While I'm at the stove pouring batter, he says, "Mama?"
"Yeah, baby."
"Is Rogue gonna stay our friend forever?"
I freeze with the ladle over the pan.
My chest pulls tight in a way I wasn't ready for. My eyes burn for a half second. I don't turn around. I keep my voice steady and I keep the batter moving.
"What makes you ask, baby?"
"I just wanna know. Ireallylike him. He doesn't talk to me like I'm little."
I flip the first pancake, put it on his plate and set the plate in front of him.
When I can trust my voice, I sit down across from him at the table and I put my hand on top of his. His hand is small and a little sticky and I love it.
"He's not goin' anywhere, baby. I'm sure of that."
Nash nods like I just confirmed something he already knew. "Okay."
Then he reaches for the syrup and squirts a crazy amount of it on top of his pancakes. I want to cringe, thinking about all the sugar he’s having, but my boy is happy and that’s the only thing that matters.
We go through the late morning together. I do dishes. He plays with Stitch on the porch. I sweep the kitchen and start a load of laundry.
We have lunch—grilled cheese for him, leftover chicken salad for me. By the time I'm wiping down the counter for the second time today, the morning has slid into the afternoon and Nash has migrated to the couch with his Nintendo Switch.
That's when my phone rings.w
It’s an unknown number, so I let it ring.
It rings twice more and goes to voicemail. Ten seconds later the phone rings again.
Same number.
I let that one ring out too.
This time the caller leaves a message.
I dry my hands and open the voicemail.
"Hadley, honey. I tried your old number last night but you must've changed it. Garrett's mama gave me this one. I'd really like to talk to you. I'm in Marble Falls for a couple more days. Just call me back, all right?"
My stomach drops.
It drops the way a stomach drops when you miss a step you didn't know was there.
My hands go cold. My knuckles go white around the phone.
Garrett's mama gave him this number.
I stand at the kitchen counter with the phone in my hand and I press my free palm flat against the laminate and I breathe.
In and out. Ten full breaths. I count them.
When I get to ten, I set the phone down on the counter as carefully as if it were full of water.
Then I tell Nash I'm running over to Rogue's for a minute, kiss the top of his head, and walk across the gravel.
