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“Good. And second, there are a million reasons why girls do what they do, but what you might find is this girl could be jealous of you, and the time her friend is dedicating to you instead of her. That’s just a guess. My advice is to treat her with respect and make allowances for her while she gets used to having to share her friend, especially if this thing between Kristy and you turns into a relationship.”

“Make allowances for her?”

“Yes. If it is that she’s feeling a little left out, it’ll just take time for her to get to know you and see you’re a great guy. Include her where you can in your time with Kristy.”

He stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Fuck, you chicks are complicated.”

I laugh. “And this is just the start of it for you. Wait till you’re married; shit gets hard then.”

We talk about his new job working at Hungry Jacks, and the books he’s been reading during the rest of the drive. He also tells me in passing conversation that Eloise hasn’t been home for four days. It’s not breaking news to Maddox when Eloise isn’t around, like it is to me. He’s so used to it that he actually seems more surprised when she is home for many days in a row.

As I park the car, I look at him. “Did you think any more about looking for your family?” We’ve briefly discussed his biological family, and Maddox gave me the impression he wasn’t interested to know them, but I wonder if that will change. I find it hard to wrap my head around the fact he lives with a woman who isn’t related to him, and who treats him badly and not at all like a parent figure should. I don’t voice any of this, though, because Eloise is all he’s known. And it’s not like I expect him to suddenly decide he wants to know his blood relations. I imagine that would be weird for him. I mean, fifteen years of not knowing they existed is a long time. If he is interested in meeting them, I think it would be an emotional process to get to that point.

“No. I don’t want to.” I recognise the same closed-off tone I often hear in Winter’s voice.

He makes a move to exit the car, but I reach out and place my hand on his arm, stopping him. “Maddox,” I say softly, “this is me you’re talking to. We can do honesty with each other without fear of judgement. I wouldn’t blame you if you were feeling all kinds of weird over this.”

He sits in silence, and I begin to think maybe I’ve read something wrong between us. We’ve hung out, and texted, and talked a lot over the last month, but perhaps I read more into the friendship we have than what we really do have.

When he doesn’t say anything, I grab my bag. “It’s okay, I get it. Let’s go choose some clothes for you to wow this girl with.”

As I reach for my door handle, he says, “I don’t want to meet them just because they’re blood. I don’t get why anyone wants people in their lives just for that reason. I only want people in my life because they’re good people and want good shit for me. So no, I’m not gonna search them out. And before you say something about needing family, I don’t need anyone; all I need is myself.”

I both love and hate what he’s said. Mostly, though, my heart just cracked knowing he’s closed himself off because he’s learned he can only rely on himself in life.

I nod. “Okay. I won’t ask you about them again.”

“Thank you.”

We head inside and I help him choose an outfit. It takes less than twenty minutes, because he’s intent on doing this as fast as possible. When I see him checking out the price tags and pulling a face at the cost of the shirt, I say, “Have you got enough?”

“I’m short $15.” He glances at one of the cheaper options he had. It’s nowhere near as nice.

“I’ll cover you.” Maddox is a proud teen. I can tell straight away that he doesn’t want to take my money, so I quickly tack on, “I mean, you’ll have to work it off.”

“How?”

“I’ll pay you $40 to mow my lawn and tidy up my garden.”

“Yeah, sweet. I’m in.”

We pay for the clothes and I drive him home. As he steps out of my car, he turns and says, “Thanks for today, queen. I appreciate it.”

I watch him walk up his path, my heart feeling all kinds of warm. This kid is helping me patch it back together and I never saw that coming.

37

Winter

* * *

“Baby,” Birdie says breathlessly when she answers my call. “I’m sorry I missed your call earlier. Mum and I were out Christmas shopping.” She points her finger to her head like a gun. “Shoot me now.”

“Angel, you love Christmas shopping. What’s going on?”

“I’ve changed my mind. And I’m not sure what possessed me for all those decades to love it.”

I chuckle, loving her easy mood. “What’s changed?”

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