“Yeah, Ry, I am.” The words were choked and small. I desperately wanted to tell him Lemmon had been bullying me for years. I wanted to confide in him about this one thing I’d held close to my chest, never telling anyone but Mayte, but I couldn’t bring myself to. I didn’t want him to think I was weak, and, more than anything, I didn’t want him to fight my battles for me. I tried every day to remind myself she was a bully because she’d had a harder life than I did, but those words only came as a comfort for so long.
The motor whirred to life, the metal creaking as we began our ascent. His hand slid up my waist to my bare shoulder before cupping my cheek, smoothing a thumb beneath my eye, where I’d unknowingly allowed a tear to fall.
“I’m sorry that happened, baby,” he whispered, unaware of how that word unfurled a cacophony of emotions inside me, stealing the breath from my lungs. “Accidents happen, but it’s still shitty.”
If the word “baby” made me feel whole and ready to spill my guts to him, finally letting him into the darkest valleys where I hid my secrets, the word “accidents” had the complete opposite effect, pushing me to shut down and protect my heart in the best way I knew how: with silence.
His hand dropped, his arm winding around my shoulders to tug me against his chest, the place I’d always felt safest. I reveled in the moment, unsure at the time how much longer we had left like that—not just on the ride, but before he realized I was too terrified to lose him to truly give in to my feelings.
A knock at the door pulls me from the memory, pushing me into the present, where Lemmon is still a bully but holds so much less control over me and my actions. I release a sigh, heading to the door to spend the night at the fair with two of my favorite people.
Chapter Ten
SAT ON A FROG
SATURDAY, APRIL 26
Ever since we arrived,I haven’t had a single second alone with Lola. She’s been pushed and pulled in every direction by the well-meaning people of this town, but I can see how much it breaks her spirit every time she explains she doesn’t have a job yet and she isn’t sure how long she’ll be in town. It’s in the small cracks of her smile, the way her shoulders tighten. It’s clear this isn’t easy for her, no matter how hard she tries to brush it off.
I press my hand to the small of her back, excusing us from Cindy and Sheryl, two of Lola’s past teachers. “Sorry, ladies. If you’ll excuse us, I believe I have a chili contest to judge.”
Sheryl swats at an invisible gnat in front of her face, scrunching her nose as she says, “Phewie! I’m glad my husband won’t be judgin’ this year. The day after, he always sounds like he sat on a frog!”
Laughter rips through my chest as I shake my head, steering us toward the white-topped tents a few yards away. “What a lovely picture she’s painted,” Lola teases.
“I’m glad you live alone, Ry. Hopefully, for your own sake, you took some prebiotics or something,” Mayte adds, nothelping my case. I’m sure this conversation will really have me winning Lola’s heart.Not.
“Okay, you two. Quit pickin’ on me,” I say, quickly changing the subject. “Let me take Isabela. She can hang out with me so the both of you can go on a few rides and enjoy some free childcare.”
Mayte’s face lights up, hitting me with a megawatt smile as she reaches out to pinch my cheek. “Thisis why you’ve always been my favorite Lockhart brother,” she says, dropping her hand to drag Lola off toward the Teacups and the Swing Ride, the only two Mayte has ever ridden.
The chili contest wraps up smoothly, with Andres Baker claiming victory for the sixth year in a row. I don’t even need to try his chili to know it’s incredible. The man’s got the touch, no question.
I weave through the crowd, Isabela strapped into her stroller, her little head slumped back, mouth slightly open. Drool drips down the side of her cheek, but she’s out cold, lost in the quiet of a nap. The noise and bustle of the festival fade into the background, and for a moment, I feel like I’m in a different world, tucked away from all the chaos.
Mayte spots me from ahead, her frantic waving cutting through the crowd like a flare.
“Ry!” she yells, her voice sharp and familiar. I make my way over, maneuvering the stroller carefully, just enough to avoid waking Isabela. She stays asleep, oblivious to the world.
“Hey, y’all have fun?” I ask, trying to keep things light.
“As usual.” Mayte grins, though there’s a bit of exasperation in her voice. “The problem child here has consumed half her weight in cotton candy and funnel cake, so I think it’s time you take over. You can handle her while I get back to my actual child.”
She crouches down to check on her daughter, wiping her mouth with the edge of a blanket, her expression softening in a way that makes me realize just how much she’s been juggling.
“You sure you’re okay on your own?” Lola asks her, concern pulling at the edges of her voice, her brow furrowing like she’s been carrying a weight of her own.
“Yep,” Mayte says, a hint of humor in her voice as she steers the stroller, taking control of the situation without giving anyone a chance to argue. “You two go ride that deathtrap of a Ferris wheel.”
“Well, guess I’ll have to get you another cotton candy if we’re gonna brave that thing,” I say, glancing at Lola with a teasing grin.
Her cheeks turn pink, her eyes shifting, not quite meeting mine. The uncertainty is there, faint but lingering, like we’ve been away from each other long enough that it’s hard to remember what this is or what it could be.
Lola waits in line while I grab the cotton candy. I return with two massive blue cones and hand one to her, and she immediately tears off a chunk, shoving it into her mouth. A piece sticks to the tip of her nose, and, without thinking, I reach out, swiping it off with the edge of my thumb. Her eyes flick up to mine, a quick, sharp breath catching in her throat, the air between us suddenly feeling charged. For a moment, everything else fades, and all I can focus on is the air between us. But the attendant’s voice, sharp and insistent, breaks the spell. “Next in line!”
I step closer, pressing my hand to the small of her back, guiding her forward. “Come on, Lols. Don’t wanna miss our turn,” I tease, my voice light, a little breathless from the sudden tension.
She nods, settling into the seat, her movements quick but purposeful as she clips herself in. The cotton candy cone is wedged between her knees, untouched for the moment. It’s clear she’s not looking for me to buckle her in this time, not like I’ve done every other time before. There’s a shift in her, something subtle, but it’s enough to make me hesitate for a beat.
