Jada woke with a headache. Alcohol didn’t agree with her. She typically avoided it, but she’d needed a break from everything that was going on in her life. She had so many hard decisions to make, and the hardest decisions were those regarding Maya. She had to tell her daughter the truth. Putting it off was getting awkward and forcing her to create more lies to cover the ones she’d already told. She hated that but, at this point, if she told Maya who her father was, she could chase her right into his arms. What if Maya decided she wanted him to be a big part of her life? What if she was so angry over learning that her father hadn’t died in a motorcycle accident that she asked to move in with him?
Jada’s marriage had failed. Her entire family was screwed up because of what she did thirteen years ago taking Atticus to that party. And now her father was dead and she couldn’t even make amends. She’d had enough failures. She didn’t want to ruin the one great thing she did have—and that was her wonderful daughter. She didn’t like the idea of Maya being around Tobias once he got out of prison, or having anything to do with Maddox’s mother. She’d heard enough about Jill to understand that the woman had serious issues. No child should be subjected to what Maddox and his brother had known growing up. Truth be told, she wasn’t even sure Maddox would be good for Maya. Who could say what he was like these days? Aiyana seemed to like and trust him, but Aiyana tended to see the good in everyone.
“We definitely drank too much last night,” Tiffany said as she shuffled out of her bedroom, squinting against the sunlight streaming in through the windows.
Jada kicked off the blankets that covered her on the couch. Tiffany’s house was an old farmhouse located in a handy spot a block or so behind the natural foods store at one end of town, but it was small—barely eight hundred square feet. She had only three rooms—a kitchen/living room combo, one bedroom and one bath—so when Jada stayed over, she took the couch. “We should’ve stopped after the first bottle. I tried telling you.”
Tiffany chuckled. “Well, it was fun while it lasted,” she said as she went to the counter to put on a pot of coffee.
“Make it strong. I could use a caffeine drip right now.”
“Me, too.” She checked the clock above the sink, which Jada could see indicated it was nearly nine. “Aren’t you and Atticus going to the farmers’ market today?”
“No, I texted him last night to say we’ll go next week.”
“That was smart.” While waiting for the coffee, Tiffany gingerly made her way back and sank into the chair next to the couch. “How’d you sleep?”
“Like a rock. Thank goodness. You?”
“Didn’t even roll over. You know today’s the Fourth of July, right?”
“I knew it was coming up but sort of lost track of it last night.”
“You didn’t hear my neighbors setting off a few early firecrackers in the middle of the night?”
“I probably thought it was a figment of my imagination.”
Tiffany laughed. “So are you taking the day off, or do you have to work?”
“I have to work—at least until I take Maya to the park to watch the fireworks. I’m so behind.” She sighed as she raked her fingers through her hair. “I’m afraid I’m going to lose the rest of my clients, Tiff. I can’t keep up, not with helping at the store all the time, too.”
“You’re going to have to tell your mother.”
“But then she’ll try to manage the store all by herself. And she’s not well enough to do that.”
“She could have Atticus help.”
“She’s afraid to demand too much of him.”
Tiffany pursed her lips. “It would be tough, as a mother, to know whether to push him or just...let him do his thing.”
“She needs to push him. He’s capable. If he can do all the stuff he wants to do, he can work.”
“I suppose.” She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples for a moment before continuing. “So are you going to have a talk with her?”
“Yes, but now isn’t the time. With Maddox back in town, I’m all about trying to keep emotions on an even keel.”
Tiffany got up to pour the coffee. “Which means you have to handle your own business and your mother’s, too.”
“Yeah.” She felt a surge of guilt for putting herself even further behind by drinking and then sleeping in. “I’ll relieve her around two.”
A cupboard slammed as she got the cups out. “What’s Maya got going today?”
“She spent the night with Annie, but she texted me before bed to say she wants to come help at the store later on.”
“Not to change the subject, but...when’s your mother going to tell Atticus that Maddox is back?”
“That’s what I’d like to know.”
“Maybe you should do it.”
Jada scratched her head. Her mother wouldn’t appreciate her stepping in, but she was beginning to think the same thing. She was the one who’d taken him to that party. Maybe she should be the one to explain recent events. “I’m considering it.”
“Better to get it over with, in my mind.” Tiffany handed her a cup of coffee. “I have to run a few errands, but I was wondering if we could talk for a minute before we both drink our coffee and rush off.”
The tone of Tiffany’s voice, and her manner, suggested she was about to approach a difficult subject, but what could be more difficult than the problems they’d already discussed? “Of course.”
“I don’t quite know how to say this, because I don’t want you to think I’m only making things harder, or that I don’t care about your brother, because I do.”
Jada set her coffee on the table. “Okay...”
“Bear with me here, but when Tobias shot Atticus, he was only sixteen.”
“Yes. Everyone knows that.”
“He was also hallucinating.”
“According to what he said in court.”
“I was at that party, too.”
“I’m not arguing that he was high.”
“And yet they tried him as an adult and put him away for almost as long as he was alive before.”
“He did something else while he was incarcerated that got him more time. We don’t know what.”
“We also don’t know why, so I’m not sure we can judge him by the fact that they lengthened his sentence.”
Jada reclaimed her cup, hoping it would warm her fingers. They suddenly felt like blocks of ice even though it wasn’t cold in Tiffany’s house. “Which means...what exactly?”
“It means he’s paid a high price for his actions.”
Jada understood the tragedy of that, but loyalty made her defensive. “Not as high as my brother.”
“No, but to do something that terrible and to have to live with it would be the worst form of punishment—at least for me. He may get out of prison, but he’ll never escape that.”
Jada had to admit she agreed. She felt bad enough for bringing Atticus to the party, understood how that sort of regret could eat at a person. “So what are you getting at?”
Tiffany bit her lip. “I’d like to write him.”
“Tobias? Why?”
“Just to...I don’t know...tell him I understand he didn’t mean to do what he did, that even though I love you and Atticus, I don’t hate him.”
Sitting taller, Jada tried to read her friend’s expression. “Have you ever written him before?”
“No. I’ve considered it, many times, but whenever I pull out a sheet of paper and sit down to do it, I always feel like I’m betraying you and your family, so then I don’t.”
Jada stared into her cup.
“What are you feeling?” Tiffany asked.
“I appreciate the consideration, especially because you know about Maya, and if you ever said anything, it would destroy my life.”
“If that’s what you’re most worried about, you can relax. I would never tell anyone what I know.”
She looked up. “So what would you be hoping to achieve by reaching out to Tobias? You’re not trying to rekindle a relationship with him now that he’ll be getting out of prison...”
Tiffany’s eyebrows snapped together. “Of course not! I haven’t spoken to him in thirteen years. I have no idea what kind of man he is these days, but he is someone who had a rough childhood, who got involved with drugs before he was old enough to truly understand the consequences, and did something horrifying, for which he’s been in prison for a really long time. Atticus has you and your mother, and he had your father until he was full-grown. You rallied around him and are still doing all you can to help. Who has Tobias had? Only Maddox, who was almost the same age and couldn’t do a lot to help him. That’s sad. It makes me want to be kind in some way—but not if it’s going to hurt you.”
Jada took a cautious sip of her coffee. “It’s not that I’d mind if you were kind. I just... I wouldn’t want your kindness to bring him back to Silver Springs. It’s hard enough having Maddox here.”
“I wouldn’t say anything to entice him.”
The fact that Maddox had apologized made Jada feel as though his brother might be remorseful, too, which made it difficult to deny him what friendship he might receive.
“It’s what Aiyana would do, isn’t it?” Tiffany asked.
It was. Aiyana was a saint. But was she always right? “It’s a risk to draw his attention. He might not be contrite over what he’s done. He may not even care. Or he may blame me or my family, even though he’s the one who fired the gun. It could even be dangerous for you. What if he takes your letter as a romantic overture and shows up at your house?”
“It’s not like he’s necessarily become a monster. The boy he used to be certainly wasn’t. He was a little rough around the edges, even wild, but he was larger than life, too, and he had a kind heart.”
“So you want to take the risk.”
“I’m talking one letter, just to make the outside seem a bit friendlier after all he’s been through. It’s got to be hard to get out after so long.”
Jada nibbled on her bottom lip as she thought it over.
“Never mind. If you don’t want me to, I won’t,” Tiffany said.
“No. You’re right.” Jada finished her coffee and stood. “We need to do what we can to help him heal, just in case he is a good guy down deep. What happened that night has done enough damage.”
Tiffany came to her feet, too. “Really? You won’t mind?”
“Will you let me know if he responds?”
“Of course. I’ll even read it to you.”
“Okay.” At least maybe then they’d learn when he was scheduled to get out, what he did that lengthened his sentence and where he planned to go. That would be good information to have, if only to bring her peace of mind that he didn’t stab someone—or do something worse to have his sentence lengthened—while he was in there.
Jada went over to rinse her cup and took a few minutes to clean up the snacks and drinks they’d had the night before.
“Stop. I’ll get that.” Tiffany came over to catch her hands. “I’m worried about you. You’re under a lot of pressure.”
Jada forced a smile. “I knew the crisis I faced before would continue to ripple through my life. I just never dreamed it would create such big waves after thirteen years.”
Tiffany pulled her into a quick embrace. “No matter what happens, you’ve always got me.”
Drawing strength from Tiffany’s tight squeeze, Jada closed her eyes for a moment. “Thanks,” she said and meant it. But it was Maya she was worried about. When the truth came out, would she still have any of her daughter’s love and admiration?
After watching the fireworks at the park for the Fourth of July with her mom, Maya asked if she could spend the night with Annie again. Jada let her go over for an hour or so, since Annie’s family, along with all their neighbors, put on their own show, but she wouldn’t let her stay over until Sunday, and then they got to bed so late that she didn’t wake up until after ten the next morning. Even after she woke up, she had to wait for Annie to open her eyes.
“Do you think your mom will be able to drive us over to the high school today?” Maya asked as soon as her friend woke up.
Annie dragged her pillow farther under her head. “Maybe,” she murmured, her voice still thick with sleep.
“I hope so.” They’d been trying to get to the high school since they’d made the decision to check there. They had made it to the library, however. Annie’s father had taken them when he was off work last Wednesday, but they’d been sad to learn there was no such thing as a list of people who lived in the area. And even though the librarian was old and said she’d spent her whole life in Silver Springs, she didn’t remember a teenage boy called Madsen. She kept saying, “There was a Linda Madsen who lived here once, though,” as if it was the last name that mattered when it wasn’t.
“Should I go ask her?” Annie said.
Maya listened for movement in the house. She couldn’t hear any, but when she strained, she thought she could detect some music. “If that’s okay. Then I can call my mom and tell her when I’ll be at the store.”
“Can I go with you to help at the store?”
“Of course!”
“Yay!” She flung the covers off and crawled out of bed.
As she hurried downstairs, Maya could hear her yelling, “Mo-om? Mom, where are you?”
After a big yawn, Maya reached into her backpack beside the bed for her phone. Her mother had been hesitant to buy her a smartphone. Jada had said she was too young for it, that she had to be fourteen before she could have one. But when they left Eric, her mother was feeling so bad about taking Maya away from her home and her friends that she broke down and bought her one early, and Maya was glad. She liked having a phone and living in Silver Springs much better than not having a phone and living in LA.
She checked to see if her mother had tried to reach her this morning.
Nope. She had a text waiting, but it was from Eric, which seemed weird since the only other time they’d “talked” was right after she and her mom moved out, when she’d texted him to say she was sending an old jersey she’d been meaning to get back to her coach at school. He’d told her he’d take care of it, and that was it. It had always felt a little odd that their father/daughter relationship had dissolved so quickly and easily, as if it hadn’t been real to begin with.
How are you? How’s your mom?
She frowned at the message. Did he even care? He’d seemed more relieved than upset when they left. She’d heard him tell her mother that he was too much of a loner to make a good husband. Whatever that meant. Her mother didn’t seem to be asking for too much—that he stop drinking all the time, that he come home once in a while and that he show a little interest in his family.
Great, she wrote and held her breath when she saw the little ellipsis sign that indicated he was typing.
Do you like it in Silver Springs?
She glanced toward the door, but she couldn’t hear footsteps so doubted Annie was about to appear. I do. And Grandma really needs us. She’s sick a lot.
She waited to see if he’d say anything else. She didn’t want him to start being nice all of a sudden. She was afraid her mother would be tempted to go back to him. It was hard to live with Grandma and Uncle Atticus, since Grandma had to be the boss and acted like she was always mad at Jada, but it’d still been worse when they were living with Eric. At least Jada’s eyes didn’t look puffy every morning, as if she’d spent the night crying.
I’m glad you’re happy, he wrote.
Thanks.
She finally heard Annie coming up the stairs, so she took a final look at her phone—Eric seemed to be leaving it at that—and set it aside. “What’s wrong?” she asked as soon as she saw her friend’s bottom lip jutting out.
“My mom says she doesn’t have time to take us to the high school today. She has to help Aiyana Turner at New Horizons.”
Maya remembered the small Native American woman who’d come into the shop and bought a dozen cookies a few weeks ago. “Help her do what? Another fund-raiser?” Annie’s father made enough that Annie’s mother didn’t work, but she was always busy, helping a friend or a charity or a school.
“No, she’s going to set up the music room for the new girls’ section.”
“Set it up how?”
“Organize the instruments and see if they need to order more. That kind of stuff. She also wants to paint musical notes on the wall.”
“I know your mother was once the lead singer of a band, but I didn’t know she could paint.”
“My mom can do anything.”
Maya believed it. “So why are you sad?”
“Because I can’t go to the high school or the store with you. I have to go help her.”
Maya frowned. “Oh. Bummer. I was excited.”
“Me, too.”
“What time are you leaving? Should I call my mom and have her pick me up?”
“I guess—unless you want to go to New Horizons with us.” Annie gave her a pleading look. “My mom said you could come, too.”
Although she’d heard about New Horizons, she’d never been out to see the school. “Why not? I could always help at the cookie store another day. We have the whole rest of summer.”
“That’s true! Come with me!”
“Okay,” Maya said. “Let me text my mom.”
Jada caught her breath when she saw Maya’s message.
“What is it?” Atticus was sitting at the breakfast table, but Jada hadn’t made him breakfast. She’d gotten him out of bed so he could make her breakfast. She couldn’t baby him the way their mother did, or he’d never do anything.
She swallowed hard and set her phone down without answering. “Nothing.”
“I can tell by the look on your face that something’s upset you. What is it?”
He surprised her by grabbing for her phone, and since she’d just set it down, the lock mechanism hadn’t kicked in. He frowned as he read Maya’s text. “So she wants to help at New Horizons. Why would that make you go pale?”
She stood up so she could snatch her phone back. “I haven’t gone pale. I just... I need her help at the store today, that’s all.”
“We’ve been so busy you can’t handle it yourself?”
She scowled at the apparent sarcasm.
“God, I wish that was the case,” he added. “Maybe Mom would be able to relax.”
“Maybe she’d be able to relax if you got a job,” Jada said and then almost covered her mouth. She’d been meaning to talk to her brother about being more productive and trying to contribute, but she hadn’t planned to blurt it out like that. It was the pressure of everything going on that had her out of sorts.
He gaped at her. “Are you serious right now?”
Knowing her daughter was expecting an answer, Jada glanced between her phone and the shocked and angry expression on her brother’s face. “I’m totally serious,” she said. “If not now, when?”
“Who’s going to want to hire me?” he cried.
“There might be a lot of people.”
“Right. They’ll be lining up at the door!”
“Atticus, there’s still a lot you can do.”
“And make what...minimum wage?”
“Why not? Isn’t that where most people start when they first enter the workforce? Why should you be any different?”
“I can’t believe this! That you, of all people, would lay into me.”
Because it was her fault he was in a wheelchair. She got what he was saying, and it cut deeply. But how long could she go on trying to atone? She couldn’t change the past, couldn’t change reality. She could only try to forge a path forward, and she needed him to carry as much of his own weight as possible for that path to be manageable for both her and their mother. “I’m doing all I can,” she said. “I’m just saying I could use your help.”
“So I should go out and see if I can get a job at some fast-food joint where I can’t navigate around the other workers or manage the tight space where they cook? Or should I apply to be the disabled greeter at the closest Walmart?”
“There’s no shame in whatever work you do. At least you won’t be wasting your life playing video games! It’s time to grow up, Atticus. You’re not a child anymore.” She was shaking but so was he. Had she already gone too far, just when she’d decided that she wouldn’t upset him for the time being?
She was terrified he’d end up hating her, and her mother would blame her for wrecking his life once again. But she couldn’t see a better alternative than pushing him to improve his life—and help others along the way. Pitying him to the point that they demanded nothing of him wasn’t going to make him happy.
“You have some nerve!” he snapped and threw his spoon at the wall, where it made a small dent and fell to the floor as he left his oatmeal uneaten and wheeled himself back to his room.
Jada heard his door slam just as her phone rang. She hadn’t answered Maya’s text, so Maya was calling to ask for permission.
Tears filled Jada’s eyes as she stared down at Maya’s picture. She was in such a mess. What was she going to do?
Because she didn’t trust her voice, she let Maya’s call go to voice mail so she could reply via text. But Maya called back before she could get it finished and sent.
This time, Jada answered on the first ring. “No, you can’t go to New Horizons,” she said without preamble. “I’m on my way to pick you up.”
“But I didn’t even get to ask!” Maya said, obviously offended by Jada’s brusque tone.
“I got your text.”
“You never responded.”
“I was trying to.”
“Oh. So why can’t I go?”
Jada struggled to keep her voice steady. “You said you were going to help at the store.”
“That was before, when Annie was planning to come with me. Now she has to help her mom set up the music room at New Horizons—that school on the edge of town where the bad kids go?”
“They aren’t all bad,” she said.
“I thought it was a ‘corrective’ school.”
“It is, but sometimes kids who are bad act out only in certain situations or because—Oh, never mind.” She felt defensive of Maddox, who’d gone to the school, but how could she honestly defend him after what’d happened? “It just won’t work out today.”
“Even though I don’t have anything else to do?”
Atticus’s music came on, so loud it shook the walls.
“Mom?”
Jada could hear her daughter’s confusion and tried to act a little less upset. “It’s just not a good day, honey. I could use your help, okay?”
Maya hesitated as though she’d continue to press, but something about Jada’s voice must’ve changed her mind because she said, “Is this about Eric? Did he call you?”
Her ex-husband? Jada found it ironic that he had once been such a source of unhappiness to her. Since they’d split up, she hardly thought of him. “No. Why?”
There was another pause.
“Maya?”
“No reason.”
Leaving the rest of her breakfast uneaten, Jada got up to grab her purse and keys. “I’m on my way.”
“What’s that noise in the background?”
Jada drew a deep breath. “It’s Imagine Dragons. I got into a little disagreement with your uncle Atticus.”
“Oh. Now I get why you’re in such a bad mood. What happened? He won’t help at the store?”
Jada had only ever mentioned her opinion on how Atticus ran his life to Tiffany, and yet Maya had caught on, without hearing a word. She was so smart. That was partly why Jada was running scared. Maya wasn’t a little girl anymore; she was becoming more and more perceptive all the time. “No, he won’t help.”
“Are you sure he can, Mom?”
Doubt welled up. Was she wrong for saying what she did? She hated to think she’d misjudged the situation, but she’d seen what Atticus could do, how strong his upper body was and how he could maneuver when he really wanted to. “He’s not helpless,” she said and, after a quick goodbye, disconnected.
Jada had no idea how long it would take her brother to speak to her again. Her mother would probably also be upset by what she’d said, especially if Atticus lapsed into depression. And now Maya was asking to go to New Horizons, where her father, who she thought was dead, worked.
Jada shook her head as she dug her keys from her purse. How was she going to keep her life from spinning even more out of control?