“Hmm?”
“You stay longer than the other people.”
June’s hands stilled mid-braid. “What do you mean, sweetheart?”
“The other babysitters. They came and went.” Lila was staring straight ahead, her voice carefully neutral. “You stay. You eat breakfast with us. You watch movies with us. You know what I like on my sandwiches.”
“Tomatoes on the side, not in the sandwich,” June said softly. “And absolutely no cucumbers.”
“See? You know.” A pause. “Are you going to go away too?”
The question landed like a stone dropped into still water.
She thought about Ember. About how certain she’d been that she understood what was happening, that she could trust her own judgment, that she was building something real. She’d been wrong then. She’d been so sure and so completely wrong.
What are you mistaking now?
“I can’t promise I’ll never leave,” June said finally. “I don’t think anyone can promise that, because life is complicated and sometimes things change in ways we don’t expect.”
Lila’s shoulders stiffened. June hurried on.
“But I can promise I’ll always tell you the truth. And right now, the truth is I want to stay. I like being here with you. I like our mornings and our cooking projects and the way you teach me things about otters.” She finished a section of the braid, let her hands rest on Lila’s shoulders. “I’m not planning to go anywhere, Lila. Not if I can help it.”
A long pause. Then a small decisive nod. “Okay. I believe you.” She tilted her head. “Can you finish the braid now? I want to see what it looks like.”
June smiled despite the ache in her chest. “One waterfall braid, coming up.”
The rain stopped by early afternoon, leaving the world washed and gleaming. June took Lila to the library to return their books, then to Bean There, Done That for hot chocolate even though it was July, because Lila had declared it a “cozy day” and June couldn’t argue with that logic.
Lina was behind the counter, blonde and bright, grinning when she saw them come in. She was June’s age, beautiful with her sparkling blue eyes, with an easy laugh and no reason to be complicated about anything.
“The usual?”
“Two hot chocolates today,” June said. “Extra whipped cream.”
“Big spender.” Lina winked at Lila. “Love the braid. Very fancy.”
“Miss Hollis did it,” Lila said. “It’s called a waterfall.”
“Gorgeous.” Lina slid the order through and leaned on the counter while the machine ran. “You’re in here a lot this summer. Nannying?”
“Yeah. For the season.”
“Nice gig if you can get it.” Lina handed over the cups with a smile that was warm and uncomplicated and entirely directed at June, and June smiled back and thought, not for the first time, about what it would be like to be someone like Lina. Same age. Same world. Someone you could text without calculating what it meant, go out with in public without it being a statement, fall for without the ground constantly threatening to shift beneath you. Someone whose life fit neatly alongside your own instead of running perpendicular to it at every angle.
She took the cups and found their table, and told herself it was a useless line of thinking.
They sat by the window. Lila drank her hot chocolate with careful sips, trying not to disturb the whipped cream. The streets outside were wet and quiet, the light still grey and soft.
This is what my life has become,June thought.Library runs and braids and hot chocolate with a seven-year-old. And waking up in sheets that smell like someone I have no business wanting this much.
It wasn’t what she’d planned. A year ago she’d been in Portland, working sixty-hour weeks in a kitchen that demanded everything and gave nothing back. She’d been in love—or what she’d thought was love—with someone who’d made her feel small in ways she was only now beginning to fully understand.
You’re too soft for this, June. That’s your problem.
She could still hear Ember’s voice. Still see the angle of her expression when she said things like that—like she was doing June a favor, telling her the truth everyone else was too polite to say. June had believed her. For a long time, June had believed her.
What are you mistaking now?
