But does he know that?
“Well, I think it’s great that she’s wanting to do this,” he says, and my heart skips a beat. “Ash deserves so much better than he’s had, and you’re amazing with him.”
“You… You don’t think it’s a mistake?”
Holden snorts; I can almost see him shaking his head. “Of course not. Like you said, he’s with you nearly every day already. The only thing that’ll really change is your title. Instead of just ‘Aunt’, you’ll be—what will you be?”
“Whatever he needs me to be.” I sigh and curl my legs under me, draping the throw blanket over my lap. “I just hope she doesn’t decide to say ‘never mind’.”
“I hope so, too.”
I end the call twenty minutes of idle conversation later, citing a need to go to bed. I let my head fall back, closing my eyes, and breathe in and out slowly. Regret lingers in my chest. I should never have told Holden about what Katie said. Not only is it not a definite, I haven’t said a word about it to my best friends or parents. They should have been the first to know. Why was it so easy to tell Holden, when it’s so difficult to even think about telling anyone else?
I fall asleep still wondering.
The next morning brings a check-up appointment for Ashton, and I puff with pride at how well he’s doing. Despite everything he’s gone through, he’s healthy and thriving. I struggle against my own tears when he starts screeching at the needle penetrating his skin. I loathe watching him get vaccinations, but I know it’s for the best. So I merely hold him close and whisper encouragement in his ear until the nurse is finished.
“You did so good,” I murmur, rubbing my hand across his back. “I’m so proud of you, baby. I know it hurts, but it’ll go away soon, I promise.”
“Any news on her?” the nurse asks as she gathers up the packaging. Lira pretends she isn’t dawdling, and I give her what she wants: an answer. Everyone who works in this office, including the pediatrician, knows Katie. They know the situation. The barebones, anyway.
“Not really. She called yesterday to apologize, but that’s about it. She has court soon, so I guess we’ll see what happens next.”
“Sometimes, I wonder why fate would ever have given that darling child to her, but you’re doing a great job, Dealla. Hey, Ashton, we got new stickers. Wanna grab a couple?”
“Yes,” the boy sniffles with a pout on his sullen, tear-soaked face.
I stifle a laugh and kiss his temple. “C’mon, kiddo, we’ll grab a sticker then go see Tristan and Luci for coffee.”
“I coffee?”
“Yeah, why not.”
Ashton seems to have forgotten all about the vaccinations by the time I park in the lot of Rise & Grind. He shifts the sticker in his hand, squealing when the sunlight catches on the glitter just right. I unbuckle him quickly, heft him out of his seat. His fingers cling tightly to his sticker as I carry him inside. Luci is moving before she’s even fully passed over the customer’s coffee: She plucks the toddler from my arms and presses a smacking kiss to his cheek.
“Hey!” I laugh. “If you’ve got him, who’s gonna get me my coffee?”
“You practically live here. Make it yourself.”
Snorting, I shake my head and make my way down the short hall that leads to the kitchen. I knock lightly then stick my head around the door. Kenny glances up from where he’s preparing danishes and grins widely when he sees her.
“Hey, Dealla! Long time, no see.”
“I know, I need to come by more often. So, uh, we have a minor issue. Ash stole Luci’s attention, which normally, I don’t mind, but I really need the caffeine this morning, so I’ll be making my own.”
“You injure yourself—”
“Pretend it happened elsewhere because your insurance doesn’t cover the stupidity of someone who decided they were smart enough to operate unfamiliar machinery.”
Kenny laughs, boisterous and bright, over the strain of classic rock playing on the radio. “Attagirl. Tell Luci that the pastries will be right out.”
“Thanks, Ken, you’re the best.”
Coffee and Ashton’s peppermint-chocolate milk in hand with minimal trouble, I head to the table where Luci and Ashton are talking animatedly—or rather, Luci isoohing andahhing over the sticker Ashton practically shoves in her face. I sit in a free chair and watch him interact, seemingly unaffected by the fact he hasn’t seen his mother in over two months. I open my mouth to say something, but my words are interrupted by the vibration of my phone.
I frown at the picture on the screen and murmur that I’ll be back. Confusion wars with eagerness. Holden usually texts before calling, but I almost don’t want to question it. I want to hear his voice. So I wait until I’m outside in the brisk morning air, I press the Accept button and bring the phone to my ear.
“Hey, babe, what’s up?”
