Chapter Thirty-Nine Maren
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Maren
Good morning.
Take it easy today.
The coolest biker in the world loves you.
Ozzy x
I grin at the note Ozzy scrawled on the inside of my bedroom door with a permanent marker. He knows stage two of the renovation will be upstairs, including new doors. However, now I will have to keep this door because it’s where he’s written his first official love note to me.
“There’s our favorite girl,” Dad says after I gingerly make my way to the kitchen, where my parents are making breakfast and coffee.
“The bar has been set low,” I say as my mom kisses me on the cheek.
“Speaking of setting the bar low,” she says. “Did a boy crawl in through your window last night?” She smirks, handing me a cup of coffee to carry to my sofa.
“A boy ? What am I? Fourteen?”
“Well, only teenagers would crawl in and out of windows,” she says, cracking eggs into a bowl. If she only knew that sneaking around and crawling in and out of windows are our thing—a Maren-and-Ozzy thing.
“He was so quiet. How did you know?”
My parents laugh. “We are all knowing,” Mom says. “If you’re ever a parent, you’ll have this superpower too.”
I hum and nod.
“Speaking of parents and kids, Lola seems pretty taken with you.” My mom eyes me over her shoulder while whisking the eggs.
“I love Lola.”
“Like you love carrot cake?” she asks, returning her attention to the stove.
“Like I’d love my own child.”
Both my parents whip their heads in my direction.
“Are you ready for this?” Mom asks.
I laugh. “Loving Lola?”
“You nearly died because of your job. Is it fair to that young girl for you to be the woman in her life who loves her like a mother after her mother died in a car accident?”
“It will make her more resilient,” Dad says, cubing the last mango.
“Aaron!” Mom punches his arm. “That’s a terrible thing to say. When children lose their parents, it doesn’t toughen them up like letting them fall off their bikes and scrape their knees.”
“What if I don’t die?” I say, bringing their attention back to me. “What if I do my job, and it doesn’t kill me? What if I live for a century and die of old age? Because that’s a possibility, too, right?”
Mom focuses on the eggs in the frying pan, slowly stirring them. “You’re right.”
I cup my hand at my ear. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“If you didn’t hear it the first time, too bad. I’m not repeating it.”
I laugh. “You said I’m right. Has hell frozen over? Are pigs flying?”
“Have you shown Ozzy this charming side of you?” Mom carries a plate of eggs and fruit to me.
“Ozzy has seen all of my sides,” I say with an ornery grin.
“That is an example of something your parents don’t want to know.” She frowns, setting the plate on my wooden lap desk.
“Thank you,” I say just as the doorbell rings. “Jamie’s early.”
“She is. I’ll make more eggs,” Mom says on her way to the door.
“Trust me, Jamie’s already been up for three hours baking muffins, hiking, and cleaning her house.” I laugh.
“It’s not Jamie,” Mom murmurs while unlocking the storm door.
“Who is—” I start to speak when Lola steps into the entry and removes her bike helmet and shoes.
“Good morning.” She shrugs off her backpack and pulls out a white sack. “I brought doughnuts.”
I peek over my shoulder out the front window. “Hey, Lola. Did your dad take the day off?” I search for him, but I only see her bike.
“No. He’s working.”
“We have eggs and fruit. Would you like some?” Mom asks Lola.
“Lola, who came here with you?” I inspect her as she roams to the kitchen.
“Uh, I came by myself. It’s fine.” She sets the bag on the counter as my mom spoons eggs and fruit onto a plate. “My dad’s at work, and my grandparents think I’m playing the new VR I got. So I can’t stay long, but I wanted to bring you doughnuts.” She hands me a jelly-filled one.
I set it on my plate, returning a nervous smile. “This is nice of you, but nobody knows where you are, and you don’t have permission to ride to my house. If your grandparents look for you and can’t find you, they’ll be worried sick.”
“Trust me. It’s fine.” She climbs onto the stool at the counter where my mom sets her plate of food.
Mom smiles at Lola before padding toward me with wide eyes and a stiff smile. “Do you need me to get your phone so you can text someone?” she asks under her breath.
“Yes. Thanks. It’s on my dresser.”
“What grade will you be in, Lola?” Dad asks.
“Fifth,” Lola mumbles after taking a bite of her doughnut.
“What’s VR?” He narrows his eyes at her.
Lola giggles at my dad’s question. “It’s virtual reality. It’s a headset I wear, and things look real. It’s so cool. It was Maren’s idea.”
Dad shoots me a look.
“It’s to simulate being in a car again. How’s that working for you, Lola?”
“It’s fun. But I know it’s not real.”
Mom returns with my phone.
“You’re not calling my dad, are you?” Lola doesn’t miss a thing.
“Lola, I need to let him know where you are.”
“You can’t. He’ll be mad. And I’m fine. I wore my helmet. I looked both ways when crossing streets. And I didn’t talk to strangers.”
“You stopped for doughnuts,” I say with a frown.
“That’s different. The people who work there have seen me a lot, so they’re not real strangers.”
“What if I let your dad know you’re here and ask him if it’s okay for you to stay until he gets off work?”
She licks the frosting off her lips before twisting them. “Hmm, then he’ll know I rode my bike here. But I think it would be fun to stay today.” She shakes her head. “No. I can’t risk him finding out.”
My parents eye me while standing at the counter, eating their breakfast.
Maren: Thank you for the love note. I’m never replacing the door
It takes a few minutes for Ozzy to reply.
Ozzy: How are you feeling?
Maren: Conflicted
Ozzy: ?
Maren: Someone rode her bike to my house but she doesn’t want me to tell on her. So I’m conflicted
Ozzy: WTF? Why would they let her do that? I have to call them
Maren: If you’re talking about her grandparents, they don’t know
Ozzy: I’m going to kill her
Maren: What if you don’t? What if you let her stay here for the day and stop by to get her after work?
Ozzy: I’m so sorry
Maren: Don’t be. I’m looking forward to spending the day with her
Ozzy sends me the unamused emoji.
I send him the kiss emoji.
“You need groceries. Will you be okay if your dad and I go shopping for you?” Mom asks.
“I can watch her,” Lola says like such a grown-up.
My parents have to suppress their snickering.
“That would be great,” I say. It would give me some time alone with Lola.
Maren: Don’t forget to tell her grandparents
Ozzy: I just did. Thx
When my parents leave, Lola sits beside me on the sofa, playing with Bandit. “I should get home.”
“Actually, you’re spending the day with me,” I say.
Lola freezes, except for her eyes, which shift her gaze to me. “You told him?”
“I had to, because it’s more important that he and your grandparents know you’re safe than it is for you not to get into trouble.”
“Did you at least tell him not to ground me?”
“I didn’t, but if you help out today, I’ll put in a good word for you when he gets here after work.”
“Are you going to fly again?” She changes the subject so quickly that it takes my brain a few seconds to catch up.
“I’m planning on it.”
Lola drops her chin and traces the stripes on Bandit’s back. “Aren’t you afraid of crashing again?”
“Sure. I always have a tiny fear, but I love my job. I love flying.”
“Aren’t you afraid of dying?” she murmurs.
“I don’t want to die. Not yet, anyway. But I’m not afraid of it. However, there is nothing wrong with being afraid of dying. It’s a normal human fear. And honestly, there are a lot of pilots who don’t get back in a plane if it goes down, and they live to tell about it.”
“Like me not riding in cars anymore?”
“Yes. Like that.” I put my good arm around her. “But I think you will ride in cars again.”
“You do?”
I rest the side of my head on top of hers. “Yes. The car accident sent you on a detour. And that’s okay. I can only imagine losing your mom at such a young age has left you feeling scared. But I see who you really are—a brave and strong girl. And I know , without a doubt, that one day you will be too big for Missoula. Your wings will spread, and your heart will need to soar. And this fear you have now will be too weak for your need to really live life.”
Lola lifts her gaze with a glimmer of hope in her eyes. “Do you think I’ll be able to fly like you?”
If there was any doubt that I’d fly again, it’s officially gone. Lola’s looking at me like I’m a prophet of her future. I want to fill every inch of her with hope. If I can inspire her to dream without limits, I’ll happily take any risk to make that happen.
“You know what would be cool?”
“What?” Her eyes get nearly as big as her smile.
“If someday, you, me, and your dad flew somewhere special. Just the three of us.”
She bites her lower lip, and I see the worry winning. It’s heartbreaking.
“Not today. When you’re ready, and you will be. We need to decide where we’re going to celebrate when that day comes because you, my dear”—I playfully grab her chin—“are a caterpillar shedding your skin, growing and growing, and one day you’re going to be—”
“A butterfly.” Her whole face lights up.
I fight the burning emotion in my eyes. “A beautiful butterfly.”