By the time I came back in, the kids had finished eating, and Celine was wiping down the table. Julian immediately zeroed in on Wayne, his attention flickering to me after a moment. I gave him a nod, making sure to relax my expression. I wasn’t mad. He was a kid, after all.
While I reinstalled the bottom tray and racks, cleaned the exterior, and swept up the ash and debris from the floor, Celine watched me. Not judgmental, but not grateful either. Like she was bracing for the moment when help turned into leverage. Or like she wasn’t sure how to stop me.
I washed my hands, dried them on my pants, and gave them a wave. “Good to go.”
“Thank you.” She shifted, not quite hiding a grimace. “I didn’t expect you to do all that.”
“I know.” I shrugged. “But it’s done.”
“We still haven’t discussed the animals,” Maggie said, her head tipped back and her eyes expectant.
“Maybe tomorrow,” Celine said. “You’ve got to go to bed.”
“How about a tour?” I asked before I thought better of it. Why was I still here and not halfway back to my house by now? I should have left. I usually left. I’d already done way more peopling than I was used to.
It was late and I was tired. I needed to be alone to reset myself after this weird-ass night.
Julian homed in on me. “Can we see the tractors?”
“And the fruit trees?” Maggie’s blond hair was wild around her inquisitive face.
I looked at Celine before answering, just to be sure, and when she gave a tiny nod, I agreed. “I’ll give you all a tour tomorrow afternoon. Show you around your new home.”
Home. That word reverberated through me, landing heavier than it should have.
Julian sat up a little taller and Maggie beamed at me.
An unfamiliar warmth gathered in my chest.
“Thanks again,” Celine said, following Wayne and me to the front door.
“Don’t mention it.” I stepped outside, then turned around to face her. “Is it really your birthday?”
She squeezed her eyes shut, but not before a hint of pain flashed in them. “Tomorrow.”
“Happy birthday,” I said, stuffing my hands into my pockets.
She scoffed. “Thirty-five and starting over with three kids in Bumfuck, Vermont.” Peering over her shoulder, she lowered her voice. “And I almost burned down the nicest house we’ve ever lived in on day one. Happy fucking birthday to me.”
Anger seeped out of her, and there was no hiding the weariness she was carrying, or her general air of defiance.
“Yeah, that tracks,” I said.
“You’re kind of an ass,” she said.
Taking a step back, I tipped my baseball cap at her. “I’ve been called worse.”
Chapter 3
Celine
At five fifteen exactly, I opened my eyes. Julian was splayed across my legs, several of Maggie’s stuffed animals crowded my head and shoulders, and her hardcover edition ofThe Hunger Games—the one she’d brought in when she couldn’t sleep—was resting on my chest.Excellent.
Closing my eyes, I took a second to breathe in this moment. As I exhaled, I rubbed Julian’s back. I picked up on the steady pounding of his heartbeat while I listened to the rhythm of the girls’ breathing.
Mornings like this were rare. No alarm, no rushing, and no panic. Nothing but a moment of peace.
I would have loved to stay here and soak this in, but I hadn’t run yesterday, and my anxiety would not let me skip again. So I slid out of bed, tucking Julian back in, and tiptoed to the bathroom to brush my teeth. Then I threw on shorts, a sports bra, and my sneakers.
