Page 91 of Dandelions and Smoke

“I’m coming too, and you’re paying for it.” Billy nods toward Blake.

“Wait a minute. Why am I paying for it?”

“Because I’m cashing in my IOU.” Billy grins, and Blake’s jaw drops.

“Dude, that was over a year ago.”

“Don’t matter.” Billy shrugs. “IOU’s don’t expire, and you got the girl, so pay up.”

“Un-freaking-believable,” Blake mumbles.

I shake my head, not sure what they’re talking about, but adding Billy to the passenger list regardless.

“Ah shit,” Tris groans, rolling her eyes as she crosses her arms. “No one’s going anywhere without me. You’ve all proven you need a babysitter and someone to make sure you don’t mess everything up.”

“Then it’s settled.” Billy rubs his hands together and wiggles his brows. “Let’s book some flights, make some phone calls, and bring home our girl.”

Adding Tris to the passenger list, I hit purchase, and my stomach flips.

We’re really doing this.

I call Levi and make him the Acting Chief in my absence while Tris lets Ainsley know the plan. After a chat with Callie, she agrees to cover the shifts that Tris will be missing. While we take care of the logistics here, Blake texts Lettie and Lucas, letting them know to expect us tomorrow but not to mention it to Rory. None of us want her to run before we’ve had the opportunity to let her know where we stand and how much she means to us. I’ll get my son back, but not at the expense of losing her. She may think this is what’s best, but a life without her isn’t and never will be what’s best for me.

By this time tomorrow, I pray that I’ll be able to convince her of that too.

TWENTY

RORY

As a little girl, I often spent much of my time alone. Because of my mother’s drinking, we never lived in a single place for very long, our stays getting shorter and shorter as the years went on. Back then, she still had her light, that spark that told me she wasn’t always the person that she became. She would smile for my sake and pretend that we were going on our next adventure whenever it was time to move on again.

One day, we stopped at a park, the car packed with all our belongings as it had been so many times before, and I asked her where we were headed next. She brushed her hand over my head and crouched down beside me, cupping my cheek. While I sat amongst the wildflowers, she picked a dandelion.

“Have I ever told you about what makes a dandelion so special?” she asks, in a way that seems so magical and captivating.

I shake my head, excited for her to share with me what feels like a secret only meant for us.

“Well.” She tilts her head, grinning as she starts to whisper. “They want us to believe they’re not really flowers”

She looks at me and makes a funny face. Her eyebrows rise, and she smiles a little as if to say, ‘Isn’t that silly?’

“But they are flowers, Mommy,” I argue with certainty.

I chuckle even now thinking about it. I was ready to argue, but my mother smiled, quieting me without saying a word.

“I know, but not everyone agrees. They say they don’t belong, that they shouldn’t be here.”

Her eyes get shiny, and when she notices my eyebrows pinch together, she gently pulls me onto her lap.

“But guess what?” she says, blinking quickly. “Dandelions are survivors.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, baby. And when they’re ready, they can go anywhere they want and make it their home.”

She holds the dandelion out in front of her and, with one breath, blows its seeds into the air as I sit, watching with wonder as the wind takes them away.

“Wow,” I whisper, before I’m struck with a thought. “Mommy, are we like dandelions?”