Page 114 of Made for Mayhem

My heart dropped. “Not in a million years. She just needs to ask me something.”

Junie sank back onto the blanket with her animal entourage, and I refilled her lemonade, then followed Sandra just far enough away to give us a sliver of privacy.

“She’s doing so well,” Sandra murmured. “I can see it.”

“She’s trying,” I said quietly. “We all are.”

Sandra nodded toward the house, then looked back at me. “Have you given any more thought to whether you plan to stay in Linwood? Or if you’re returning to Chicago at the end of the six weeks?”

My breath caught, having avoided this thought for weeks. “I… I don’t know yet.”

Sandra nodded. “If you decide to return to Chicago, the courts would support full guardianship in your favor once probate clears. You’re her next of kin, and the will names you. It wouldn’t be a fight to get you primary custody.”

My chest tightened at the idea of taking her from Ty. Of leaving this place.

“But they’ll also consider her adjustment here,” she added. “How she’s healing. How bonded she is to Ty. Stability matters as much as biology.”

I looked back at Junie, at the house behind her, at the lopsided flower crowns sitting in the grass.

“I don’t want to uproot her again,” I whispered.

Sandra’s eyes softened. “Then you’re thinking about the right things.”

She gave my arm a gentle squeeze and walked back toward her SUV. Junie scrambled up the moment the driver door shut.

“Is everything okay?” she asked, worry wrinkling her forehead.

I knelt and pulled her in for a hug. “Everything’s okay, cutie. Promise.”

Sandra backed down the drive, giving us one last wave through the window. When the dust settled again, Junie tugged my hand.

“Should we paint the front door too?”

“Yeah,” I said, my throat thick. “Let’s do it.”

She grabbed a can of purple paint from inside, and we settled on the porch. The sun was warm on our backs, the river humming next to us, the pots gleaming bright on the porch—a little imperfect, a little new, just like everything else still trying to find a place in this new reality.

I watched Junie drag the brush in careful, perfect stripes, and I knew that this valley, this ranch, this life was where Junie belonged.

I also knew we were standing in the calm, and that the day grief pulled us both under was still waiting its turn.

26

The chill in the Linwood Rink had that sharp, clean bite that woke a man up better than coffee. I leaned on the boards, whistle dangling from my neck, and watched the Mayhem fly through a two-on-two breakout drill. Skates carved the fresh sheet, pucks clacking off sticks, the echo bouncing off the rafters like gunfire. Off-season, sure, but these kids were hungry for another state championship, and it showed.

Beckett dropped next to me, elbows on knees. “Watch Molly go against Smash here. She’s unreal.”

On the ice, Molly’s dark braid whipped like a battle flag as she spun past Delgado, who was yelling something about respecting her elders. She flipped him the bird without looking back.

Jace accepted a pass from Molly, then flicked a wrist shot at the goal. Miles snagged it with a glove save that there was no chance he would have made this time last year.

“Nice save, Pickles.” I clapped my hands together, then let out a whistle. “That’s what I like to see.”

Beckett nudged me. “You’re chipper today. What’s with you?”

“Just watching my back-to-back state champs.”

“Bullshit.” He took a swig of water. “You were humming earlier. And don’t think the whole town missed you sucking face with Daisy last night.”