“You’re good,” I tell him. “Really good.”
He shrugs, but there’s something there that’s bothering him. “Coach Toddy says he doesn’t know if I’ll make it.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, my spoon pausing in midair. “Of course you’ll make it. It’s a small town with not that many kids. How can Coach Toddy turn people away?”
“He’s just been saying we have to try harder, or some of us aren’t gonna make it.”
I glance over at Ollie, and his eyes give me a look that says, “we’ll talk about it later.” We do that a lot. Ollie and I are each other’s sounding boards. I listen to his vents about his mom and stuff he has going on at the fire station. He listensto me vent about my dad and crappy customers. Ollie’s my person and I am his.
After dinner, we clean up together, and for a little while, life feels almost normal. But the paper crumbled in my pocket reminds me that it’s not exactly true.
“Why don’t you grab a shower and make sure you wash your hair good,” I tell my brother. “Then you can play with Ollie.”
“Okay!” he calls as he runs down the hall.
As soon as he’s out of earshot, Ollie is on me for the details of what went down.
“Okay, what’s going on?” Ollie asks, leaning in and crossing his forearms, thick muscle stretching under his sleeves, and my brain fully checks out for a second.
I pull out the noticeI shoved into my pocket when we walked in, and we both read it.“We have thirty days left here.”
He shakes his head angrily. “Why hasn’t he been paying?”
“I can’t even begin to understand Sully anymore,” I fume asI load the bowls into the sink just so my hands have something to do. I turn on the water and soap up my dishes. “I’ll figure it out.”
Ollie leans his hip against the counter. “Move up to the loft with me. You can save money, and I can help you get back on your feet.”
I freeze, looking at him like he’s nuts. “We’re not living in the loft.”
“Why not?” he asks, searching my eyes like he’s challenging me to give him a valid answer.
“It’s like a frat house up there, and that’s your space, Ollie,” I object, setting the dishes in the dish drain.
“I’ve been fixing it up,” he says with a shrug. “Come on, Poppy. It’d be fun, and we practically spend every day together anyway. What would be different?”
“You need your space to have a life,” I remind him. “This isn’t your problem, it’s mine. AndIhave to figure it out.”
He looks at me and says, “I have a life just fine, and you don’t have to figure this out by yourself. You have me.”
You have me.If only it were that simple, but it’s not.
“I’m done, Ollie,” I tell him, feeling freakishly calm.
Ollie picks up the dishes, dries them, and says, “What are you going to do then?”
I shrug and begin rinsing out the sink. “If Owen’s losing the only home he’s ever known, then yeah, I’m done keeping the peace with Sully.”
“I agree,” Ollie says as he puts the dishes away. “Sully needs to get lost for good.”
“I’ll figure it out,” I say quietly. I always do.
“I don’t get why you won’t let me help,” he murmurs. “You know, I’m here for you guys.”
But that’s the problem. If I lean on him, he could break me, too. And Ollie’s the one person I can’t risk losing. How many times does Ollie have to save us before he thinks we’re a burden and finally leaves us? I can’t even think about how awful that would be.
Owen and Ollie play their game together while I take a much-needed hot shower and relish every last drop of water beating down on my tense shoulders.
In my room, I towel off my hair, and I open my closet door. There it is. A poster of my silly collage of Pinterest dreams. Chickens, wildflowers, a cozy front porch, green pastures, and a tire swing. I can see it when I close my eyes and go to sleep every night. I’m sitting out there on that porch, having a quiet morning with my coffee in my favorite chipped mug that was my mom’s. That’s the life I dream of when I close my eyes at night. A life where Owen and I have plenty of groceries, andSully doesn’t come around to take whatever he wants, whenever he wants.
