Page 45 of What Maple Heard

I looked at the three books, and for a second, the whole world froze around me. The Teenage Brain: A Parent’s Guide to Understanding Your Teenager, How to Be a Father Figure: Building Trust with Teens. And the third one— Parenting a Child Who Isn’t Yours: What Every Caring Adult Should Know.

Cade eyes were locked on mine from the other end of the car. He held out his hand and I handed over the books to him. His face, which had been relaxed and happy two seconds ago, was now the color of a tomato.

“When did you get these?” I asked, no longer able to control my curiosity.

He turned even pinkier but kept his eyes locked on mine. “Same day as the fall party,” he said. “At my house.”

I stood still for a minute. He had bought these books on the same day he would later tell Kyle that I was good under the sheets and that’s where I belonged? That made no sense.

I buckled the kids as well as I could in Cade’s car. As I drove mine to the ice cream place with four children in the back seat, my mind kept circling back to the books. I decided to think about it later and just enjoy the moment with the kids. I wanted to make the outing about them, not about me and my relationship. Or the lack of it.

Cade kept giving me the same look as in the car as we ordered our ice-creams, and as we all enjoyed our ice creams under the cool autumn sky. Cade played a game asking every child what their favorite thing about participating in the fall festival was, and we all laughed when Devon said your tutu skirt.

After the ice cream, we waited outside until David, the foster home coordinator arrived to pick up the kids. Nancy said goodbye and got in her car. And then it was just me and Cade on the sidewalk under the late evening sky.

He walked me to my car and opened the door for me. “Thank you,” he said. “For tonight. For — all of it.” He looked at me. “Drive safe, Maple.”

He closed the door, and I started the car.

In the rearview mirror, I could see him standing on the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, watching me drive away. As I turned the curve I saw him still standing there, looking in my direction.

And then he disappeared. I drove home with the heat on and the radio off.

Which one of the two Cades was real?

I was beginning to think I might be edging toward the answer.

***

Chapter 14

Cade

Are you coming home for dinner tomorrow? I’ll make lamb.

I looked at the text from Mom. This was not good. Firstly, because she cooked only on Thanksgiving and Christmas, and secondly because she made lamb on very special occasions.

She wanted to talk. The dreadful kind of talk. Maybe I could get a better idea about her intentions before I went to get butchered there.

Sure, Mom. Is everything okay?

Three small dots appeared on the screen. Then disappeared. I sat with bated breath, bracing for whatever my dearest Mother was re-writing to throw at me.

Yeah, everything is fine. You haven’t been home in a long time. Your father misses you.

Oh no. She was mad. And she was going to kill me with the jagged edge of a lamb shank.

By the time I pulled into their driveway the next day, I had prepared the confrontation speech many times over. I was ready to face whatever my parents threw at me over the dinner table. For the first time in my life, things were so crystal clear to me. I closed my eyes and saw Maple’s beautiful face, the way she had looked at me that night at the ice cream place, the way her eyes had glimmered with surprise when she saw the three books in my car. Was it hope that I saw in her eyes that night? That little sliver of positivity that I saw in her that night was enough for me to keep going.

That was all I needed.

Mom opened the door before I could ring the bell. She was smiling, but her eyes were scanning my face just like she’d do when I would be caught lying as a child. “Cade.” She hugged me. The hug was warm and robot-like at the same time. As she pulled back from me, I held out the bouquet of her favorite pink roses I had brought.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Thank you, dear. How have you been?” She took the bouquet and instinctively smelled the flowers. “You don’t come home anymore. I was expecting you after we got back from the trip.”

“I’ve been busy.”