He circles around to the back of the line before looking my way with a shy smile. My heart has never swelled with so much pride. The circle of skaters continues round and round, and every time Phillip makes it under the bar, the pressure in my chest grows.
Finally it’s down to him and the girl behind him, who may or may not regret giving him advice. Phillip rolls under the pole. She rolls under the pole.
The height lowers. Phillip rolls under the pole. She rolls under the pole.
Repeat.
The crowd presses around me and cheers louder, everyone wanting to see how the competition will end.
“You’ve got this, Phillip,” I shout over the din.
“He’s good,” says the man next to me.
I feel like growling,He’s not good, he’s grrreat!as if I’m Tony the Tiger. But I simply say, “Thanks.”
It’s three more rounds before the girl’s helmet hits the pole, knocking it down, and Phillip is announced the winner.
I whoop. Then the crowd rushes in, and I can’t see him.
My trigger finger tingles, ready to take action. I’ve sent out AMBER Alerts before. Right as I’m about to tear apart the crowd in search of a kidnapper, my nephew emerges.
I blow out my breath and shake the tension from my arms. I just need to be happy for him, not freak him out.
Phillip holds his longboard under one arm, his head tilted to one side as if he’s trying to act casual despite how hard he’s smiling. As if to say,It was nothing, when really it feels like the biggest something of all the somethings.
I feel that. “You did it.” I give him a cool high five but can’t stop there. I hug his little body to me. “Wait until your dad sees the video.”
The man who’d been standing next to me gives Phillip a high five as well. Then he looks at me and lifts his eyebrows. “You’re not his father?”
I don’t like the man’s tone or the judgmental glint in his granite eyes. Phillip shouldn’t be made to feel as if he’s missed out because his dad is defending our country or made to feel as though I’m only here because his dad isn’t. I’m here because I need him more than he needs me. I’m here for moments like this.
“He’s my favorite uncle,” Phillip answers.
I’m not sure if he’s bragging or defending, but I’ll take it. No need to mention I’m his only uncle.
“You have afuncle,” the man jokes. Maybe he wasn’t being judgmental after all, and I’d only seen what I’d expected to see. He nods toward two teenage boys getting ready to jump over the stick and land on their skateboards. Kind of a game of reverse limbo. “I’m sure my sons would love to have a funcle. I’m just the boring old dad who has to bring them to these events even though I don’t know anything about skateboards.”
Now it’s my turn to support him. “The important thing is you’re here.”
There are a lot of good things that should be said about boring old dads. In real life, not everyone gets to have one. And not everyone gets to be one.
I turn Phillip around and lift him up onto my shoulders. He’ll think it’s so he can see the competition over the heads of the crowd in front of us, but it’s actually so he won’t see the emotion on my face. When he looks back on this day, I only want him to remember me as his proud funcle. By the time this reverse limbo game is over and we have to head down the hill for Harris’s race, I’ll have had time to swallow my grief and be able to laugh again.
I may not be able to protect Phillip from his own scrapes and bruises, but I can protect him from my pain. The kid is too young to have to understand that sometimes joy mingles with sorrow.
CHAPTER FIVE
GEMMA
Being a hero isn’t about letting others know you did the right thing, it’s about you knowing you did the right thing.
—GRANDPAMAXTENNYSON
I’m excited to see my niece and nephew, but that’s all I’m excited for. In fact, I put off this dinner with my twin until the night of the second safety academy class. I knew I couldn’t face Karson again without having told Jewel about the warrant for her arrest. At the same time, going to my class after dinner is a good excuse to leave her place early.
I call it a “place” because it doesn’t look like a home. From the street, all you can see is a black box of a garage with a short walkway to the front door on the right. It’s built on a hill, so this is the top floor with bedrooms for Daisy and Forrest behind the garage. You have to go down two more stories, past Jewel’s suite on the middle floor, to get to the main living area that steps out onto a patio. From there, you can see the beautifully terraced landscape, but from here it’s all concrete, including the planters full of firs and ferns.
I suppose it’s a nice place. Definitely spendy. But I don’t think I’d want it even if I could afford it. I’d buy a beach cottage in Seaside, a houseboat on the Columbia River, or maybe even a cabin in Mt. Hood National Forest. Those would be homey. Someday, I’ll have my own home. For now, Jewel can still give me a bad time about sharing a town house with two roommates.
