15. Sloane
FIFTEEN
Sloane
I pad downstairs, the cool wood welcoming my bare feet after a rushed shower.
Lennon usually sleeps late, especially after nightmares like last night's, which means I have time for coffee and maybe even a moment alone to?—
I freeze in the doorway when I hear voices. One of them is female with a lilting, Spanish inflection. Then I catch sight of Pope’s phone on the counter with FaceTime on.
Pope sits at the kitchen island, his broad back to me, gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips. Beside him, Lennon swings his legs, spoon midair over a bowl of Cheerios.
"You're a silly goose, Lennon. Go finish your breakfast, and I'll call you tonight."
"Te quiero, Tía."
"Te quiero, mijo."
Pope ends the call, and both he and Lennon turn to greet me.
My hand tugs at the hem of my tee. Perfectly decent, but suddenly too thin under Pope’s stare. Lennon’s usually still asleep at this hour, and Pope’s long gone by then. Not today.
I cross my arms over my chest.
"Morning," I manage.
Lennon's face lights up. "I had a dream about a sea turtle that could talk! He told me the secret password to get into his underwater castle."
"You must have snuck past me while I was in the shower, Buddy." I direct this to Pope, even though I'm talking to Lennon. Then, I look at Lennon. "Why are you up so early?"
"I was hungry."
"Figured I'd better find him something to eat before he started raiding the pantry and had Oreos for breakfast." Pope's voice is morning-rough.
Lennon nods solemnly. "I wanted to make pancakes, but he said no fire stuff."
I ruffle his dark curls and drop a kiss on his head. "That was probably the right move."
"Can we pretty please go walk on the beach? Micah says you can find the best shells early."
That must be the motivation here. Early shell-hunting.
"Let me get some coffee in me, and then we can go."
"I don't have a meeting until 8:30. I could take you, Len. Want to go now?"
"Yeah!" He's out of his seat faster than I can react. Pope is offering to take Lennon on a walk? Okay. I can't keep up with all of these changes.
I laugh, the sound bursting out unexpectedly. Pope looks up, coffee mug halfway to his mouth, and something electric passes between us.
He chokes mid-sip, coughing into his arm while Lennon dissolves into giggles.
"You okay, there?" I pat his back, feeling the solid warmth of ripples through thin cotton.
Pope nods, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "Wrong pipe."
This isn't what I signed up for: these moments that feel like family, the way Pope's unshaven jaw softens his usual sharp edges, how his forearms flex as he rinses his mug. It's too easy to let my mind go to places it has no place going.
Lennon interrupts my thoughts. "Let's go, Pope."
Pope clears his throat, seemingly better although still coughing a little. “Alright. Let’s go find some shells.”
"I'm going to play at Micha's house today. I can't wait to show him what I find."
"Excellent memory. Yes, I will drop you off at eleven and then you'll ride with Micah to Seabreeze for the afternoon."
"Yay," Lennon declares as the two of them disappear out of the back door toward the beach.
I watch them in awe, worried about all of the feelings that are bubbling up inside of me.
This was easier when I thought Pope was a grumpy asshole who never took an interest in his son. Seeing this side of him has suddenly turned this into a whole other thing.
The Florida sun beats against the windshield, turning the car into a greenhouse. I turned the car on to cool it down while I get Lennon strapped in.
I adjust the vents to blast cooler air toward the back, where Lennon squirms in his booster seat.
"Hold still, buddy." I tug the straps across his chest, clicking the buckle into place. "We've got everything? Water bottle? Sunscreen?"
It's more a question to myself, not him, but he nods. His small fingers are already digging through his shark-patterned backpack. "And I got my necklace to show Micah." He pulls out the black charm from under his shirt and kisses it.
"Will you tell me about that necklace? Camila told me it was your special necklace.”
"Yep! My mom wore it every day. It's called a mano de azabache. It protects me from the evil eye." His eyes shine with the memory, and something catches in my throat.
I zip his backpack closed. "Bet Micah is going to love that."
Lennon erupts in giggles, the sound filling the car with a lightness that wasn't there just days ago. "Can you come in to see the turtle tank when you pick me up? They got two new babies!"
"I'd love to see that,” I tap his knee.
"Even the gross stuff?"
"Especially the gross stuff."
His face splits into a wide grin, revealing the gap where his front tooth is growing in.
When I climb into the driver's seat, I catch his reflection in the rearview mirror.
His cheeks are flushed, and his dark hair sticks out wildly from under his Seabreeze cap, practically vibrating with excitement.
My throat tightens. This is the kid I hoped was hiding under all those layers of grief when we first met. This is what healing looks like, happening right before my eyes. And quicker than I imagined it would happen.
Before backing out of the driveway, I grab my phone. Still nothing from Maris. I type another quick text.
girl, where are you? I texted you earlier and crickets. I need to talk to you. dropping Lennon off now. call me!
I hit send, switch to my Waze app, and exhale. Whatever advice Maris will give me, which will probably involve words like "boundaries" and "professional ethics," will have to wait another twenty minutes.
Lennon hums to himself in the backseat, swinging his legs in time to a song only he can hear. I steal another glance at him in the mirror and smile to myself.
After a surprisingly short drive, I turn down the last street leading to Micah’s house, courtesy of my friend, Waze.
I park in front of the house, a sprawling Mediterranean with terracotta roof tiles and elegant palms framing the driveway. My phone vibrates against the center console, and Maris's name finally lights up the screen.
"About time!" I answer, then spot Micah and his mom standing at the front door, waving. "I can't talk yet, hang tight. I'll call you back in five."
Maris's tone is warm but clipped. "You've got exactly thirty minutes for my break, then I'm back to rounds until two. So call me back!"
"Promise I'll be quick." I hang up and hop out to help Lennon with his things.
Micah bounds down the front steps, his blonde hair bouncing with each step. "Lennon! I got a new dinosaur puzzle. It glows in the dark!"
Lennon's entire face lights up as he scrambles out of his seat.
“Morning, Sloane.” Micah’s mom, Angela, waves from the doorway, balancing a baby on one hip.
She’s in Birkenstocks, a long skirt swishing around her legs, and a white tank top smudged with something that looks like oatmeal.
Her hair’s pulled back in a short ponytail, and somehow she still looks like the woman who can do it all.
“Hey, you. Thank you so much for inviting Lennon over. He’s been practically vibrating with excitement since yesterday.”
"We're so excited to have him over."
I guide Lennon toward the door, his backpack slung over my shoulder. “He should be all set when y’all head to Seabreeze. He’s got his water and a snack in his backpack.”
While the boys rush inside, already deep in conversation about glow-in-the-dark dinosaurs, I set the bookbag down on the front stoop.
“Nanny extraordinaire.”
“Not quite. I’m learning as I go. This is so good for him. I can't even tell you how much it means," I admit, nodding toward Lennon's retreating form.
Angela squeezes my arm. "Of course. It's good for Micah, too. My husband will drop them at Seabreeze in an hour and a half."
"I want to set up a time for us to chat about the homeschooling schedule you use, too. I plan to start doing that with Lennon next week, and I'd love to pick your brain. This is new territory for me, too.”
"Happy to share. And we can set up homeschool field trips with the boys to museums and parks. Micah will love it."
“Fantastic. Thanks again, Angela.”
The Florida heat slaps me as I walk back to the SUV. I dig out my phone before I reach the car, already dialing. Maris picks up on the second ring.
“Finally,” she says, slightly breathlessly answering my call. In the background, I hear a muffled announcement over a loudspeaker. “I’ve only got a few minutes. What’s going on?”
“I know. I’m sorry. I’ve been dying to talk to you. Pope took Lennon for a walk this morning on the beach, so I needed to get you while they were gone.”
I turn the AC up a notch.
“Pope took Lennon on a walk? By himself? My, how things have progressed so quickly. Mr. Aloof is now the half-brother of the year.”
"Yep. And that's not all that's changed."
“Oh, really?”
“Nothing happened. Yet, anyway. But, there's some definite sexual tension going on between us, and I don't know how to handle it.”
She is quiet for a beat. “I'm going to need more details here, sister.”
“Lennon cried in the night, so I went in to comfort him. When I came out of his room to walk back to mine, Pope and I brushed by each other."
"Okay, that isn't sex. You're safe."
I smirk, pressing further as I buckle my seatbelt. "He didn't have his shirt on and I nearly drooled on him as we both paused for a few seconds. His carved chest. The veins. I forgot how ridiculously sexy he is."
Maris actually sputters, and I laugh so hard I have to cover my mouth. But she pulls herself together, her reserved tone snapping back. "Do not sleep with this man again, Sloane. You can't."
"I won't," I promise, but my voice falters, and I'm wondering if I'm strong enough to hold that line if he pushes it.
"It's just, he's somehow gotten hotter. Responsible, protective, all of it on top of his ridiculous body.
He's doing all of this for Lennon, shielding him, caring for him. Not to mention, we have that history."