Page 29 of 10 Signs You Need to Grovel

Sadie gets the kids working on an art project, using my kiddie coloring books as inspiration for a more age-appropriate exercise. They’ll trace the birds or bugs or butterflies from the book, then add their own imagined forests around their drawings, giving them freedom to create. She even has a stack of tracing paper she magically pulled from her backpack.

I’m not surprised by her quick thinking. In high school, she developed an art-inspired board game for her history class, using the playing cards and landing spots to teach the class about Greek and Roman art. Predictably, she aced the project. I have no doubt today’s nature activity will be a similar success.

Of no use to her project, I hang back, reviewing all the ways Olivia will torment me with her question extortion.

Prying into my father’s cartel ties.

Asking how I crushed Sadie’s heart.

Grilling me about my bad tattoos.

There’s also the possibility she’ll ditch our deal and tell Max about my past before I tell him who I am. A prospect I can’t let happen. So far, he’s been as withdrawn as Sadie described. Building a relationship with him won’t be easy, but I will not fail. I need to use my time with him to my advantage. Form a gradual bond as I planned. Organize less pitiful games that add some fun to his day.

Maybe I’ll even learn how to keep secrets from a freaking twelve-year-old girl.

Max is sitting with Jasmine and Zoey, the three of them on a fallen log. The other boys are on the opposite side of the trail. Olivia’s on her own, in a more secluded spot, leaning her back against a tree. I’ve sequestered myself on a boulder, far enough away to freak out in private.

When Sadie’s done ensuring they’re all occupied, she joins me on my freak-out rock. “You look like that time Justin Bernardini barfed beside you at the fair, and you nearly broke your nonpuking streak.”

I broke my nonpuking streak the day I found out I had a son. Information Sadie doesn’t need to know. “Olivia is special,” I say.

Sadie grins at my discomfort. “She’s something, all right. Her mother pulled me aside before she left. Said she’s been going through a rough divorce, and it’s been hard on them both. Be patient with her.”

Better plan: find a way to neutralize Olivia’s vocal cords, thwarting her promised interrogation. “Thanks for stepping in with the art stuff. They seem engaged.”

Especially Max, who’s hunched over his book, tongue poking out of his mouth, utterly focused on his drawing.

“I always have papers and activities with me. Nothing’s worse than getting stuck somewhere with no way to entertain a kid.”

She shifts on the rock, and our arms brush. The tiniest contact, but I swear I have a head rush. Instead of draping herself over me the way she would have a decade ago, Sadie sits posture-perfect and rests her hands on her thighs, seeming tense. I’m stiff and aware of my every breath, doing my best to keep my knees from splaying out and hitting hers.

I clasp my hands together and massage my palm, needing a start. A way to rebuild a friendship with Sadie, like Mirielle suggested. Put her at ease. We have to coparent Max. The last thing I want is for her to feel awkward around me.

I inhale her summer-fresh scent, watch the wind play with the loose hairs around her face. So damn beautiful. “Art,” I say roughly.

She frowns at me. “Art?”

“After I left and everything, your internship at the Contemporary Art Museum in Raleigh was supposed to turn into a full-time job. Did you take it?” Assistant to the head curator, a boost to her future career, where she hoped to eventually move up, plan inspiring exhibits, open people’s minds with thought-provoking installations.

She picks at her nails, everything about her tensing further. “It was too much. At first, I was terrified you’d come back and I’d miss the chance to talk to you and tell you I was pregnant. When it was clear that wasn’t happening, I kind of fell apart. My sister was busy with her own life and nursing career. I pushed my friends away. Refused to tell anyone in town I was pregnant, dreading the pity and gossip. So when my dad got a job in Locklear a few hours away, I just . . .” She lets out a long sigh. “I thought going with them and starting fresh somewhere would help.”

“With your parents?” The narcissistic assholes who cared only how the world affected them? Who never once considered how their careless words and fighting tore down their daughter? “Sadie, why would you move with them?”

She goes quiet at the question, and regret slams into me. She stayed because I was gone. Because she was alone. Because the hardship you know often feels safer than the hardship you don’t.

“I’m sorry,” I say quickly, putting the weight of my heartache into the words. “I get it. You were scared.”

“Yeah, well.” She chews her lip. “It didn’t take long for things to go south. Money was tight. Dad lost his new job, and the fighting got intense, but the wild thing, the thing that kind of shook me, was how I gradually started to feel stronger.” Even now, her spine straightens. “Like, having Max gave me perspective. I realized being around my parents was toxic for both of us, and I had no choice but to leave their home. Figure things out on my own.”

Because she’s a strong, capable woman, but her confession carves another scar on my heart. “What did you do?”

She plants her palms on our shared rock and leans back. “Remember that day when I picked up the phone at home and overheard my mom talking to my grandmother?”

“Your grandmother was trying to convince her to leave your dad.”

She nods. “My grandmother got it—how unhealthy their relationship was. And I remembered loving her from when I was little, but my parents had cut her out of our lives, and it had been so long. Anyway, I decided to find her, let her know she was a great-grandmother. Maybe move near her to have some family support. And Des”—her shoulders lower as she tips her face up to the sky—“she was so sweet. Wouldn’t let me get my own place. Insisted I move to Tennessee and move in with her.”

She tells me about the joy of finally finding love in her family, how doting Celia was with Max, how helpful to her. Turning all that struggle and fear into hope and happiness.