Page 143 of Sterling Stone

Stone rounds his truck, popping open the door for Simon. I don’t look at the hero of the moment.

I need to lay eyes on Simon first.

The second he slips free, I rush him, falling to my knees and pulling him into my chest.

“I’m sorry, Simon. I’m so sorry.” For all I know, he heard the entire fight, but missed the part where Trudy adamantly said Simon wasn’t going anywhere. Maybe he only heard half the argument. Maybe he misunderstood the entire thing.

All that mattered was that he was home and we were going to fix everything.

Meaning nothing was changing.

Simon is staying with Trudy, right where he belongs.

Clinging to him, I cup the back of his head and hold him crushed to my chest. Then I push him back by the shoulders.

“Don’t you ever do that again?” I warn. “You scared me, and Jolene, and Grandma Trudy.”

My voice is tougher than it should be, fear and relief colliding inside me.

“Taxi,” a stern but gentle voice speaks from beside Simon.

And I pull the boy back to me. “I love you, Simon. I love you.” Tears fill my eyes. “Please, don’t leave me.”

His fear mirrors my own. The fear that others would leave me behind, wouldn’t want me around, but he needs to know that fear so we don’t have more misunderstandings.

He’s afraid I’ll go.

And I’m afraid he won’t stay.

Simon wiggles, signaling me to release him, and he stares at me.

“Your glasses.” The frames are off kilter, one lens cracked. “Are you hurt?” My hands hover over him, scanning his shoulders and arms, glancing at his legs and feet, before returning to his face.

He shakes his head.

“But I hurt your heart, didn’t I?”

Tears begin to leak from his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Simon. I didn’t mean it. I don’t want you to go anywhere. I want you to stay right here so I know where you are. Where Trudy loves you.” I swallow thickly. “I’m gonna stay right here, too. So Trudy can love me as well.”

My vision is completely blurred, like I’m the one wearing cracked glasses.

I pull Simon back to me, afraid to let him go.

“Are you gonna keep sleeping on the couch?” he asks, like nothing else matters right now.

I chuckle, watery and thick, and pull back. “Well, I’ll probably live someplace else, but here in Sterling Falls. Where I can be close to you, and we can keep drawing.”

“Can I paint a building with you?”

“Absolutely.” I tug at the thin jacket he’s wearing and jostle him again. “You can be my apprentice.”

“What’s an apprentice?”

“A student. An understudy.”

“Sounds magical,” he says, tilting his head.