Page 226

"So this isn't just about the salary."

"No."

She nods.

"That's why this is so hard."

The rain has held off for a couple of days and it’s unusually warm for the season, so early evening finds us all down by the river.

Blankets cover a stretch of grass near the bank, and everyone settles into their own version of relaxing. Lucy is engrossed in gathering interesting rocks and arranging them in careful rows, certain she’s discovered the remains of an ancient civilization. Briggs accepts the claim without hesitation and is now helping catalogue the collection with the seriousness of a museum curator.

"This one is clearly ceremonial," he says, holding up an ordinary gray rock.

Lucy nods gravely. "I thought so too."

Torin sits nearby with a sketchbook balanced on one knee, occasionally glancing up before adding another line to the page. Ashby has a book open, though every few minutes I catch him looking over the top of it to check where everyone is.

Maggie sits beside me, her legs stretched out in front of her, listening to Lucy spar with Briggs about proper artifact storage.

The river drifts past in front of us, reflecting the last of the sunlight. Across the bank, a few people have gathered near the water, their conversations carrying faintly through the evening.

Lucy throws her hands into the air, demonstrating some important point.

"You see?" Lucy asks.

Briggs nods. "I do see."

"Then why are you trying not to laugh?"

"That’s harder to explain.”

Lucy giggles and hugs his neck. “Funny bear.”

“Grrrr.” His big arms enclose her gently, rocking her from side to side.

Maggie laughs under her breath and shakes her head.

Then her smile eases.

"Do you think she'll be okay?" she asks, worry in her eyes.

I reach over and take her hand, squeezing it. "Yes. I do."

Maggie threads her fingers through mine and turns back to watch her daughter. "What if I screw this up?"

“You were never the one who screwed up, Maggie. You’re a great mom. Lucy adores you. You’re going to be fine.”

Maggie's eyes shine for a second before she blinks the emotion away. "Well. That's inconveniently sweet."

"I have my moments."

She bumps her shoulder against mine affectionately, and my chest fills with warmth.

Across the river, a bonfire sparks to life. A few cheers follow, drifting through the trees while dusk settles over the water.

I look around at the people around me scattered in various attitudes across the blankets.

Lucy and Briggs are heavily engrossed in uncovering new archaeological discoveries. Much to my amusement, Ashby has given up pretending to read and apparently joined their quest as official recorder. He’s hunkered down, notebook open, writing down everything Lucy tells him to. Torin is sucking the end of his pencil in midair while staring thoughtfully at the flames across the water.