Chapter 22
Jasper
“Why is he taking so long?”
Arlo’s been tapping his foot against the carpeted floor of the waiting area for the last—I glance down at my phone—six minutes.
“It’s only been six minutes, baby boy,” I say softly.
Nora is sitting beside Arlo on the couch, her head resting against his shoulder. The time has flown by for me. Mostly because I’ve been staring at the two of them. It feels kind of like a blink-and-you-miss-it type of moment.
If I look away, it’s not real. I’m not sitting in a room with Arlo and Nora, waiting on Salem. Waiting on the rest of my instant family to show up and for us to be together.
I’m almost giddy, my heart thrumming unsteadily as we wait. Arlo’s irritation is fair. I can’t wait for Salem to get here either.
Arlo’s head snaps up when a car pulls into the parking lot, and I hold my breath as we wait for them to get out.
A long-limbed teen climbs from the front seat, his shaggy brown hair hanging over his eyes and most of his face. I exhale deeply, and Arlo jumps to his feet. “Nor, Salem’s here.”
Nora rips her headphones off, jumping up with her brother.
I stand back, watching as Salem glances toward the building, flipping his hair out of his face.
I’m not sure why it surprises me, but he’s still got a baby face.
He did in the photos that Arlo showed me, but…
for some reason I pictured him more grown-up.
Like he was separated from that round-faced kid in the photos.
But he’s not. He’s still so young-looking.
And all this time he’s been alone. Just a kid stuck in the system with no one to care for him.
Well, no one but Arlo. And now me.
He reaches into the back seat of the car, pulling out a black trash bag, and flings it over his shoulder.
Something about that makes my eyes burn. I should have bought them suitcases. I should have thought of that. They don’t deserve to have their stuff carried around like trash.
Arlo’s edging toward the door, getting closer and closer as Salem does the same on the other side.
When it finally opens, all the air gets sucked out of the room.
Everything happens so fast. Arlo makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat. Salem glances from Nora to Arlo, and the two of them just… collide with each other.
There’s no other word for it.
For a second, there’s ragged breathing, then pained, choked-off sobs. Arlo kisses Salem’s head, then wraps him in his arms.
A whimper echoes from beside me, and then Nora’s rushing toward them.
Without even looking, Arlo pulls back, hooking his arm around her, and drags her into their hug.
The three of them are a heap on the floor, all tangled limbs and gasping sobs, and my heart cracks right down the middle.
Confusion washes over me when Salem pulls away from their pile, sitting back on his heels and wiping furiously at his face. Arlo reaches for him. My baby boy is a caretaker at heart, and I’m not sure how much I really noticed that until this very moment.
All it takes is one outstretched hand to a broken-hearted kid, and it’s plain as day.
But Salem steps away, and, given the slump of Arlo’s shoulders, that hurts him. To my surprise, Salem’s eyes find mine. We stare at each other for a couple of seconds, then Salem’s shoulders rise and fall quickly, his head cocking to the side. “You’re Jasper, right?”
I nod, too dumbstruck to do anything else.
Salem pushes to his feet, nearly stumbling over himself, like someone whose limbs grew too fast for their brain to catch up, and then he’s launching himself across the room and wrapping his arms around me.
His chest shudders, his arms squeezing almost impossibly tight.
I hug him back for all I’m worth, rubbing his back when he starts breaking down again.
“Thank you,” he whispers.
My throat is clogged with tears, growing thicker by the second, but I just squeeze him harder. “I don’t know what you’re thanking me for,” I whisper back.
“Everything. For saving Arlo. For saving me and Nor. For everything.”
I shake my head. “I didn’t save you and Nor, kiddo. Arlo did that.”
Salem nods, his tears soaking my shirt. “You did, though. You saved Arlo. My brother could have died.”
He did die technically, but when my heart lurches, I shake my head to stop that line of thought. Nothing good will come from thinking about what could have been. The reality is that Arlo is alive. And Salem is hugging the fuck out of me, and I need to be focusing on them.
“You’re welcome.”
The hug goes on for much longer than I figured it would, but after a few seconds, he breaks away, swiping at his face again. He blinks up at me with watery brown eyes.
“Are you about to ask me why my hair is so gray? Or how old I am?”
“What?” He laughs. It’s wet and throaty, but it’s real, and that makes pride swell in my chest. Salem Montgomery’s first real laugh after all he’s been through came from me. “Why would I do that?”
“Ask your baby sister,” I say, quirking an eyebrow at her.
She’s sitting on the floor beside Arlo. My baby boy. He’s staring at me in a way he never has before. I thought I’d seen all of Arlo’s looks, but apparently there’s one I’ve missed somehow. I wish I knew what it meant.
“What did you do, Nor?”
She shrugs. “I didn’t do nothing. He said he was born in the 1900s.”
“Nora,” Arlo hisses for the second time.
I couldn’t fight my smile if I tried. “It’s okay. I really was.”
Salem glances around. “This isn’t a joke, right?” he asks, voice soft. “Y’all are really taking us home with you?”
My throat aches, so I nod at Arlo, too afraid that if I speak, I’m gonna lose my shit. Not a great first impression to make.
“We are,” Arlo says. “We can go now. We’ve got a long drive back. Do you want to say goodbye to Maryanne and William?”
Nora jumps up, rushing off toward the office, and Salem follows at a much more sedate pace.
As soon as they’ve cleared the hallway, Arlo is on his feet and making his way across the room to me. He presses his face into my chest, his back shuddering with each breath he inhales.
“You alright, baby boy?” I whisper, running my fingertips up and down his spine.
“It doesn’t feel real. It’s real, right? I might need you to pinch me. God, if I wake up again and they aren’t here, I might actually fucking lose it.”
My eyebrows draw together. “Baby boy…” I pull back far enough to hook my fingers under his chin and force his gaze to mine. “They’re here. We’re taking them home. You’ll never be away from them again.”
He frowns. “No, I know. It’s just…” He stops, blowing out a breath.
“It’s a lot, I know.”
Sliding my hand from his chin to his face, I cradle it in my palm, rubbing my thumb along his cheekbone.
“Did you see their luggage?” he asks, his voice cracking. “I can’t believe they really have to do that. Whole life in a plastic bag.”
“When we leave here, I’ll take them to get suitcases.”
Shaking his head, Arlo sighs. “No need to do that. It just sucks.”
“It does.” I rub his cheek again. “But I want to, okay? I had the same thought.” His brows scrunch. “That they shouldn’t be leaving with a trash bag,” I clarify. “They deserve better than that. All kids do.”
Arlo doesn’t get a chance to answer before both kids come barreling back into the room. “We’re ready,” Nora says, a huge smile on her face.
“Me too,” Arlo says, breaking free of my hold and reaching for her to pull her into another hug.
“Alright, guys. Time to go, then.”
I pick up both their bags, slinging them over my shoulder as I push open the door and hold it.
Arlo slips his hand into Nora’s, leading her out of the building and into the cool fall air. Salem hangs back for a second, so I shift to face him. “You okay?”
Dragging his eyes away from the door, he finds my gaze. “Yeah, I think so. Doesn’t seem real. Seems like some bullshit is about to happen again.”
My lips quirk up. “No bullshit this time.”
He nods. “Yeah, I know. I already know you’re not a bullshitter.”
I can’t help but laugh. “No, I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a bullshitter.”
Glancing into the parking lot, I make eye contact with Arlo. He cocks his head, an eyebrow raising, so I nod to let him know we’re okay before closing the door and turning my full attention to Salem.
“He’s really okay, right?” he whispers, voice low and shaky. “He’s not gonna, like, die in his sleep or anything, right?”
“The scarring is kind of scary, huh?”
Salem doesn’t drag his eyes from the window. “Yeah,” he whispers.
“I know it looks scary,” I say, stepping closer. “But I promise he’s okay. And I’m not a bullshitter, remember?”
Salem smiles. “I remember.” He holds his hand up in the air, with his pinky out. “Pinky promise?”
A long-forgotten memory of Sarah doing the same thing to me when we were kids flashes through my mind, and a bolt of agony hits me so hard that I nearly double over.
“Pinky promise,” I breathe, hooking my pinky through his. “Are you ready?”
Nodding, Salem blows out a breath. “I’m ready.”
We walk out the door together, and after I put their bags in the back of the truck, I climb into the driver’s seat.
Arlo is turned around in his seat, staring at the two of them like he can’t quite believe they actually exist. To be fair, I’m feeling the same way.
Unreal to think that just a month ago, I didn’t even know these kids existed.
And now, I can’t quite imagine a world without them.
“Everyone ready to hit the road? We’ve got a long way to go. I figured we could stop at the gas station and get some snacks and then swing by the store and pick up some suitcases.”
Salem eyes me. “Isn’t that expensive?”
Snacks from the gas station? “I’m not sure, but even if they are, we’ll still get some.”
Salem nods, then drops his attention to his lap. Everyone is silent, so I put the truck in reverse, back out of the parking lot, and head out onto the highway.
“They’re asleep,” Arlo says, turning around to face the back seat again.
In the rearview mirror, I can barely make out the top of Nora’s head resting against the window.
Salem has his head tipped back on the seat.
His mouth is slightly open, and the singular bag of chips he picked out is pressed to his chest like someone might take it away from him if he doesn’t keep it close.
I tried to convince him to get more. That he could have anything he wanted and that single bag of chips was all he got, claiming it was more than enough. More than enough for a long car ride? I don’t know about all that, but it wasn’t worth arguing over. We’ll get there in time.
“They’ve had a long few weeks, I’d say.”
Arlo snorts. “Long year.”
Given the way Salem is clinging to that bag of chips, I’d say it’s been a long lifetime. Longer and harder than anyone should have to endure.
I take Arlo’s hand, holding it in my lap. “Why don’t you try to nap some, baby boy? It’s a long drive back home, and you’re still recovering.”
“What about you?”
“I’m okay. I promise. If I need you to take over for me, I’ll wake you up. I’m used to long shifts.”
“That’s true enough,” Arlo says, sighing.
The seatbelt signal on my dash dings as Arlo unbuckles and moves into the middle seat before buckling up again. His head lands on my shoulder. “Can I rest here?”
“Anytime, baby boy.” Turning, I press a kiss to his head. “Get some rest.”
“Okay, baby,” he whispers, and my heart flutters. Fuck, that’ll never get old. “Thank you for… all this.”
“No. Thank you for all this. I love you.”
Arlo sighs. “I love you too. I can’t wait to be home. I can’t wait to show the kids their rooms. I just can’t wait.”
“Me neither, baby boy.”
This is just the beginning. We have so much ahead of us still. Arlo Montgomery changed my entire life by waltzing into it with his beautiful eyes and his humor and his tenacity and his fire. And then he changed it all over again. With the two sleeping kids in the back seat.
I glance at them just in time to watch Nora slump to her other side, pressing her head to Salem’s shoulder. He doesn’t stir, and Nora’s eyes never open.
They feel safe. They feel safe with me and with each other. And I love that more than words could ever explain.