But it’s a good hurt because when did anyone ever say that to me? I’ll never, ever leave you. The sob explodes out of me and I grab on to her, my feet slipping on the wet asphalt until we reel against Joe’s truck. I’m sure he thinks we’re both crazy, but it doesn’t matter. Aunt Gabby runs her hands through my sodden hair, and I cling. I cling.
“I never knew about you, Sage. I wish I had, but I didn’t grow up with your father. By the time the state told me about you, you had already been through so much. I’ve tried so hard to show you—”
“I was always afraid you took me in because you felt sorry for me. And that if I did anything wrong, you’d get fed up and send me back.”
“Forget that shit,” she snaps. “You’re my daughter in all ways but biology, and I will never give you up … or give up on you. Now … are you ready to go home?”
I swipe rain and tears out of my eyes, then step back and swing onto my bike. Gabby tells Joe, “Meet us at the house, okay? Run a hot bath and make some tea.”
“You got it,” he replies.
I kind of love him right then because most men would try to assert their will, convince me how stupid I’m being. And I know that I am. I know. But the heart isn’t logical. You can’t force it to make sense all the time. Sometimes only the dumbest thing in the world can give you any peace.
He kisses Gabby and climbs back into the truck. Then I push off on the wet road and pedal hard into the wind. That rush propels me to the top of a small rise, and when I sail down it, I lift my palms to the night sky, remembering that Shane thought I was fearless, instead of a girl governed by silent dread.
“Be careful,” my aunt shouts.
I put my icy hands back on the handlebars. There’s eight miles to go. And like she promised, Aunt Gabby is behind me every step of the way.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Joe is waiting for us with hot tea, soft blankets, and a tub full of warm water. He doesn’t yell at me. He just says, “I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t worry your aunt like that again.”
“I’ll try not to,” I say.
I take my mug to the bathroom, undress, and climb into the water. For what seems like an hour, I soak, then I remember that Gabby is cold, too. But when I hurry out, wrapped in my robe, I find that she’s already changed clothes.
“We need to talk,” she says.
“I know.” I sit down on the sofa.
There’s no avoiding this lecture. I deserve it. So I listen to everything she says about how scared they were, how she never wants to feel that way again. And she ends with, “You know, I always wanted kids. But I didn’t have any with my ex, so I thought it was too late. Then I found out about you, and it’s the best of both worlds. I get to watch you turn into a wonderful woman, and I’ll get all of the grandchildren, none of the potty training.”
This surprises a watery laugh out of me. “Don’t count on them too soon.”
“Ten to fifteen years?” she suggests.
“Sounds about right.”
Then my aunt sobers. “Obviously, you’re grounded. Two weeks, nothing but school and work.”
“What about Green World?”
“I can’t say no to community service. But no sleepovers, no visitors, no movies out, no hanging in the square, and I want your phone.”
Jesus. She’s really mad. But I don’t argue; I just hand over my cell. “I’m sorry.”
“Did it help? Did Shane’s dad listen?”
I sigh. “Doubt it.”
Joe comes out of the kitchen and sits down next to my aunt. Around me, he’s pretty quiet, letting her do most of the talking. I appreciate that because I wouldn’t be amused if he suddenly started acting like my dad. “I think it’s time, Gabby.”
“Tonight? Really?”
“She’s stronger than you give her credit for,” he says. “The girl rode a hundred miles today. She can handle it.”
It’s true; I did. I can barely walk, barely sit, actually. The cushions help. “Whatever it is, just tell me. I heard you talking on the phone before, anyway.”
“Okay.” My aunt gets up and goes to her room. When she comes back, she’s wearing a diamond ring on her left hand. “Joe proposed.”