“Three months.”
“That’s… That’s…” I back up slowly and flop down on the seat beside Lark. “February.”
“About that, it gets worse.”
“How does it get worse?” I shriek, and Lark pats my thigh in support.
“Yeah, winter here isn’t a normal winter. You’re from the South, right?”
“I didn’t tell you where I was from.”
“Your accent” —he waves a finger around his face— “gave it away.”
“Right.” How is this even my life right now? “Okay, what’s the winter like?” He isn’t wrong. Until yesterday, the only snow I’ve ever seen was on the postcards my brother sent me.
“We’re talking blizzard-like winters.”
“Really?” Lark’s excitement opposes my trepidation. This was not the plan. Lark taps my thigh. “Mom, it’s an adventure.” And there she goes, throwing my words right back at me.
“An adventure.” I run my hands down my face, feeling the dry skin pull as I do so. I glance down at my little bird, knowing that this move was hard enough on her. It’s always been the two of us, taking on the world. “What are you thinking, kid?”
She shrugs her delicate little shoulders as her signature half smirk rises while she takes in Arlo’s shop. I try to see what she does—the black, white, and red color scheme with a fifties feel. It doesn’t feel like Arlo, and it’s because I don’t really know the man. When we walked in, I was surprised by the clean lines and the big bubble gum machine that Lark ran to. She was even more excited that she didn’t need a quarter—free gumballs.
“I want to find a home.” Her admission sends a pang straight to my heart.
I thought we had found a home in Atlanta. Both Lark and I were born and raised there, and I never veered too far from the city—moving from one borough to the next didn’t count.Grandma raised my brother and me, and though her home was ours, that isn’t what made it home, she did.
When she died, she took that feeling away, leaving a gaping hole in her wake. She left me to pull the edges of that wound back together and sew it closed. Though that wound has long since healed, Lark and I have done nothing but wander around.
Eric gave us the illusion of home with his warm smile, but that feeling never blossomed.
Through the lump in my throat, I reply, “I want to find home too, kiddo.”
“I think this place could be good for us.” She peers up at me with intelligence shining in her brown eyes.
“Oh, and why is that?”
“We’ve lived in the city our whole life. Always on the go. This adventure could be just what we need.”
“An adventure that might just last until spring,” I remind her.
“It can.”
“How about this,” Arlo interjects. “I’ll do my best to make this as easy as possible on you, and if the car isn’t ready by Christmas, I will personally drive you to your destination.”
Lark frowns at him. Her little heart is already set on staying here until spring. “I don’t know.”
“Why don’t we play this by ear?” I suggest. Though this all sounds well and good, there are a few things to hash out. “Why don’t you head over to the school and check it out? I’ll meet up with you in a moment.”
“Why didn’t you just say you wanted to talk to Arlo alone?”
“I’d like to talk to Arlo alone.”
“See? That wasn’t hard.” I wait until she heads out, the bells on the door tinkling in her wake.
I want to curse, scream, and cry all at once. “Eleven weeks.”
“I’m really sorry, Birdie.” His lips purse with genuine sadness for me.
