My nerves are shot, and my heart hasn’t stopped pounding since I got here a half hour ago. My mom’s having my sister and I over for dinner, and I figured now was as good a time as any to tell them about Lukas, considering I’m supposed to be meeting him and his grandma tomorrow night. After I spoke with Gentry at the diner about it, Hollis called me, and I told him everything I told his dad, and just like Gentry, he thinks I could really help Lukas.
Even though I’ve already made a decision, I’m still nervous to tell my family. Nervous about how they’ll react. I don’t doubt that they will support me, but what if they think it’s foolish? What if they think I don’t have what it takes to be a good role model to this kid?
It’s such a huge decision, and I hate that I’m doubting myself.
“I met a kid a few months ago at a funeral,” I say. Mom turns down the stove, glancing over her shoulder at me, while my sister looks up from the table. “He’s thirteen. Lost his dad in that Triton fire.”
The words feel heavy in my mouth.Thirteen.
My mom turns around, and I can see it on her face. Understanding. “Thirteen?” she repeats.
I nod. “Same age I was.”
That does it. The air changes, and we all feel it. My throat is tight as memories flash through my mind that I don’t like to remember. Polished shoes that didn’t fit quite right, the weight of people’s hands on my shoulders, the way everyone kept sayingbe strong for your mom.I hated being told that. I was thirteen… I was just a kid. I didn’t need to be strong.
The house was so loud after the funeral, and I distinctly remember how quiet it felt after everyone left.
“He doesn’t have much family,” I explain. My voice shakes. “He was raised by a single dad, and after he died, the boy—Lukas—went to live with his grandma. But she’s moving to North Dakota soon.”
“That poor boy,” my mom murmurs.
“He came to see me at the firehouse this week. He looks exhausted, like he’s waiting for something else in his life to explode.” I drag a hand down my face, letting out a shaky breath.
Sadie and my mom watch me with wet eyes, and I know the flashbacks are hitting them too.
“I keep thinking about when I was thirteen and we lost Dad,” I say. “How angry I was. How I didn’t want anyone’s pity. How I just…needed someone to sit outside my door so I didn’t feel like the world had dropped out from under me.”
“You stopped talking for months,” my sister says. “You thought you had to be the man of the house overnight.”
I huff a humorless breath.
“What did he come see you for?” Mom asks, like she’s got a sixth sense and knows what’s coming before I even say it.
My heart catapults into my ribs. This is the part that makes it real, the part I’ve been the most nervous about. And no matter how many times I’ve run through this conversation in my head, none of the words sound right.
“Well, like I said, his grandma is moving to North Dakota soon, and Lukas doesn’t really want to uproot his life more than it already has been.” There’s a long, pregnant pause. Nausea swirls around in my gut. “I think I’ve decided to take him in... Give him a place to stay. Be his guardian.”
The words hit the tile and stay there. They surround us. My mom and Sadie share a look, but their expressions remain neutral. There’s no wince, no rearing back, no laughing.
“His…guardian,” Sadie says. “Is that something you can do? Like, legally?”
I nod. “I’ve looked into it a little this week, and I’ll know more once I meet with his grandma. But yeah, it’s legally something I can do. And I think I really want to. I’ve got the room at my house. My schedule is steady. But all I’d really need to figure out is someone to watch him during my shifts.” I swallow thickly. “Really, just somebody to stay with him overnight. I know it’s a huge decision, and I know it’s a big change to how I’m currently living… Single and by myself, but I think I can really help him. I couldn’t save his dad, and I know nothing can bring him back or lessen the ache Lukas feels in his heart. But I can show up for him now. I can help him.”
My mom studies me carefully, her hands wringing the apron around her waist. “Is this about guilt? Because you couldn’t save him?”
“No. It’s about memories.” Pressing my tongue to the inside of my cheek, I try to steady myself. It’s like I’m thirteen all over again. Raw and full of emotions that I didn’t know whatto do with. “I remember sitting on my bed after Dad died. How empty I felt. HowsadI felt. Not just a normal sad, but a pit-in-my-stomach, I’m-not-sure-if-I’ll-ever-recover kind of sad. And I remember thinking if someone would just come in and tell me I didn’t have to be okay yet, I didn’t have to bestrong, then maybe I could breathe. Maybe I’d make it through this.”
A tear spills over, rolling down my mom’s cheek. She wipes it away, clearing her throat. “Honey, I’m—I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that.”
“No, Mom.” I shake my head, meeting her gaze. “I’m not mad at you for that. You were grieving, just like I was. Just like Sadie was. We all were. I don’t think any of us were in a place to comfort anyone. But that’s the thing… Icanbe that comfort for him. I can help him navigate what he’s feeling.”
Walking over to me, she reaches for my hand, squeezing it the way she did the night my world turned upside down. “This won’t be easy,” she says softly. Not with doubt in me, but care. “Grief at thirteen is…sharp.”
Remembering Gentry’s words the other day, I say, “I know, but who better to help him weed through it all than someone who’s been there already?”
Silence settles between us. It’s not heavy or uncomfortable, just full. My mom pulls me in for a hug, and again, it’s like I’m transported back to thirteen again, except this time I’m steady on my feet. I’m stronger. Sadie wraps her arms around us next, resting her cheek on my shoulder.
“If you want to do this,” Mom whispers. “You have my support.”
