Page 95 of Freefall

I blink back to the present.

“I’m fine, Mom, really. It’s been a rough week, but nothing a little wine and a movie can’t fix.”

She picks up the empty mugs and sets them on the tray, her thumb tracing the small crack running through one of them. “What if…” She looks into the other room, then back at me, her voice dropping to a whisper. “What if I gave you the night off? Daisy could sleep here. I’ll make up the guest room, and you could go out…or stay home and watch a movie. Whatever sounds good.”

I shift in my chair. My instinct is to say no. In the eight years since Daisy was born, we’ve never spent a night apart.

“I don’t know.”

Mom stops fiddling with the mug. “You’re right next door if we need anything.” She smiles. “Which we won’t.”

“I know, but…” I twist the hem of my sweater between my fingers. “She’s been climbing into my bed in the middle of the night lately.”

Which is only half-true. She hasn’t come into my bed once since the night Nate stayed with her. Something clicked for her that night, as if she finally decided this was her home.

“So?” Mom shrugs. “She can come into our bed. Your father is such a heavy sleeper that he won’t even notice until morning.”

“But what if she wants me?”

“Then we’ll call you. Anyway, I owe you a night of babysitting. Weren’t you supposed to get together with some friends the other night?”

The guilt over yet another lie grabs at my chest. I had told my mom I didn’t need her to babysit for girls’ night because it got canceled, and then prayed she didn’t see Nate’s car in the driveway.

“Yeah—” I’m about to make another excuse when an excited squeal comes from the next room.

“Pleeease, Mommy! I want to have a sleepover at Grandma and Grandpa’s.”

I swear that girl has superhuman hearing.

“Okay. Fine.” I point a finger at my mom. “But promise me you’ll call if she needs anything.”

My mother has already taken away the plate with my half-eaten scone on it and is now standing, waiting for me to follow. “We’ll be fine, Harper. Now go on.”

“Just like that?” I stand, and my mom starts ushering me to the door. “Can I at least say goodbye?”

“If you must,” she says, feigning annoyance, but the smile tugging at her lips gives her away. It’s the kind that crinkles the corners of her eyes.

When I get to the living room, my dad and Daisy are already posted up on the couch, watching a National Geographic special about the flight patterns of monarch butterflies.

“Grandpa said we could make sundaes after dinner!” Daisy announces the second she spots me.

I shoot my dad a look, and he shrugs. “Nothing wrong with a little ice cream.”

I turn back to Daisy. “Are you sure you’ll be okay here without me?”

She rolls her eyes in that dramatic way only an eight-year-old can. “Yes, Mommy. I’m not little anymore. I can have a sleepover.”

I give her a thin smile, bending down to kiss the top of her head. “You can call me if you need anything at all. Even if it’s in the middle of the night. Grandma has my number.”

“Okay,” she chirps, already trying to peek around me at the TV.

“One sundae and no soda,” I tell my dad.

He holds up his hands. “You have my word.”

The man loves his root beer, but I guess we all have our vices.

Reluctantly, I hug my mom goodbye and make the short walk back to the guest house.