For Fox Sake

Chapter 23

Jake

It’s a beautiful summer day in June. It isn’t too hot or too cold. The air is fresh and clean, like sunshine and dirt and growing things. The wind whispers through the leaves in the trees overhead.

And I’m surrounded by twenty middle schoolers and freaking depressed as hell.

We’re gathered along a hiking trail. Atticus is up at the front of the group, explaining some kind of creepy-looking mushroom thing to the kids, while Archer and I bring up the rear.

Moving usually helps with depression, something I learned from my sobriety journey. Just keep moving your body. Get the blood flowing. It makes a difference. Not today.

Atticus drones on and on. Damn, he loves his mushrooms.

The kid in front of us shifts, bumping into his companion, who turns and shoves him back.

“Hey.” The mere sound of Archer’s deep baritone is enough to make them stiffen and apologize.

It probably helps that he’s six foot five and built like a damn mountain.

I sigh.

Is Atticus seriously still talking about mushrooms?

He must sense the crowd getting restless because he finally stops jabbering on about fungi and we keep moving.

“How are Ryan and Ari?” Archer asks.

I shrug my backpack up higher. “They’re good.”

“How are you?”

I breathe in some fresh air. It’s not helping. “I don’t know, man. It’s hard. I miss them. I know I’ve only known them for a few weeks. Is that weird?”

He jumps over a log in the path. “Nah. I knew the first time I saw your sister that she would be important to me.”

“Really?”

The path narrows. He steps ahead of me, talking over his shoulder. “Yep. You were throwing up in Veronica’s parking lot and she was trying to carry you while being honked at and laughing her ass off.”

I grimace. “Not my finest hour.”

I don’t even remember it. The things I put Finley through. I’m lucky she didn’t kick my ass or kick me out of our house completely. She would have been well within her rights. I would have deserved it.

Archer comes to an abrupt halt, spinning around to face me. “Hey. You’ve been through hell, and you came through like a fucking champion.” He puts a hand on my shoulder. “I am proud of you.”

I swallow back a lump forming in my throat. Damn, I’m emotional today. Lack of sleep.

“Thanks, man. Having you and Finley in my corner, it changed my life.”

He slaps me on the back a couple of times and then turns around and keeps walking.

We pick up speed to catch up with the slower-moving group.

After a few minutes of walking, I tell him, “You were right, you know.”

“About what?”

“What you said in the hospital when you and Finely first got together.”

He turns his head to talk over his shoulder. “What words of wisdom did I impart to you? I honestly don’t remember.”

“You said grief is the price we pay for love and given the choice between grief and nothing, you’d choose grief every time.”

“Huh. I sure am smart.”

I chuckle. “Yeah, smart-ass. But... it’s why I might have to move.”

He stops again, turning and facing me. “You’ll move there?”

“If she won’t move here. I’ve been looking at real estate nearby. If I’m going to convince her to move in with me, I want to have some kind of plan. A place of our own. I’m going to head out to visit this weekend instead of in two weeks like we planned.” I also want to bring Shirley back to Ari. I found the toy the day after they left. The rabbit was tucked up in between the wall and the mattress of the bottom bunk bed. “I want to surprise her and Ari and try to convince her to move. If that doesn’t work...” I shrug. I have to do it. I would move mountains for my girls.

He twists his lips. “I don’t like it, but I get it.”

“She’s worth it.”

“I’m glad. And you know Finley will just commandeer Oliver’s jet every other day if she wants to see you. But for what it’s worth, I’m really hoping you can convince her to come here.”

“Me too.”

* * *

I practice various speeches the entire flight into Portland. I make a whole list of reasons New York is better than Oregon. I search for quotes about journeys and new beginnings and... love.

I haven’t told Ryan I love her, but I do. I love her and Ari. I need to tell her. Them. Will it be enough?

What if she doesn’t want to move to New York and also doesn’t want me to move to Dull?

I know she cares about me but... what if she’s changed her mind?

By the time I get off the plane and into the rental car, I’m nearly bursting with anticipation and anxiety.

I texted Ryan this morning to find out what their schedule would be like today so I could show up when they got home from all their activities and obligations. It works out, because even leaving New York in the morning, because of the time change, I don’t arrive until midafternoon, then I have to drive two hours to Dull.

By the time I get there, it’s near dinner time.

Ari is in front of their house, drawing on the sidewalk.

She looks up when I pass by, and when she spots me behind the wheel, she drops her chalk and jumps to her feet waving and yelling.

There must be a renter in my old place, because there isn’t any parking on the cul-de-sac.

I drive to the end and flip around. I’ll have to park somewhere on the cross street. I stop by Ari and roll down the window. “Hey, there superhero.”

“Jake, you’re here!” She’s hopping up and down with excitement, chalk all over her clothes, her hair in wild disarray.

Lightness fills me, a sense of buoyancy chasing out the gloom of the past week.

“I’ve got to find a place to park the car. I’ll be right back, okay?”

She nods, still jumping around.

Chuckling, I drive forward and halt at the stop sign, waiting for a few cars to pass, before pulling out onto the street and spotting a space halfway down the block.

I’m grabbing my overnight bag and Shirley from the trunk when Ari’s voice reaches me over the hum of traffic.

I glance in her direction. She’s on her scooter, racing down the sidewalk.

Frowning, I shut the trunk. What is she doing?

She hops the curb, riding into the road without looking.

Alarm shoots through me. I check the street, my blood turning into ice. A car is barreling toward her, a small black sedan.

Do they see her?

Fear clutches me in a tight grip, the air whooshing out of my lungs. No. They aren’t slowing down.

“Ari!” I drop my bag and sprint.

Time is the enemy. It kicks into overdrive. My ears ring. I can’t force my legs hard enough or fast enough. She’s so close, but too far away. With barely a second to spare, I shove her out of the way.

Did I push too hard? Is she okay?

A flash of white-hot pain collides with my ribs, the blunt force ricocheting through my whole body, followed by pitch black.