Page 2

I know Nana's street before Mom turns onto it. I know because there is a fire hydrant just before it that has blue spray paint on it. The light also seems different here somehow. I think it’s because there are more trees in this part of town.

Nana's house is yellow. There's a wind chime on the porch that I can hear from the car, just barely, when Mom cuts the engine. But she doesn't get out right away. I sit in the back with my backpack and wait. Mom doesn't like it when I run ahead of her.

She’s got both hands on the wheel, and she’s just staring at the house. Her shoulders are moving up and down, and I wonder if she is crying. But then I notice her hands shaking, and I know to wait.

"Okay," she says. I don’t know if she’s talking to herself or me.

She gets out and opens my door, and I climb out with my backpack. She takes my hand and walks up to the porch, which she doesn't always do. I hold it tight and don't say anything. Something doesn't feel right, and I don’t understand why I have a bad feeling now.

Nana opens the door before we even knock. She’s got a dish towel over her shoulder, and her reading glasses are pushed up on her head. She looks at me first, and her whole face lights up with a huge smile as she crouches down and holds out her arms to me.

"There's my boy."

She smells like coffee and vanilla, and she holds me tight like there is nowhere else in the world she would rather be. As she pulls back, she plants a big, sloppy, wet kiss on my cheek. I swipe it away and pretend it grosses me out, but secretly I love her wet, juicy kisses. They make me feel loved.

Over her shoulder, I can see my mom standing back a step, arms crossed, looking at the porch boards.

When Nana stands, she and Mom look at each other. Something passes between them that I don’t know how to describe. Kind of like they’re having a full conversation without words.

Nana looks back down at me and says, “Why don’t you head inside? I’ve got cookies on the counter.” I don’t tell her about the slushie; I just wink at Mom and dash inside.

I take two cookies before I sneak back to the front door, just inside enough that I can almost hear them, but they can’t see me. I can’t make out what they’re saying, but Nana’s voice is low. Mom’s voice is rough, like how she gets when I try talking to her when she needs her medicine. Nana clearly doesn't know about Mom’s medicine, so I decide it's probably best not to listen.

I put a cookie in my mouth and settle on the couch to wait.

I must have fallen asleep, because the last thing I remember is watching cartoons on Nana’s couch. I wake up to Mom crouched down, rubbing my forehead. I sit up, and she takes both of my cheeks in her hands.

"You're going to stay with Nana for a little while."

"How long?" Suddenly, I start to feel panicked, and I don’t know why.

"Not long." Her eyes are wet. "I just need to get things sorted out. Get us set up somewhere good, and get better. And then I'm coming back for you.

I'm six years old, and I love her more than I have words for. Who will remind her to take her medicine? Who will cover her up at night when she forgets her blanket? I’m a big boy now, so I try not to let the panic inside me show. She has to come back soon; she needs me.

"Okay," I say. Because I don’t know the words to describe what I really feel. I just know that my belly hurts.

"You be good for Nana, okay?" She pulls me into her chest, and I fall into her warm hug. "I love you more than everything," she whispers in my hair.

"I love you more than everything, too." I blink fast, but tears still come to my eyes.

She stands up, kisses me on the top of my head, looks at Nana, then walks out the door.

I jump up and run to watch her through the screen. I watch her go down the porch steps and into her car. I watch her get in the car and start it up before she pulls away from the curb. She didn’t wave out the window like she always does when I spend a weekend with Nana.

I stand there and watch out the door for a long time, tears filling my eyes. She said she would come back, but why does it feel like I’ll never see her again?

I refuse to let tears fall. Tears are for babies. She will be back. She said so.

She said so…

Chapter one

Addie

Most people grow out of county fairgrounds, but I built my whole damn life around them.

By eight in the morning, the Ashford Ridge fairgrounds already smell like dust, diesel, and fried dough. I’ve been coming here for so long this place feels like part of me. From the announcer crackling over the speakers, kids weaving between trailers with lemonade cups, and horses stomping impatiently against aluminum walls, it’s my favorite place on earth.