going forward.
“Look! A bird!” Rosie says, pointing at a big black bird floating on a breeze.
“It’s pretty, huh?”
“Yeah.”
We get to the front door and walk inside. The lobby has a cathedral ceiling with an oversized fireplace on the back wall. It looks like it was a model home at some point.
I’m in love.
“Can I help you?” A woman with white-blond hair and a name tag that says Susan greets me with a smile.
“Yes. Hi. I’m Jaxi Thorpe, and I’m here to see Danny.”
Her smile grows wider. “If you will grab a seat, he’ll be right with you.”
She motions toward a few brown leather couches near the fireplace. I lead Rosie to them and get her settled next to me with my Kindle.
Despite the sadness in my heart, being in this environment sends a shock of excitement through me. I love watching the people come in and out. I imagine the job that Susan might do and how she might help various residents meet their needs.
“Someday,” I whisper to myself.
“Huh?” Rosie asks.
I ruffle her hair. “Nothing. I was talking to myself.”
“Oh.” She looks around. “Where is Boone?”
“I … I don’t know,” I say as cheerfully as I can muster. “I think he’s at work.”
She frowns. “He’s not at work.”
“He’s not?” I laugh. “And how do you know?”
“Because I saw his car.”
I tap the Kindle screen. “Watch your show, okay?”
She turns her attention back to the dog chasing an elephant.
I blow out a breath and wonder how hard actually moving here will be. Can I take Rosie’s stuff? Will Boone care? Will he be angry with me and make me leave it?
I can’t see him doing that. But I didn’t see us like this, either.
My heart cracks again as I remember his smile. His laugh. The way he would order Rosie a cake for dinner because her life had just fallen apart.
How he’d taken her to watch cartoons because what else do you do on a Sunday morning?
How he took her to golf with his grandpa.
The way he knew what her fear meant so quickly about him being gone and how he promised her he’d always be there for her.
I sniffle as discreetly as I can.
How he kissed my forehead in the middle of the night. The way he brushed against me at every opportunity. How he looked at me with stars in his eyes.
Even though it’s only been a short amount of time, he has stepped up. He has shown me—us—that we matter. Why fill your house with everything a little four-year-old girl needs if it’s only temporary.
My stomach sinks.
Am I wrong about this? Am I running out of fear?
I am scared. That’s a fact. But does being scared of losing make it okay not to try?
“Miss Thorpe?” Susan says from the front of the room. “Danny will see you now.”
“Come on, Rosie,” I say, pausing her show and then slipping the Kindle back in my bag. “We have to go do a few tasks, okay?”
“’Kay.”
I take her hand and we walk toward Susan. She leads us down a long corridor to a room on the end.