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Sam felt Moxie watching as she unbuckled the harness and laid it carefully on the edge of the concrete. She returned and stretched back out back on the court, and Moxie followed suit.
“So what made you want to be a cop?”
Sam considered the question for a moment. Truth was, she couldn’t remember ever wanting to do anything else; she’d just always wanted to be just like her dad, Gus. “Well, my dad was the chief of police here in McCall the entire time I was growing up, so that had something to do with it.” Sam smiled over at Moxie, then looked back up to the stars. “But I guess beyond that, it just fit me. I loved being a captain on Lake Patrol—”
“The cops out there on boats?”
“That’s them,” Sam said, smiling at the memory of Sara describing them the same way when she’d first come to McCall. “To tell you the truth, I like that a lot more than being on the administrative end of things as the chief.”
“Yeah. I get that.” A gust of breeze swept through the trees and across the court, lifting two leaves beside them into a silent dance on the concrete. “It has to be a lot less exciting behind a desk. Fewer teenagers holding up coffee shops and stuff.” Moxie turned toward Sam, leaning up on her elbow. “You should tell them that. Tell them you’re not as happy.”
Sam opened her mouth to tell Moxie that it wasn’t that simple. That she couldn’t just say she wasn’t happy and go off in search of something different, but she caught herself just in time and turned Moxie’s words over and over in her mind.
“You know what?” Sam tossed a rock she found beside her down the court and listened to it skip over the concrete and come to a stop before she continued. “I don’t know at what point I stopped making my happiness a priority, but you’re right. Maybe it just really is that simple.” Sam looked over and smiled. “Thanks for that. I’m going to think about the best way to get that done.”
Moxie grinned and flopped back over on her back. “Sara said she wants to take me shopping in Boise for school clothes.”
“Yeah, don’t worry. I told her I’m coming with.”
Moxie laughed, a spontaneous deep giggle that Sam had never heard before. It sounded a lot like happiness. “Good, because I was secretly afraid we’d have to go to all the girly stores, and they always take one look at me in there and roll their eyes.”
“Not on my watch they won’t,” Sam said. “I told Sara that since my style is more similar to yours, I get to take you to my favorite stores first. Like Title Nine and Patagonia.”
Moxie nodded and seemed lost in thought for a moment. “I had a Patagonia jacket that I loved last fall. I got lucky and bought it at a thrift store next to my school, but I couldn’t find it when I left that last foster placement.”
“I don’t want to brag, but I’m kinda the jacket guru.” Sam made a point of brushing her shoulder off and shot Moxie a serious look. “What did it look like?”
“It was just a black puffer ski jacket. Man, that thing was warm, though.” Moxie pulled her sleeves down over her hands. “The year before that, someone stole my coat at a football game in September, and there was no money for another one.” She hesitated. “Well, that and Mom was usually too high to drive me anywhere to get one.”
“So what did you do for the rest of the year?”
“I played a lot of basketball because the gym was warm.” Moxie’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “And I just pretended like I had one but didn’t want to wear it.”
Sam put her finger to her lips and pointed across the court as an opossum waddled out from the trees and onto the concrete, three babies attached like Velcro to her back. Moxie didn’t make a sound as she rooted through the leftovers of the sandwich that Moxie must have brought down from the house. The bandit snarfed down every crumb with a series of satisfied grunts, and when she disappeared back into the woods, Moxie finally giggled at the babies holding on for dear life.
“I’m going to tell you something right now that’s going to sound impossible.” Sam glanced over at Moxie, her deep brown eyes luminous under the lights. The moon was low and nearly full over the treetops, and the air seemed to soften and still around them as if it too, was listening. “And that’s okay. Just tuck it in the back o
f your mind, and someday, you’ll remember and realize it’s true.”
“Okay.” Moxie nodded. “I’ll remember.”
“Here it is.” Sam zipped up her hoodie and paused, choosing her words carefully. “I’m not going to let your world fall apart again. And it doesn’t matter what that takes.” She paused, glancing over at Moxie. “Wherever you choose to be, when life goes sideways, you have backup. You have me.”
Moxie nodded, and it was a long time before she spoke again. “You know why I haven’t been able to sleep?”
Sam looked over at her and shook her head.
“I’m so afraid of doing something wrong.” Raw emotion crept into Moxie’s voice, and she dug her fingernails into the palm of her other hand. “I’ve never been this happy, and I’m afraid to make a mistake and make it all disappear. It just makes me feel frozen sometimes.”
“That makes total sense to me. It’s really scary when things seem too good to be true. I think that’s why I slept in the hall so long and drove my parents crazy.” Sam reached for the basketball beside them and rolled it to Moxie to distract her from unknowingly scratching her hand. “But I think what you don’t realize yet is that we expect you to mess up. You’re a kid, and that’s your job—to make mistakes and do the wrong thing, then learn and try again.” She looked over at Moxie and held her eyes. “You’re safe now. You don’t have to be perfect or keep everything together. You can just be a kid.”
“You were right.” Moxie swiped at a tear with the cuff of her hoodie. “That does sound impossible.”
“I’m not going anywhere. But it’s not your job to believe me,” Sam said. “I’ll just prove it to you.”
Later, after Moxie had beaten Sam in two consecutive rounds of Horse and finally seemed tired enough to sleep, they walked back into the house and semi-quietly raided the cookie jar together. After Moxie climbed the stairs, cookie bag in hand, Sam slipped into bed with Sara, who turned over and sleepily reached back for Sam to scoot closer and spoon her. “How is she?”
“Baby,” Sam whispered, reaching for the lamp on the nightstand. “We need to talk about Moxie.”
