Page 71 of Dandelions and Smoke

Her smile wavers, and she blinks a little too quickly as she tries to fight back tears pooling in her eyes.

“Okay,” she finally says with a breathless laugh. “Now that that’s all sorted out.”

Tris returns to our table with our food, and Rory asks her how it’s going with the last of the renovations at the house that Levi has been working on for months now.

“It’s been chaotic driving back and forth there, but we’re all ready to be done living out of a hotel now—especially Ellie,” Tris stresses the last two words.

“Aw, poor pup.” Rory’s bottom lip pops out. “I’m sure she’ll be happy when she has her yard back.”

“And I’ll be happy when I finally have a home office for Ellie’s Biscuits to work out of,” she adds.

Before Tris is called to another table, I eat quietly while they chat, thinking about the phone call from earlier again. I must appear distracted because Rory’s brows furrow as she picks up on the shift in my mood.

“Is something wrong?” she asks, fidgeting with the spoon in her tea. “Was it what I said? Because if you’re having second thoughts about it, I can pretend like I never told you that and we can go back to how it was before.”

She presses her lips together to stop herself as my thoughts play catch-up, trying to understand what it is she’s saying.

My hand finds her arm before I even think about it, steadying her as I shake my head.

“No.” The word leaves me with unwavering certainty, and her shoulders relax. “Absolutely not. You got it?”

She nods, watching me carefully. “Then what is it?”

With a deep breath, I set my coffee down and give her the highlights of my conversation with Jasenia, leaving out the parts hinting at exactly how bad her postpartum depression became. It’s not because I don’t want her to know, but because it feels too personal and isn’t my business to share.

But it is, a voice in my mind whispers. The way it’s affected me is.

I focus on Jasenia’s loose promise to check her schedule and figure out when I can see Scout instead.

“That’s what we want, right?” Rory says with a soft, encouraging lilt in her voice that makes me feel hopeful.

Her use of the word ‘we’ has me squeezing her arm before returning my hands to my lap as the fear and doubt sink in.

“It feels scary to hope,” I admit, my voice lowering, not to be dramatic, but honest.

I look around the cafe, needing to take a beat as these conflicting emotions war inside me. It must be lunchtime because the cafe is starting to fill with families and kids home for their winter break. Among the crowd of people are Callie and Tom. They walk in, pushing Sunny in her stroller, followed by Tom’s sister Ali, who carries her son in her arms while her three daughters, Lily, Iris, and Violet, run into the cafe past her. With them is Hank’s grandson Shane, playing with Violet and making the younger kids laugh. They don’t notice us right away, so I watch with quiet envy, wishing it could be this easy for me and my own family.

“Hope isn’t what’s scary,” Rory says, pulling my attention back to her. Her voice softens, almost like she hadn’t meant to say the words out loud. “It’s the disappointment that comes after wishing for something for so long, only to realize you’ll never have it.”

I follow her gaze, noticing how she watches Tom with Sunny before continuing.

“I would have given anything for a father who wanted to be in my life. I spent years trying to find him, imagining what it would be like to finally meet him, only for him to say, ‘I never wanted you. You were never supposed to be born.’ Nice, right? I thought Blake was going to kill him.” She smiles like a reflex, one learned to make others more comfortable, then lets it drop.

“Hope is what keeps our dreams alive. It’s what breathes life into them when we’ve all but given up. Don’t lose that and certainly don’t ever let anyone take it from you.”

She lets her words linger, stretching the last ones just enough to make them feel unfinished. Everything she’s implying settles over me. I can’t give up hope that I’ll see my son again and be a part of his life. I can’t, and I won’t let Jasenia keep him from me.

Pressure builds behind my eyes, and I shift my focus to the cup in my hands, not actually seeing it as I try to rein in my emotions that now feel sharp enough to draw blood. Once my vision has cleared and I can trust my voice not to shake, I shift my attention back to her.

“What about your hope? What about your dreams?” I ask, ready to move mountains if that’s what it takes.

“I dreamed of having a family, of having somewhere I belonged.” This time, when she smiles, it’s real, not a performance or for my benefit. “Nothing happened the way I dreamed it would, but I have more than I could ever hope for right here.”

Emotion floods her eyes, making them shine as she looks away.

“So,” she says, changing the subject with a forced brightness. “What would you like to do today?”

FIFTEEN