Page 54 of All the way home

Trying not to let on how thoroughly Angie has charmed him, Zach says, “That’s right.”

“Dillan was from Mommy’s tummy,” she tells them. “But I’m ’dopted and Maeve is gonna be too. But she loves us the same.”

Next to them, scanning the board, Kieran goes still. He opens his mouth as if to speak, then gives his head a little shake and flexes his fingers.

“Is she nice?” Kieran asks Angie. “Your mommy?”

Gravely, she nods. “Yes.”

“You’re happy?”

If Angie notices the visible strain in his question, she doesn’t ask, just tucks her bottom lip between her teeth and juts her chin out when she nods.

“Good.” Giving his head a little shake, Kieran rechecks the board and then turns to Zach. Voice lowered once more, he says, “There are two other Toronto flights. A6 and D31, and D31’s just around the corner.”

Doubtfully, Zach asks, “D’you think we should split up?”

“Probably?” Kieran leads them around the corner to D31. “I imagine her mom’s running around, retracing her steps. We’re more likely to find her if we split up.”

“A6,” Zach clarifies, and at Kieran’s nod, turns to Angie. “Wanna come hang out with me?”

Leaning out, using Zach’s arm, Angie lets her full body weight hang. “Sure.”

“What’s your mom’s name?” Kieran asks her.

Singsong, Angie says, “Sara.”

“Okay.” Turning on his heel, Kieran walks away, and then he swings back around at the last moment. To Zach, he says, “I’ll come back in twenty minutes if I don’t see her.”

Zach nods. Then, not watching Kieran go, he leans against a pillar to let Angie have the only seat he can find at the gate.

Naturally, she doesn’t take it. Instead, she plays hopscotch with an imaginary board, chattering on and on about the kids in her class, most of whom Zach can’t keep track of. After about ten minutes, Zach checks his phone, realizing after a moment that he doesn’t even have Kieran’s number to ask for updates.

Angie is on him like a bloodhound. “Do you have games on your phone?”

“Just Tetris,” he says. “And Minesweeper.”

“Oh, Dillan showed me those,” she says, sounding so hopeful that he hands over his phone with a begrudging smile.

She is . . . not good. But Zach sinks down onto the ground and watches with rapt attention anyway, if only for the way she keeps turning to him hopefully. Three minutes in, she abandons her seat entirely to lean her—sharp—elbow on his thigh.

“Angie!”

They both jump.

Sure enough, Sara is exactly like Angie had described, just as Zach remembers, except with more tears involved. Kieran walks a few paces behind as Sara rushes forward, smiling.

Angie scrambles to her feet, game forgotten. “Mommy!”

“Oh, my girl.” Sara crouches, opening her arms, turning so Angie doesn’t knock into the baby—Maeve—and burying her face in Angie’s neck, her next words muffled into her skin.

“Nice.” Pocketing his phone and scrambling off the ground as Kieran approaches, Zach instinctively extends his hand for the fist-bump he’d give Mara. Then he wants to melt into the carpet. A fist-bump? Really?

But Kieran just knocks his knuckles against Zach’s with a smile.

“Thank you,” Sara gushes, standing up and practically squeezing the life out of him with half of her body.

“No problem.” As Sara releases him, Zach gives Angie a little smile, trying not to freak out about this much contact from a virtual stranger.