"Noah, you've got your paints? It's acrylic day, right?"
"Ms. Piper said we're learning tints and shades. We're gonna paint an autumn lanscrape!"
"Landscape, buddy," Liam corrects, lips twitching like he's trying not to laugh.
"That's what I said! Lanscrape," Noah insists stubbornly.
"Noah," I laugh, catching his attention. I enunciate clearly. "Land-scape."
"Oh," he says, nodding seriously, like he just solved a great mystery. "Landscape."
"Perfect," I laugh, pressing a kiss to his little ginger head and herding them toward the door to the garage.
Liam slings an arm around Noah's shoulders and ruffles his hair as they head out the door, "I'm sure your landscape is gonna look sick."
The words make me smile as I grab my own bags, my water bottle, and my keys. I'm heading to the door when the floor creaks behind me.
Atlas.
I turn and find him standing in the kitchen doorway, his eyes fixed on me and full of something I can’t identify. I’venever seen that look before. Dark circles shadow his eyes from the nightmares, and the man who once felt as solid as a mountain suddenly looks so small.
Unflinching, I hold his gaze, both of us locked in this game of chicken and daring the other to speak first.
I've been speaking for the last year; it's his turn to speak. I want him to crack himself open and just let me fucking in. Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong so we can figure it out together.
When Atlas parts his lips, hope swells in my chest. I go perfectly still like he’s a skittish horse who will bolt if I breathe wrong.
He opens and closes his mouth a few times, but no sound comes out. Then, his mouth snaps shut, his jaw locking, and his eyes hardening. I can quite literally see him slamming the door shut before my very eyes.
I feel any reserves I kept running deep inside me slam shut, too.
With one final look, I turn and walk out the door to the garage, slamming it a little harder than I mean to. I shove the frustration down before I get into my car, not wanting my boys to feel it.
It’s pointless. Liam watches me from the front seat as I slide into the driver’s side and start the car.
I meet his eyes and smile, smoothing his dark hair back from his forehead. He gives me a small smile, though his eyes remain tight with concern.
"Mama, why did you pack lunch too?" Noah asks from the backseat as I pull out of the driveway. There's movement at the curtains by the front door, and I know it's Atlas watching us.
"Because," I start, smiling at him in the rearview mirror. "Your Mama got a job."
Both boys go still with surprise, though Liam's facial expression is tinged with suspicion now.
Noah tilts his head, "Where?"
"I'll be working at Mabel's."
"Really?" Liam asks, and I nod eagerly, a genuine smile on myface.
I really want to stress to them how truly happy this makes me, and show them that change isn't always scary; sometimes it's exciting.
And thisisexciting.
From Noah's smiling face, I can see that he's okay with it. Liam keeps his eyes on me, just like yesterday, just like this morning, too perceptive for his age.
"I'll still be here to pick you guys up. Nothing changes there,” I assure them, and myself if we’re being honest. “If I have to work on the weekends, Grandmom and Grandpop will watch you. Sound good?"
"Yeah!" Noah yells, excited at the prospect of more time with his grandparents. I smile at my little ball of energy, but Liam is quiet next to me, seeming to think over my words.
