Patience came in many lessons over the years. From her taking her time to smell the proverbial roses, to the chatter that meant so much to her. I may not care that a teacher wasn’t on time to grade a paper, but it mattered to her, and I needed the patience to sit and listen to her and help her work through those emotions.
As a parent, that’s my job, a job I just failed at by putting my foot in my mouth.
“You like it here?” I say instead of all the knee-jerk reaction things I could say. I know she likes it here. That magic Saffron spoke of embedded itself into her brain, and she fell in love right away, then she felt that magical pull of the town.
I admit I see the value and the intrigue of something we’ve never experienced. It’s also exactly why I’ve balked at the idea of staying here. I can see myself falling in love with the town as well.
Lark drags a fry through her milkshake, her chocolate brown eyes sad as they glance up at me. “It doesn’t matter.”
I reach out and grip her hand. “It matters to you, and I want to hear what you have to say.”
“It’s just that.” She licks her lips as she hesitates. “I like it here because it’s like having a big family.”
My throat clogs, tears rise in my eyes, and my heart skips a few beats. I glance to the ceiling to keep the tears from spilling down my face.
“Mom, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, little bird.” I still can’t look at her. It isn’t because I don’t want to, but I didn’t realize how much she needed a family until just this moment. “Never apologize for the feelings inside you, and never hold back from telling me just how you feel.” My heart shreds.
“Everyone here is kind, like an entire village of aunts.” She smiles at me as I look at her through blurry eyes. “I enjoy having a lot of aunts.”
“If Uncle Robin ever?—”
“Mom, Uncle Robin has lived out of state almost my entire life.”
She isn’t wrong, though he’s always made it a point to be in her life in some way, from phone calls to visits during the holidays. But it isn’t the same as having a family member down the street that she can run to if she gets sick of me. After Gram died and Robin left, it was just us and then Eric, who played the part of an uncle.
“I like it. It’s not like Atlanta. I can walk down the street and go to school on my own and there’s someone watching me.”
“We’ve only been here twenty-four hours. How can you be so sure?” This time, a sliver of vulnerability slips into my voice. We don’t know these people, and trust doesn’t come easily to me.
“Let them show you, Mom.” My little spawn reaches out to me, and with knowledge far beyond her twelve years, she speaksthe words that I just know will haunt me for the next few months. “Let them teach you.”
Let them teach you.
Allow an entire town of strangers to teach me how to trust? I nod, because if I delve too far into that, I know I’ll feel so much more than I’m willing to feel in this moment. If I allow these strangers in and I end up trusting them, I’ll feel so much more, and that’s something I haven’t felt in a long time.
“What movie are they screening tonight?” I ask, opting for neutral ground.
“It’s November, so until the end of January, they only show Christmas movies.” Once again, she beams at me. “Home Alone.”
“Which one?”
“The first one.”
“All right. Better eat up so we can see just what this drive-in is like,” I tell her, but a small part of me is curious as well.
CHAPTER 8
Saffron was kind enoughto let us borrow her car, but she neglected to tell us it wasn’t just any car, but a restored vintage Ford truck she drove right out of 1930. The glistening cherry red paint and restoration screams Arlo.
If only because it matches his signature red flannel.
We rumble down the road with blankets, pillows, and dinner, all courtesy of Saffron, who doted on us after she told us we could stay there until the spring—free of charge.
It all seemed very suspicious, and I, of course, left her a few hundred on the reception desk because I know nothing is ever truly free. She may offer us the rooms for free, and I well and truly appreciate that, but she keeps feeding us, and that means she’s running to the grocer a few times a week.
It doesn’t matter that she said it gives her purpose, which might eat at me for a little while.
