Page 161 of When Love Takes Root

Her brows lifted. “You?”

“I’m about to have dinner with five children who love you and at least one who looks like he can subpoena my intentions.”

Her smile broke through. “Kayden is intense.”

“He loves you.”

“He does.”

I looked toward him. He was pretending the phone needed his full attention. “He’s trying to be useful in a place pain made him feel helpless.” Celeste’s smile trembled at the edges. I kept my voice gentle. “I’m not offended by that.”

“Thank you.”

“I’d be more concerned if he didn’t care.” Her eyes softened with gratitude she did not have to explain. “I’ll follow you.”

Celeste nodded.

I opened the driver’s door of her SUV first, then helped Skye with her seat belt when she started fighting the strap like it owed her money. Zuri asked if I knew how to braid hair. Maya asked if I knew any good mural artists. JJ asked whether I’d ever considered engineering school. Kayden said nothing, but when Celeste got behind the wheel, he checked to make sure I closed her door right.

I did.

Then I looked at him over the roof of the SUV.

He looked back.

No smile.

No speech.

Just a small nod.

It was not much.

It was enough.

I walked to my truck.

As I pulled behind them, Celeste’s brake lights glowing red in front of me, I sat for a moment with both hands on the wheel.

Roots didn’t always announce themselves when they entered the soil. Sometimes they moved beneath the surface first, stretching through dark places, searching for water, holding on before anybody saw green.

I looked at Celeste’s SUV, at Kayden’s silhouette in the back seat, at Skye turning around to wave through the rear window.

I lifted my hand and waved back.

Then I put the truck in drive and followed them home.

Thursday Evening

By the time I pulled into my driveway, my hands ached from gripping the steering wheel.

Josiah’s truck eased against the curb behind me, his headlights washing over my garage before he cut the engine. He stayed inside for a moment with one hand on the wheel, his head turned toward my SUV, waiting instead of rushing. No eager leap from the driver’s seat. No overfamiliar stroll toward my porch like an invitation had given him ownership of anything. He gave me room to gather myself, which should’ve soothed my nerves.

It didn’t.

Skye unbuckled before I could fuss, Zuri leaned toward the window and studied my hibiscus plant like it needed a government name, Maya had one earbud in as if I hadn’t given birth to both of her ears, and Kayden hadn’t said a word since we left the salon. His silence sat behind me with crossed arms and a hard jaw, wearing my baby’s face while grief cleared its throat through him.

JJ pulled into the driveway a few seconds later and parked beside the garage. He climbed out with his keys in one hand and his backpack hanging from one shoulder, grown enough to move like he had bills but young enough to search my face before looking anywhere else. Every time I saw him that way, broad-shouldered and responsible, my chest lifted and pinched at once. My first baby was a man now. Sweet when he wanted to be. Sarcastic when his siblings earned it. But sometimes, when the evening light touched his profile just right, I saw the little boy who used to fall asleep against my leg while Jamal watched SportsCenter too loud.