I hold in my laughter as I settle into bed behind her, relishing the feel of her warm skin against mine. “You little rebel. Breaking rules all over the place.”
A tiny growl. “Stop talking and go to sleep.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I kiss her bare shoulder. “Dream of me, sweetheart. I’ll be dreaming of you.”
Chapter 30
Fable
Oaks Folks
Mom:Fabes, I know you’re off on an overnight adventure with Theo but just wanted you to know that Knocks is doing great.
Tessa:OVERNIGHT??!!
Tessa:Answer your phone, right this instant.
Millie:Leave her alone, Tess. They’re probably sleeping!
Millie:Or other things!
Dad:Things we should keep out of these texts...
Millie:Like eating breakfast?
Tessa:Or eating someONE! Amiright?!
Dad:I’m still wondering how I get out of this group chat.
“Here you are, sweetie.” Mom hands me a blueberry muffin before sitting on the porch swing beside me and tipping us into motion.
“Thank you.” I peel off the wrapper and take a big bite, watching Theo and Dad in the goat pen as they try to drain a particularly muddy spot. Layla is at the fence, mud coating her torso, trying to convince them to let her help.
It has been a week since we woke up tangled in each other in Oregon, and the No Sleepovers rule has officially dissolved into nothing. We’ve spent every night together since, splitting our time between his house and the A-frame. When we stay here, he gets up every morning to come work with Dad. Ican’t help but tease him about it—leaving me in bed to hang out with my dad is objectively hilarious—but I also love it. Seeing them together warms my heart.
“Your dad doesn’t even care if I come out to help with the morning chores anymore,” Mom says, following my gaze.
“Aw, are you feeling replaced?” I laugh. “Want me to tell Theo he can’t come over to play anymore?”
Early morning sunshine dances over her cheekbones, accentuating her soft wrinkles as she grins. “Absolutely not. Ilove it. So does your dad.” She picks off a piece of her muffin. “And I think it’s good for Theo.”
“Me too.”
“You should’ve seen Eva’s face light up when I told her he’dbeen coming over. She had tears in her eyes.” Wrapping her arm around my shoulders, she pulls me closer and asks, “How’s my baby?”
There’s something about Mom holding me, my cheek to her thin sweater, her head tipped to mine, that brings everything to the surface instantly. Maybe it’s her years as a school counselor or maybe it’s just who she is, but she’s adept at pulling the truth out of me.
“I’m okay,” I try, but my voice cracks.
“Want to talk about it?” Her fingers rub gently on my upper arm. She waits patiently while I think, chewing through a bite of muffin.
“I just don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing with my life,” I finally admit.
A soft, thoughtful hum. “I don’t know if any of us really do.”
“It seems like everyone else does. Like you all figured it out way quicker than me, and I’m behind.”
“Are you in a hurry?”
