Page 130 of Sterling Stone

He’s still a law officer.

I knew I needed to separate the man from the badge, but I’d already been on the struggle bus, and I needed to get off the ride.

I was emotionally exhausted and just wanted to crawl into bed. Preferably with Stone, but tonight, I just needed to be alone with my thoughts. Or maybe, not think so much for a little while.

Those the only people you’re here for?

How did he not see he was also part of the choice? The choice I’d only decided earlier in the day.

I want to stay.

But I also need a minute. Or a good night’s sleep.

Instead, I walk into Trudy’s, preparing to check on her before retiring to Gloria, and run into Jolene again.

“Where the hell have you been?” The sharpness of my youngest sister’s tone as I enter the house startles me. She’s sitting in the small blue and white kitchen on one of Trudy’s hard-backed chairs with a cup of tea in front of her and a glare that might melt a weaker person, but not me.

“Excuse me? I didn’t realize I had a curfew or that you were my mother.” Bringing up a term like Mama isn’t fair, and I’m about to apologize when Jolene continues.

Jolene purses her lips, her tone still cutting. “Trudy needed dinner and Simon had a school project.”

I blink a few times. “So you cook, and then you tackle homework.”

Jolene snorts. “I’m not his mother.”

The jab hits. I’d like to think Jolene is only tossing out the line because of what I said, still, it isn’t fair to Simon.

I glance over my shoulder, toward the hallway. “Would you keep your voice down? Where is Simon?”

Jolene brushes her hand through the air. “In his room.”

When Stone is present, Simon stays in the kitchen or living room, because Stone is engaging. He knows how to talk to a child and encourage conversation. He easily shows interest in whatever Simon shares, and on occasion, the two of them have gone into the yard to play catch.

When Stone leaves, often Simon goes to his room.

The thought gives me pause, the images of Stone with Simon conflicting with the story he’d told me earlier.

Letting his brother slip through his fingers. Guilt and shame riddled his voice as he shared the story.

But I couldn’t think of Stone and his brother right now. I had my sister to contend with.

I cross my arms, keeping my voice low. “No one said you have to be his mother to show compassion, Jolene.”

How many times did we sit at Trudy’s dining room table amid the other kids and do our homework? Trudy wasn’t our mother and yet she did the best she could to understand complicated math and tackle last-minute science projects.

“We need to discuss the kid.” The words are blunt and not to my liking. Not one bit

Maybe Stone was right about my sister, maybe she’s damaged in a way I can’t possibly understand. Because no one ever spoke about her the way she’s speaking about Simon.

“Simon,” I correct, glancing over my shoulder again, hoping he is in his room, preferably with headphones on and not able to hear this very un-adult-like interaction.

“He can’t stay here.” Her gaze drops to the teacup in front her. She pinches the handle and twists the cup on the saucer.

My mouth drops open, letting her words settle faster than sugar in her tea.

“Why the fuck not?” I flail my arms outward, anticipating some unscientific reason. Not to mention, who made her a judge. Trudy has every right to have Simon with her. A court of law gave her custody of him.

A floor board creaks and I turn my head again, stepping toward the entryway.