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Turned over my shoulder, still making plans, I pushed the door to the guest bedroom open and slapped the wall, searching for the light switch. “That sounds good. Adam will help for sure—”
When the light clicked on and I spun back to the room, Miles and Dallas were sprawled out on the floor beside the bed, both slack-jawed and donning headphones while staring at their iPad, where Spiderman was swinging from building to building. Around them, a multitude of snacks were scattered.
My heart stuttered at the sight. They were safe. They’d been here the whole time. They were going to be in so. Much. Trouble.
They squinted up at us, blinking at the bright light. Beside me, Marigold sank to her knees, head in her hands and shoulders shaking. I had always been the calm one in an emergency, the level-headed leader. So if I was on the verge of a breakdown, I couldn’t imagine the fear that had been coursing through her. Knowing her, she’d already assumed the worst, even if she hadn’t voiced it. To go from that to seeing her sons happy and healthy and flopped on the floor, watching a movie as if our world wasn’t crumbling down around us, was overwhelming.
I tipped forward and placed a hand on her shoulder. “It’s all right, Goldie.” I brought my lips close to her ear and rubbed slow circles on her back. She shuddered below me as she attempted shaky breaths.
When Miles sat up and asked what was wrong, I ignored the question. There was no way they didn’t know we were looking for them. It didn’t matter how loud they had the volume turned up. They would have heard my parents shouting their names, headphones or not.
Jaw clenched tight, I finally looked up at them. Both boys wore guilty expressions, mouths turned down and regret swimming in their eyes.
“Do you know how much you scared your mom? She almost had a heart attack.” I couldn’t regulate my volume or the harsh tone.
I was so angry. I wanted to hug them.
Neither answered right away. Dallas picked at the carpet below him, and Miles dropped his chin and wrung his hands in his lap.
“Apologize,” I ordered.
Dallas sat up a little straighter. “We were just—”
“Apologize.”
Both boys lowered their heads, shoulders drooping. “Sorry, Mom.” In synchronized movements, they stood and shuffled over to us. Miles threw his arms around his mom, and Dallas turned to me.
With his head tilted back and tears in his eyes, he whispered, “I didn’t mean to hurt Mom’s feelings.”
I crouched low and wrapped my arms around him, soaking him in, so thankful he was safe. Seeing wasn’t enough sometimes. A shiver racked through me, and I sucked in a breath to hold back my own tears. “I know, bud.”
Beside me, Marigold was squeezing Miles with all her might, but her eyes were on mine.
Did she still feel warmth where our hands connected the way I did? I flexed my fist.
She pulled back, wiping at her tears, then doing the same to Miles. “No more scaring us like that. Ever again. Do you understand?”
“Uncle Crew goes missing a lot.”
“No more hanging around Uncle Crew,” I said.
Marigold shot me a ghost of a grin.
I pulled myself up straight again. “Now go downstairs so you can tell your grandparents you’re very, very sorry.”
They tore out of the room, and I helped Marigold to her feet. “How long are they grounded for?”
Without skipping a beat, she said, “Till they’re thirty.” She swiped at a rogue tear and pressed her hand to her chest. “Or till my heart rate goes back to normal. Whichever comes first.”
I blew out a laugh. “Sounds good to me.”
She turned then, her chest brushing mine. I hadn’t realized how close we were. The slight movement had that heat from earlier curling inside me again, warming my chest.
She sucked in a breath, but she didn’t back up. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Keeping me calm. Or trying to, at least.”
