“You never bought me flowers before.”
“I never walked past a flower shop before.” The lies burn my tongue.
Her hum of suspicion makes it clear she isn’t buying it. “Come on, how much time do we have before the bell rings?”
“We are already late, and you will be too if you don’t hurry.” Lark pauses at the end of the sidewalk, where a stout man with a bright white bushy beard in a yellow vest holds his hand out for the nonexistent cars so kids can cross. She looks at the moose on the side of the school, then to the front doors where teachers and Seraphina greet students. Catching her eye, Seraphina waves, but Lark just continues to stand there.
“This is it,” she says.
“Yep, better scoot and get your learning on!” I pat her shoulder before giving her a side hug.
“I’m nervous.”
“Why?” In all her years, Lark has never hesitated on anything. Not her first steps, not her first day of kindergarten. Never. Until now.
“I don’t know, it feels different.” She gazes up at me with those beautiful brown eyes of hers.
“Different how? It’s just a school, kiddo.” Just another school in a sea of schools across the country. I glance from her to the school, then back to her, trying to understand what makes this moment so different.
“Never mind,” she mutters before trying to step off the curb.
“Oh, no you don’t.” I grab her backpack and tug her backwards. “What is it?”
“Are you sure you want to know?”
No. “Of course.”
“It feels like home.”
“Atlanta?”
“No, Mom. It feels like home. This town, this school, this place. It just feels right.” She shrugs again, dislodging my handfrom her backpack. “When I look at that school, I can imagine myself walking out of there with a cap and gown on.”
“Oh.” All my words become a jumbled dictionary in my head, the pages torn from their binding as I try to gauge just how to react to that statement. I know Lark loves it here, but I didn’t realize she had already found what she considered forever in a matter of days. I don’t want to destroy her dream, and I don’t want to lie to her. She knows this wasn’t the plan, and though my new job in Maine doesn’t start until January, I can’t give her the fantasy either.
“Yeah.” Snark slips from her as she darts across the street, not once looking back at me.
Inside, my emotions rage at me. One side of the coin flares with anger that I didn’t tell her what she wanted to hear, and the other side says I should never lie to her.
“What was that about?” Arlo steps up to me, holding two coffee cups in his hands as he points one at Lark.
“Is that for me?” I ask.
“Yeah.” Jerking his head to the garage, he asks, “Got a minute?”
“Were you waiting for me, Arlo Larson?”
“Nope.” Keys jangle in his hands as he turns the lock and opens up his shop.
“Not buying it,” I tease, helping him flip on all the lights. I set my coffee on the counter before flipping the sign to “Open” as Arlo heads in the back, ignoring me. I drift around the counter, turning on the register and the neon lights that say “Garage.”
“So here’s the issue.” He walks out from the back, his hands already somehow covered in grease while still holding a cup of coffee in one hand and a tablet in the other. “The part I need should be here in a few days, but I start my lessons today.”
Grabbing my coffee, I prop myself up on a stool as Arlo sets up his tablet. “Okay, so what did you need to talk to me about?”
“It’s going to sound absurd.”
“Try me.”
