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  “Some garlic should heal me in no time.”

  “That’s what I always say but Dave thinks I use it because it wards off ghosts.”

  “Well, you’re both right.” She took out a handkerchief and spat green stuff into it.

  Gross!

  “You’re cuckoo.”

  “And I wear that title with pride.” She grinned.

  She was completely ignoring my concern for her health. Yet why should have that surprised me?

  “The pills the doctor gave me are too big anyway, and upset my stomach. If I don’t die of arthritis, then I’ll die of ulcers from all the medicine.”

  “Have you tried something more natural? I can ask my naturopath.”

  “I’m not falling for that again. Tim, God rest his soul, was on herbal medicine, and look where that got him.” This time she at least covered her mouth when she hacked.

  Mrs. Bower’s husband had fallen ill to multiple sclerosis. The disease progressed quickly until it spread to his heart. Unfortunately, there were no medicines in this world that could have stopped it, but Mrs. Bowers chose to believe her theories.

  “He’s as stiff as they get.” She looked far in the distance. We’d buried Mr. Bowers by a willow tree near the stream, his favorite fishing spot. I’d thought it weird at first, but knowing Mrs. Bowers the way we knew her now, it didn’t surprise me that she wanted the love of her life to be buried nearby.

  Would anyone want me buried close to them? The thought jumped into my head just as Dave did the last round from the car and brushed past me. Gentle shivers, the good kind, swept over my body. This place was softening me, and from that sly look on Dave’s face, he knew it as well.

  “Everything is shelved, Mrs. Bowers,” he said.

  “Thank you, Dave. You know if I were younger—”

  “—by one hundred years,” I said under my breath, and caught both their dirty looks.

  “Then I’d marry you today.” Her insinuation did not go unnoticed.

  “Thanks, but this heart already belongs to someone.” He smiled.

  Mrs. Bowers’ gaze never left me. “And she chooses to stomp on your heart over and over again.”

  I rolled my eyes. If she kept this up, I’d revoke my offers to help her. Who was I kidding? Despite all my protests, I loved coming here. It was one of the places in my life where all my good memories were kept.

  “You two gang up on me while I use the washroom,” I said.

  “Millie?” Mrs. Bowers stopped me on my way in. “It’s getting cold outside in the evenings. Can you bring down the box of hats and scarves I have in the attic?”

  Was that another way to get to me? She couldn’t have known what we’d done in the attic, could she? I narrowed my brows as she added, “You wouldn’t want me to freeze when hell does, would you?”

  “It’s not a bad idea,” I grumbled.

  “See, I knew you believed it could happen.” She grinned, and the God-awful hope in her eyes scared me. Whatever was going on in that head of hers, I hoped it was because she was old and delusional.

  Dejected, I went inside, while Dave remained with Mrs. Bowers. Through the window, I could see him sit down on the bench beside her and lean down to pet Dorothy as she curled her body around his leg. He then put his arm around Mrs. Bowers, and my heart almost melted. Looking at them both, you’d think he was her grandson. If I had to be honest, I’d say that despite her mean spirit and always-untimely sense of humor, she was the closest to a grandmother I’d ever known.

  “Who are you spending Thanksgiving with?” I could hear him ask her.

  “Me, myself, and I. Unless you want to join me?”

  “Dave’s got a girlfriend,” I called out before escaping further down the hall. I wondered how he’d get away with that one without breaking the old lady’s heart. She’d had so much hope for us, why should I always have to be the bearer of bad news?

  I hurried into the bathroom, restocking the toilet paper while I was there before I hopped up the steep stairs toward the attic. This was the only upper floor in this bungalow. There were three other bedrooms downstairs, but that hadn’t stopped Dave from creating a comfortable spot in the attic. A memory flashed through my mind of sneaking up here at night that first summer. I felt my mouth curve up as warm feelings of love filled me. Despite what had happened between me and Dave, I’d cherish those memories forever.

  The room was hot and stuffy, so and I opened one of the two dormer windows. A stiff, cool breeze swept through, rolling clumps of dust along the floor. My gaze flew to the small bed in the corner, and I smiled as I remembered Dave and I, cuddled on the mattress. I looked out the small attic window. The fields were bare and stretched right up to the mountains. The corner of the barn I’d almost burned down was visible from here too. I felt my cheeks heat as the images of all the things we’d done on this property started coming back.

  I looked back toward the door, just in case he’d decided to follow me up here, before I reached to the joist overhead. My fingers swept along the old wood until I found the piece of paper. I couldn’t believe it was still here. I blew a breath over it before unfolding the yellowed page. In the middle was a heart, and instead of our initials with a plus sign between them, I’d read the promise we’d written inside:

  I promise to get mad. I promise to make mistakes. I promise not to look or act perfect all the time. I promise to argue and to scream. I promise to tell you when you’re not only wrong but also right. I promise to do and say stupid things I cannot explain. I promise to test your patience.

  I also promise to be real and honest. I promise to hug you whenever I can. I promise to stand by your side, to trust you, support you, and believe in you. I promise to love you as perfectly as I can, forever.

  Both our signatures were inscribed underneath. I then turned the page to read our individual inscriptions.

  My pulse raced as I read his words: I love you so much more than just to the moon and back. Then I read mine: Meeting you was fate, becoming your friend was easy, loving you was inevitable. A memory snuck out of my eye and rolled down my cheek. I wiped it dry with the back of my hand and folded the paper over, the way I’d found it, and placed it back on the joist. I wondered whether Dave had forgotten about it, but I doubted it.

  Why did I come here? Hats and scarves!

  I pushed the boxes sideways, looking for the ones that were marked with newspaper cutouts of wardrobes. April and I had way too much time on our hands when we’d organized this place for Mrs. Bowers. I pulled an oversized box out. A piece of paper remained on the floor behind it. Another gust of wind flew from the window and lifted the paper up, carrying it away. I ran after it and grasped it between my fingers just before it flew out the window.

  When I turned it over, I realized that it was a picture with a much younger Mrs. Bowers and Mr. Bowers. They were about my age, holding a little girl’s hand, one on each side.

  I gasped as I pulled my finger over the girl’s face. Who was she? And why did she look familiar?

  Chapter 6

  Dave

  Twelve years earlier

  “So, today is the day. Are you nervous?” I asked Millie.

  “I’m not sure. Yeah, I guess. No one’s wanted to take me in, forever. What are my chances?”

  “According to my father, pretty good. But I’m not the judge.” Millie pushed the planets on the 3D model on my desk. They spun on their coat hanger holders, orbiting the sun. She’d been looking at me differently over the past three weeks. Millie would knock on my bedroom door more often, asking whether I had any homework or if she could help with anything. She’d flick the switch on and off to see the florescent stars on my ceiling glow and dim. I’d named the few constellations I drew with a sharpie there, and she asked about those as well.

  I sat down on my bed beside her. Millie was wearing a new pair of leggings my sister had given her and a long sweater. The past few weeks she’d been looking more like a girl who belonged in the world — a happ
y girl whose energy and excitement were contagious.

  My father started the official process of applying to be Millie’s legal guardian the day after that first night she spent here. And there hadn’t been a night when I had to park outside the old shack since then. She could live with us for as long as she wished. Any money from the board payments would go directly to her, so she could buy new clothes and whatever else it was that a girl her age needed. I wasn’t an expert, but seeing the collection of nail polishes, scarves, shorts, skirts, and shirts my sister had, I had a feeling that girls had much more to spend on than boys. My dad had even offered her a few hours of work at the lab each week, on the condition that she keeps up with her studies. It was clerical stuff, sorting and organizing. Millie seemed ecstatic.

  “It will only be for less than a year, you know. After that I’ll officially be an adult, and I can pretty much move wherever I want.”

  “For what it’s worth, Millie, I hope that won’t be your choice. I hope you’ll stay with us a bit longer.”

  “Why?”

  “Why not? What else have you got to do?”

  “I… I don’t know. I never thought about it that far. After high school was done, I figured I’d get a job so that I could get my own place. You know a safe place to live in. Now that I have it… I guess you’re right. I should think about it.”

  “Well, let me give you another reason to stay, then.”

  Her eyes were wide open when I cupped her delicate face in my hands and lowered my mouth to hers. She trembled in my hold and there was nothing more that I wanted than to take those fears she’d held onto, away. I kissed her gently, tasting her lips as if they were the first ones I’d ever kissed. It felt that way, at least. They felt like the only ones that I’d want to kiss for the rest of my life. When she pulled away, she was holding her breath.

  “Breathe, Millie.”

  For someone who’d claimed she knew a lot about sex, the kiss affected her more than I would have expected. My own heart was beating out of rhythm, my palms were sweating, and my legs shook underneath me.

  “Why did you do that?” She touched her fingertips to her lips.

  “Because I like you. And I was hoping that you liked me too.”

  My father cleared his throat in the doorway. “Well, I guess this complicates things a little.”

  Millie jumped away from me. “No, please, sir. This won’t happen again. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I… I can’t lose this home. I’m so sorry.”

  “Hold on, Millie. You have nothing to be sorry for.” My father straightened his tie in the mirror. “I hope I’ve raised my son to know how to behave and respect women.”

  Yup, the guilt trip. My father was the best at it. I should have kept my hands and my mouth to myself – at least in the house where we all lived.

  “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again,” I said under my nose.

  “So, you like each other?” he asked.

  I answered a confident yes, while Millie rather nodded with fear.

  “Millie? Do you like my son?” he asked again.

  “I do, but I didn’t mean to disrespect you in your home.”

  “I was young once, you know. And while you may not believe me, I remember what it feels like to be your age. I have nothing against you two, but we’ll need to set some rules.”

  “Yes, sir.” I’d remember that day as one when I appreciated my father’s wisdom the most.

  “Like no sneaking into each other’s bedrooms.” His eyebrows rose higher as if waiting to see whether we’d tell him that we already had — which we hadn’t.

  Millie blushed and lowered her head.

  “Come on, you two. It’s a big day today. Let’s get the legalities out of the way, so that Millie can officially be part of our family. Then we can sit down and talk about what’s next.”

  “Thank you.” She smiled and then looked back at me. “For everything.”

  The look on her face that day was one of the best I’d ever seen. I actually felt weak in my knees. All I wanted was for her to feel safe. I wanted her to have a chance.

  As my father turned his back and headed toward the hallway, she punched me in my arm and hissed, “Don’t do that again.”

  “You didn’t like it?”

  “That’s not the point. I don’t want to ruin this.”

  “You won’t. You heard him.”

  “Your family has given me more in three weeks than everyone in my lifetime combined, and I’ll forever be grateful. Let’s just not complicate it, okay?”

  “As you wish.” I smiled back. “Do you think your parents will show?”

  “I doubt it.”

  Two nights ago, Millie had finally trusted me enough to tell me about the time she still lived with her real parents and it wasn’t pretty. In fact, just thinking about it broke my heart.

  “Not even your mother?” I asked. I mean, she had to care what happened to her daughter, didn’t she?

  “My mother was a druggie. I wouldn’t even expect her to remember that she had children.”

  “Millie…”

  “There’s no point sugar-coating the truth. My father was a drunk and a cheating husband who was never there. And my mother wasn’t any better. She’d have men come to our trailer all the time. Different men. They’d pay her for sex.”

  Well, I hadn’t heard that part of the story before.

  “You saw them?”

  Millie lay down on my bed and stared at the nearly invisible stars on the ceiling.

  “No. She told me to close my eyes and turn around. When it was warm outside, I stayed on the front porch until they were done. But in winter, I sat by the small kitchen table and turned away from them while the trailer shook. She moaned and he swore. It wouldn’t last long, especially when she blew them. I tried to entertain my little brother as he lay in his cardboard bassinet with paper planes made of food wrappers I found. But you know, sometimes a kid gets curious, so I might have peeked once in a while. I wish I hadn’t.”

  “That’s sick. Not you, I mean – what she did with her kids right there…”

  “It is what it is. And who the hell knows what my father did. I heard them fight. A lot. When mother was sober, she would accuse him of spreading his seed all over the city and gifting strange women her jewelry.”

  I wished I’d known her back then, so I could have taken her out of that troubled home.

  “Have you ever tried to find your brother?”

  “No way I could. He was adopted, and the papers are sealed until he’s eighteen. I’ll be twenty-nine by then. But like I said before, once I have a steady job and a nice place I can afford, I’ll try reverse adoption. He’s the only family I have left.”

  “That’s something to look forward to.”

  “It is. I keep hoping he’ll remember me, but he was just an infant so that’s wishful thinking. But it doesn’t matter. He’s the only blood relative I have left.”

  “When the time comes, I’ll help you.”

  “You think we’ll still know each other?” She narrowed her brows, and I leaned to the side, waiting for her to explain. “It’s just that not many people I run into stick around.”

  “Well, we’re not just anyone, Millie. And when we commit, we mean it. We won’t abandon you, ever.”

  “It wasn’t always that bad, you know. I mean, before we lived in the trailer, I remember going to a stream – I think I must have been two or three. I’d sit on a tire attached to a rope, my mom would push me, and I’d jump into the water where he would catch me. I don’t remember what he looked like, but he was older and gray, so it couldn’t have been my father. Maybe my grandfather? I’d like to think it was my grandfather.”

  “You should hold on to those happy memories.”

  She smiled. “Before my father came back into the picture, there was a time my mother was clean and drug-free. He wasn’t there all the time, but as soon as he’d appear, she’d start using again. I never even knew him, and I�
�ve hated him my whole life. If he’d just left us alone, maybe we would have been okay.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Thank you. I wish I could remember more, you know.”

  “How did you end up in foster care? How old were you?”

  “My parents were back together and they were fighting. I don’t even remember what it was about, I just knew that I didn’t like him with us. He slapped her, she fell back and knocked a pan full of hot oil down to the floor into a puddle of spilled beer. It lit on fire. I swear I’ve never seen flames spread so quickly. My way out of the trailer was blocked. My mother ran out. I don’t think she remembered that her kids were still there. I’m pretty sure she was high. Or maybe she didn’t want to remember? I grabbed my little brother into my arms and somehow managed to crawl out of the back window.”

  Millie touched her fingers to the silver chain she’d worn around her neck. I’d seen it before when she cleaned it. The pendant had a blue gem, about the size of a dime.

  “We barely escaped. My brother got a burn on his right shoulder. Child Protective Services came, and with a few testimonials from neighbors, that was it. The only family I’d ever known, even though broken, was torn apart. Apparently, it wasn’t the first time they’d been called, either. I didn’t cry. How can you cry for someone you didn’t know how to love?”

  “Millie, I’m so sorry.” I took her into my arms and hugged her. She felt a bit stiff at first, wary and cautious, waiting for my ulterior motive to show. But I didn’t have one. I just wanted her to know that someone cared. Maybe it was because we’d lost our mother too early. She’d given us so much love and affection, sometimes I felt like I had too much of it and Millie hadn’t gotten any. Maybe that’s why I wanted to give some of that warmth to her.

  “Is that important?” I pointed to her necklace.

  “It’s the only piece of my mother I have. She used to wear it, but only when my father was not around. The day of the fire, I was playing with it and had put it around my neck. I didn’t want my mother to know I’d touched it. She always told me not to touch it, or to show it to him when he came, so when I got out of the trailer, I stuffed it in my pocket. And I forgot about it when Child Services took us away, so I didn’t say anything to her.”