Page 38 of Summer Holiday Lifeline

CHAPTER NINE

“I appreciate what you did for me last night. Riding to the rescue of a complete stranger. That was kind.” Steven set a mug on the coffee table in front of Myles, then sank into the couch across from him, tucking a foot under him and wrapping both hands around his own gigantic mug.

Just around one of the stacks, they could hear Jet reading to Shelly in a quiet voice, changing cadence and tone with each character. Occasionally, Shelly would ask for a crayon she couldn’t reach, or for Jet to repeat a section.

“He’s very good with her,” Steven observed.

“He is.” Myles refrained from adding when he feels like it, because to be fair, Jet hadn’t once shrugged his sister off since they’d arrived.

“One of the moms who comes in regularly for a book club told me the Y has a half day, two days a week art thing for kids her age. Apparently it’s how she gets anything done during the summer.”

“We can manage.”

“But you don’t have to, I think is the point,” Steven said. “Looking after a kid twenty-four seven is hard. I know. Steph and I had each other. I can’t imagine doing it alone.”

“She needs me.”

Steven set his mug down on the table as he leaned forward. “You need you too, though. If losing our parents like we did taught Steph and me anything, it’s that sometimes, you have to take a break for your own sanity.”

“Their mom’s only been gone a few months.”

“No dad?”

Myles shrugged. “All the legal stuff says they signed away parental rights and all contact except for dire medical emergencies.”

“So, if they need a kidney, you’re golden, but day-to-day dad stuff, you’re on your own.”

“So was Nat. She preferred it that way. I honestly don’t know much about either of the men. Knew Jet’s dad when we were younger, but wasn’t a fan. I was pretty much out of the picture when he and Nat got together, but it didn’t last long. When she took in my sorry ass, Shelly’s dad had been and gone already too, and I didn’t feel like I had a right to pry. Then it was too late to find out. The lawyer sent them both notice that she’d died and appointed me guardian. Neither of them responded.”

Steven sighed and settled back. “Drink your coffee. Relax. For right now, they’re fine.”

Myles smiled thinly and sipped his drink.

The shop fell quiet except for Jet’s voice as he read. Myles took a moment to really look around. The wooden shelves filled with books held a strange kind of comfort, homey and relaxed. Maybe the odd choices of bookends on a lot of the shelves helped with that relaxed atmosphere.

A stuffed fish held up a row of books on fishing with its tail, while an old-fashioned iron propped up books on sewing. He could appreciate the attention to detail and the time it took to find just the right themed items to serve the purpose.

Some things he didn’t get, like a glass jar of small metallic and coloured items—washers, nuts, buttons and paperclips—at the end of the shelf filled with books about birds. Maybe Steven hadn’t found just the right item to replace it with and had filled the jar with things to make it heavy enough to do its job and still be visually interesting.

“I have an idea.” Getting up, Steven took his mug in one hand and scooped up MJ, who had settled into his comfy chair with him, in the other. “Come on. You’re going to take this mutt for a walk.”

“I shouldn’t just leave them.”

“Jet is perfectly capable of looking after his little sister for fifteen minutes, and I’ll be here. It’s the least I can do to repay you for coming to my rescue last night.”

“I should ask him.” Myles got up and turned to find Jet leaning on the end of the stack.

“Go,” Jet muttered. “We’ll be fine.”

“Do you want to come?”

“Just go.” He conceded with all the eye roll and slouch he’d likely been storing up since the night before.

“You’re sure?”

“You want to make it up to me, you can buy me an LP of my choice.” His gaze wandered to the bins of records standing near the back of the room.

“Within reason,” Myles warned.