Page 115 of Goode Tidings

I read over Callum's last text, and the reality of it all hits me square in the chest. He cares for us. Deeply. I knew he did, but it's become impossible to overlook. He says the right things, sure, but it's his actions doing the talking. Callum is a man who shows up. I knew men like him existed. Klein and Dominic are those men. But I didn't know there would be a man like that for me. All I had to do was drive four hours north and find him in a cozy little cabin in a mountain town.

Klein walks back in with a small paper cup of water. "The nurses looked busy, and I didn't want to interrupt them. I searched it up, and the incredibly dependable internet has informed me Oliver can start slow with some sips of water."

At the sound of his name, Oliver opens his eyes. Klein brings the water to Oliver's lips, and Oliver assists by holding the cup. "Good work, Ollie."

"You're going to be a good dad," I tell my brother, watching him. He and Paisley have talked about trying to have a baby soon.

Klein says thank you and offers Oliver another drink.

The mention of being a dad makes me think of Callum's most recent text. What did he mean when he said working with Justin on old wounds might make him a better father? I don't doubt they will, but I get the feeling he was being specific.

Oliver is more lucid now. The water seems to have awakened him. His awareness has also opened up his emotions.

"I can't believe I had to leave the camping trip early," he says, growing misty-eyed. "Why couldn't this have happened next weekend?"

"Such a bummer," I say, commiserating.

"You didn't even want me to go," he says petulantly, picking at the hospital blanket covering him.

He's not wrong. But I let him go anyway. I worked through my worry. I made big strides in the releasing my young into the wild department. And yes, something went wrong. But it was ok. Scary, and unpleasant, and the adrenaline has not yet dissipated, but we are essentially alright.

"I—"

The curtain is yanked dramatically to the side.

Justin steps in.

Oliver's mouth opens in astonishment. "Dad!"

Justin's face lights up. His shoulders sag with relief. I move aside so Justin can take my place at Oliver's side, and he does. He wraps Oliver up in a big hug, laying his cheek on Oliver's head.

"You had to wait until you were in the middle of the woods to get appendicitis, huh?" he says into Oliver's hair.

"Made things exciting," Oliver says when Justin releases him. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought I'd check in on you and your mom. See how you're getting along in Snowflake."

I still don't know Justin's exact reason for showing up, and it's possible what he just told Oliver is bullshit, but I'm not going to call him on it at this precise moment.

"I don't think I have to be here long." Oliver's wearing hope plain on his face. "Are you coming home with us?"

Justin glances at me. "Maybe."

"Your dad is welcome to come home with us," I say, mostly because it seems like I'm the one who's been handed the responsibility of granting such a right. "It's still his cabin." Not that Justin needs to be reminded of that.

"It'll be mine in four years," Oliver says proudly.

Justin ruffles Oliver's hair. A no-no, usually. But Oliver doesn't scowl, or fix it.

"I'm going to find a nurse to see what's supposed to happen next," I tell Oliver, then pull Klein from the bay.

We get a few feet down the hall, and then Klein says, "Boffing the brother, huh?"

"Shut up," I respond, looking around for the nurse who led us back here.

"There is a one hundred percent probability that I will say that to you for the rest of our lives."

"Followed by a one hundred percent probability that I will pinch your underarm skin." Two of my fingers form pinchers, and I reach for him.