Page 44 of Glacier

“Don’t try to sweet-talk me, Juju. It doesn’t work. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

I was smiling wide when we ended the call. I loved my family. It hit me then that when I moved, I’d be several hours away from them. I’d never not had them in my life.

“Fuck,” I whispered to myself. “This is going to hurt.”

And it would. But it would be good, too.

For so long, it had just been the four of us, our little unit against the world. Now things were shifting. Gabe and Libby had their little one, and Dad was starting something with Sam. Life was moving and changing whether I liked it or not.

Maybe it was time for me to move, too.

Fin was the only thing that had me hesitating. He’d be a senior next year. Did I really want to drag him somewhere new? Would he even want to go?

And what the hell was the school like in Bitterthorn anyway?

Good Lord. Too many damn questions and not enough answers.

***

It was late when I parked the truck behind the feed store. I switched off the engine, opened the door, and looked up.

The lights were on in the apartment above the store. We’d lived there ever since we moved back after my attack.

It was home. The only home I’d had for years.

“Get a hold of yourself,” I muttered. “No need to be so bloody melancholy.”

“You know, Ma, talking to yourself is the first sign you’re getting old,” Fin said from beside me.

Laughing, I looked down at my son. “Cheeky ass.”

I clambered down and wrapped him in a hug, peppering his face with kisses despite his laughing protests. “Missed you, Fin.”

“Missed you too, Ma. Did you have a good weekend?” he asked, reaching into the truck to grab my bag.

He shut the door and slung an arm around my shoulders as we headed towards the stairs leading up to the apartment.

“I did,” I admitted softly.

He squeezed my shoulders. “Whatever’s got you worried, Ma, we can sort it together. Like we always do.”

God, I loved my boy.

I squeezed his waist and nodded, clearing the lump from my throat before answering. “Yeah, we will.”

That was all the time we got to talk because the apartment door swung open and my dad filled the doorway, waiting for me with his arms wide open.

“Missed you, girl. Get your ass over here and give your old dad a hug.”

Fin let me go and bounded up the steps ahead of me. I followed more slowly and walked into my dad’s arms.

Tears pricked my eyes. This was going to be harder than I’d ever imagined.

My phone dinged, and I pulled out of my dad’s arms, fishing my phone from my pocket.

My lips curved when I saw the message. It was as if he’d heard my thoughts.

Glacier: Miss you, darlin’. Hope you got home safe. Let me know.