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“I made a huge mural at school about the Revolutionary War and I had to bring it home on thebus,” Myla announced as she reached us, grabbing a hold of the side of the hammock. “It’s so cool. I did all of the big battles on like, a timeline I couldn’t put all the small skirmishes because I didn’t have room, plus who knows how many there actuallywere.” She was talking so fast that she had to pause to take in an audible gulp of air. “AndI drew pictures. Can I sit with you guys?”
“Hell no,” I replied instantly.
Emilia’s elbow dug into my side. “I don’t think you’ll fit,” she said apologetically.
“Want to come see my mural? I’m going to hang it up in the dining room. You can help if you want? My mom said she’d help but she hangs everything crooked.”
Emilia looked at me, trying to hold back her laughter. My sister was a lot on a good day, and today she was going for the gold.
“Go. Hang with my baby sister.” I shifted so she could slide out of the hammock. “We’ve got plenty of hammock time coming up.”
“Summer,” Emilia said happily.
“Only a couple more weeks and then we’re gonna spend all day in this thing.”
“Maybe notallday,” she replied as she stood up.
“Allday,” I countered, grabbing her wrist before she could walk away. She leaned down to kiss me while Myla made vomit noises.
“I’ll be right back,” Emilia said apologetically against my lips.
“I’ll be here,” I replied. “No worries, sugar, you got the rest of your life to hang with me in the hammock.”
“Promise?”
“One hundred percent,” I replied, letting her go.
Chapter 1
Emilia
“Don’t kick theseat,” I warned as my two-year-old son fussed in the back seat.
It was nearly midnight and we’d been on the road since we finished dinner. We were both so sick of the car that I wished I could throw a fit, too. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the luxury. After driving all over the western states, we were finally close to our final destination. Only an hour until we got into town and I could find a hotel for the night.
Relief at the thought of finally stopping somewhere warred with the feeling of dread and anxiety in my belly. After nearly three years away, I was finally going home to Eugene. I was looking forward to showing Rhett the place where I grew up, the parks I played at, and the house we’d lived in with the tire swing in the backyard. With every mile that brought us closer to our destination, the sense ofhomegrew.
“I want out,” Rhett yelled, kicking the back of the seat. “Out!”
“Rhett,” I called, glancing at him in the rearview mirror. “Stop kicking the seat, bud. We’re almost there.”
“Out.”
“We’ll be there soon.”
He stopped kicking the seat, but his scowl was clear in the mirror.
“Thank you.”
“All done,” he grumbled, pressing against his shoulder straps like he was going to Hulk out of the seat.
“Sorry, bud,” I said with a grimace. “I know you are. Where’s your toys?”
“Don’t know.”
He was silent for a few minutes, pouting, but eventually he must’ve found a toy because he quietly started making car noises.
The signs grew more familiar the closer we got to town. I remembered each of the exits off the freeway and where they went, but I wondered what I’d find if I took them. How much had changed in six years? I wished that I could’ve explored for a while before I went home, but with Rhett in the back seat and my checking account quickly dwindling, I didn’t have the luxury.
