7. Emerson
Emerson
“Emerson Alexander Lane!”
Hearing my full name made us both freeze. Ryleigh groaned, tossing his head up to the sky as I chuckled.
“I really thought we’d been stealthy this time,” he sighed as we watched Henley scamper over the grassy field toward us.
By the time she made it to the dock, she fell dramatically onto the grass, sprawling out like a starfish in front of us.
Tossing an arm over her face, she yelled at us in between pants.
“You said . . . you wouldn’t leave me behind . . . anymore!”
Ryleigh grumbled under his breath, tossing his towel over the cooler. “This hangout is just for grown-ups.”
Henley’s body jolted up. Her freckled nose scrunched as her lips pressed into a thin line. “Oh really?” She stood all the way up, pretending to search for something.
Ryleigh’s hands fell to his hips, his patience running thin.
“Hmm, I don’t see any grown-ups around. Do you?” She crossed her arms and gave Ryleigh a devious smirk. His face turned beet red. Knowing there was an inevitable smackdown that was about to happen, I braced myself.
My money was on Henley.
“If you don’t let me go down to the lake with you, I’ll tell mom you’ve snuck out the past two nights to hang out with Jill.”
Ryleigh’s mouth gaped wide next to me, and I couldn’t help the laugh that slipped free at the sight. She was getting better at giving us hell.
Hen 1, Ryleigh 0.
“You wouldn’t dare!” he growled.
Green Converse-covered feet danced their way right up to her brother as she shoved her little finger into his chest. “Wanna bet?”
Ryleigh’s clenched fists told me he was about to lose his shit, so before he did, I stepped in. I might be enjoying watching this all fall out, but I was the man’s best friend, after all. I’d always have his back.
“You can swim with us, but only we get the swing,” I said.
An approving smile shone on Ryleigh’s lips as he crossed his arms over his chest, awaiting his sister’s response.
“No deal! You both know that’s my favorite part!”
“Hmm, well I guess I’ll just have to spill to my Mama that her favorite apron that she’s been looking all over for has been confiscated by the ‘not-so-innocent’ Henley Rae Cole.”
She gasped. “H-how did you . . . ?”
“I have eyes everywhere,” I said, shrugging nonchalantly. A smile ticked on my lips as her mouth opened wide in horror. “Plus, when our mothers went to put the food you all cooked the other night on the table, I caught you sneaking it into your backpack.”
Me 1, Hen 1.
She paced back and forth before finally pausing with a heavy sigh. My grin grew wider as I watched her shoulders slump in defeat. “Fine.”
Ryleigh whistled low, ruffling the hair on top of her head with his palm. “She never surrenders that fast with me. That was impressive. Be glad you’re an only child, dude.”
With a firm pat to my back, he sprinted down the dock and leapt into the lake with a ceremonial cannon ball. Henley tossed me a scowl before trotting further down the shore. Satisfied with how far away from us she was, I watched her gracefully dive in.
After a few hours and one last swing into the lake, Ryleigh and I decided to head back to his house. Ryleigh scanned the lake for his sister, and his gaze landed on her walking toward the tree swing we’d left vacant. “Nope, no swinging. The sun’s getting ready to set, it’s time to head home, Hen.”
“Ryleigh, you’ve both hogged it all day! I’ve been good. I s-stayed away all day.” Her bottom lip wobbled, and I could hear the disappointment in her shaky voice.
“Kids, it’s time to come help with dinner.” Their mother’s voice swung out from the truck she drove out here to collect us with.
“Mom’s calling!” Ryleigh shouted across to Hen.
Tears slid down her reddened cheeks. Shifting my gaze toward Ryleigh, I wasn’t surprised to see his shoulders slump, guilt etching wrinkles in his forehead.
Ryleigh hated seeing her cry, just as much as I did. “I’m sorry, Hen. It’s time to go home,” he said gently. “We can work on convincing mom to let us come back down here tomorrow after school.”
They might bicker like cats and dogs, but they both looked out for each other with a fierceness I’d always admired.
Sometimes, I wondered what it would be like to have a sibling.
One that would watch out for my back and be there for me whenever I was struggling.
I sometimes thought that was why I’d become so attached to Ryleigh; he was the closest thing I’d ever had to a brother.
Mrs. Cole honked the horn twice, shaking Henley from her stupor. Erasing any evidence of her damp cheeks with her palms, she made her way toward Ryleigh’s outstretched arm.
Ryleigh looked deflated. Suddenly, I had this urgency to fix the sadness for them both.
To help Ry feel less guilty for the decision I had made about the swing earlier.
But also, to make Hen happy again. Just like she did to everyone else around her.
Like the countless times she’d made my Mama laugh, even while battling her health issues.
My hand sprung forward on its own accord, lowering Ryleigh’s arm. Puzzled, he raised a brow. Henley halted her steps, eyes widening with hope. “You head back with your mom and get started with dinner. I’ll watch her while she swings a few times, then walk her back up to the house.”
As he opened his mouth to reply, his mom hollered their names once more. With a sigh, he brushed his fingers through his russet hair.
“I’m coming, mom!” he yelled, before turning back toward us. Pointing a finger toward Hen, he said sternly, “Alright, I’ll cover for you with mom, but only five jumps off the swing, okay?”
The golden light of the setting sun illuminated her wide smile. She turned immediately and dashed toward the old oak’s tree swing.
“Best brother ever!” she shrieked, taking one gigantic swing and plunging into the lake below. Ryleigh and I both broke out in laughter, and he placed a hand on my shoulder before heading toward the truck.
“Take care of that little firecracker, will ya?”
“Of course,” I said, then jogged over to the lake.
Leaning against the tree, I folded my arms across my chest and watched her leap on and off the old tree swing. Each time Hen emerged, she was laughing so hard that her whole body shook. It sent a wake of laughter rumbling through me.
The sudden burst of amusement made me realize how long it’d been since I’d laughed this hard. There was so much that I’d been keeping inside that some days I felt like I might break. Things had been so heavy, for so long.
For fun—and to shake myself out of this funk—I started holding up my fingers, silently scoring her after each jump. Once she caught on to what I was doing, each new swing became a personal challenge to beat her previous score.
I just wanted to hit pause on this exact moment.
Henley had always been so full of life. Enthusiasm seeped out of her like radiant rays of sunshine.
The feeling was intoxicating to anyone around her.
Her infectious personality had been a little spot of warmth to my family over the years.
You would never guess that at times she struggled with worry and fears.
Lately, she’d been keeping Mama company.
My Mama taught her how to bake, and while they waited for their creations to be done, Hen entertained her.
Sometimes she painted her nails, or she helped her cut her favorite wildflowers from the garden and group them into arrangements at the kitchen table.
On the harder days, she helped her over to the couch and they would watch Mama’s favorite rom-coms. Every time she walked into our house, she helped dim the heaviness that loomed over us.
After about the millionth dive into the lake, I decided it was time to call it quits.
Mrs. Cole would worry if we were gone for too long.
Plus we had a long walk back up to her house before it got dark.
The sun had almost descended behind the mountain range, dusk misting over the vibrant colors of the sunset.
She must have come to the same conclusion, because she slung on her Converse and wrapped herself in a towel.
We strolled back up to the house. The silence was awkward. Usually, Ryleigh or our parents were around. Honestly, I didn’t even remember a time it was just the two of us.
“Thank you for coming over the other day to bake with Mama,” I said.
Hugging her towel a little tighter around her, she grinned.
“She loves it when you and your mom come over to cook together, but I can tell teaching you how to bake is a special part of her day. I’ve never quite gotten the hang of either, so I’m glad she gets to share her passions with you.
On those hard days, you always seem to make them a little bit easier, especially when you make her laugh so loud Dad and I can hear it all the way outside in the garage. ”
“Your Mama has a great laugh and I love spending time with her,” she breathed, startling me by wrapping her hand in mine. “She makes my hard days lighter, too.”
My heart tugged a little at her confession, and I squeezed her hand reassuringly before she wiggled it free.
“You didn’t have to stay with me today, I know I bother you guys.” Her face scrunched, her gaze fluttering toward the ground. “I—just . . . well, I just want to say thank you, too.”
“Of course.” I shrugged. “That’s what friends are for right?”
“You . . . you think I’m a friend?” she squeaked.
Taken aback, my eyes widened. “Absolutely, why wouldn’t I?”
She fell silent, and I could tell she’d fallen into her thoughts from the deep creases set between her brows. Her shoulders shrugged.
“Your brother is my best friend, but I’ll always be your friend, too.”
“Really?” She peeked up at me shyly as I nodded. “Like even when I call you by your full name, and steal your Mama’s favorite apron?”
“Good point.” I hummed playfully. “Thieves are automatically un-friended.”
Her pointy elbow jabbed me in the side, making me bellow out a laugh.
“Jerk,” she mumbled, shaking her head.
“Not a jerk,” I said gently. “A friend.”
We reached the back porch, and before I could say goodbye, she wrapped her arms around my waist and squeezed me tightly. So I did what any good friend would do and hugged her back.