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I slumped forward and dropped my head into my hands. “Mom, I really screwed this up.”
The only sound in the room was the clink of her mug on her coaster and the swish of her clothing as she moved to my side. “Is it broken beyond repair?”
Lifting my head, I considered where we were and where we’d been. How sweetly she’d kissed me, how she’d smiled when she saw me at the salon, how even when I left, after I’d told her I hadn’t stopped loving her, she was still the Marigold I’d fallen in love with. The girl with the kind eyes and soft smile, sweet and shy on the outside, but a tiny lion inside, protective and fierce.
“No. Not if I start now.” My spine straightened and I took in a deep breath.
I knew exactly what I had to do, but I had to do it fast.
“Dad!” The back door opened, and the boys came flying in with my dad bringing up the rear.
“Where’s Mom?” Miles asked, his focus locked on my hands for some reason.
“Uh.”
Dallas cut in before I could formulate a response. “Is that a new shirt?”
I dropped my chin and took in the button-down. “No? I don’t think so.”
Dallas shrugged. “Huh, looked new.”
Hmm, okay. “Did you guys have fun?”
They nodded like bobbleheads, then told me all about how my dad had taken them to the helicopter museum and out for dinner at Geno’s Steaks.
Dallas stepped closer. “Oh, and you know that math test we were studying for the other night?”
As if I could forget. We had been up until midnight, shouting at the textbook and shedding a few tears each. I don’t care who you are, math is math. They can’t just change math.
“Yeah, bud.” I kneeled to get more on his level.
Jeez, they were getting tall. I used to have to crouch down to look them in the eye.
“Guess what I made on it?” He stuck a hand in his backpack and rifled through the chaos.
“Hmm…” I pressed my lips together and looked up at the ceiling, considering my answer. That question was a tough one. I didn’t want to go too high, because if he hadn’t done that well, he’d be hard on himself. If I chose a number too low, then he’d think I had no faith in him. And math was a challenge for Dallas, so his confidence toward it meant a lot.
Thankfully, he yanked the test, along with several other papers, from his backpack before I could screw up that answer. He held the tattered page out to me, and there at the top was a giant green number with a circle around it.
“A 97? Are you serious?” I yanked him into a hug and ran my knuckles against the top of his already messy hair.
The stack of papers in his hand jostled, and I caught a glimpse of what looked like a playbook. From soccer, maybe?
Miles yanked Dal’s arm toward him before I could get a good look, but I swore the words Mom and Dad were scrawled on it, along with all kinds of arrows. Huh.
“We have to go check on something…upstairs.” Miles stood straight as a board.
Dallas shoved all his papers back into his bag. “Yes. We do.”
No, these two were definitely acting weird.
I turned to my parents and cocked a brow, but all they gave me in return were smiles and shrugs, as if to say who knows?
“All right. Well, you guys have fun.”
They took off toward the stairs, peering over their shoulders every few steps. The whole way, Dallas was clutching his backpack for dear life.
“You too…” they said in unison.
