Page 28 of For Fox Sake

She’s a good mom. An aunt mom, according to Ari. I definitely want more information on that. Where’s Ari’s dad?

“Thank you for helping with all the cleanup. And for Ari’s gifts.”

I managed to grab her some clothes and then stumbled across a book, The Velveteen Rabbit, in the toy section. It came with a plush rabbit. I shouldn’t have grabbed it. I almost didn’t. But it was one of Aria’s favorites. She’d even had the same Velveteen Rabbit stuffed animal. Without even meaning to, my hand reached for it and tucked it under my arm with the other items. I just had to get it.

“It’s not a problem at all. I’m sure you’re exhausted, and I truly have nothing else going on. My big plans tonight would have involved sitting on my porch alone. At least now I have good company.”

I lift the juice box in her direction, and she taps her own against it with a laugh.

She settles back in the seat, taking a deep breath and shutting her eyes while the flames dance in a honeyed glow over her features.

Her dark hair has been scraped back into a short ponytail. She washed her face and changed into sweats while she was getting Ari ready for bed. She must be exhausted. And yet attraction sizzles in the air between us, like a rope I could reach out and tug on.

We sit in silence for a minute, while fire crackles and the wind rustles in the leaves overhead.

I almost don’t want to ruin it. But this is also an opportunity to get some answers to questions that have been plaguing me since my conversation with Ari yesterday morning.

“It was a good party.”

She opens her eyes, her head rolling toward me. “It was great. I am so glad it’s over.”

“It’s got to be hard, doing all of this yourself.”

One shoulder shrugs. “I have Bernie. And you helped me clean up so not too much work at all.” Her gaze narrows. “Was that your sneaky way of asking where Ari’s father is?”

The corner of my mouth tugs up. “Partially. I was curious because Ari mentioned something yesterday about you being aunt mommy?”

She nods once. “Right. Ari is technically my niece. Mia was Ari’s mom.”

The pieces realign in my head. Ari just turned six, and on the memorial in the hospital, Mia died almost six years ago. Wait— “She died giving birth to Ari?”

She winces, glancing toward the back door. “Yes, but it was because of her heart condition. She knew the risks when she found out she was pregnant. But she wanted Ari more than anything in this world. No one could convince her otherwise.”

“The dad didn’t want to be involved?”

She sighs, her head leaning back against the back of the chair. “Mia never said who he was. She went to some conference for the hospital and hooked up with someone. It was a one-night stand. I think he was a doctor or something, maybe even married. She would just say he wasn’t available.”

“Have you ever thought about trying to find him?”

Her brows dip. “It might be bad of me, but I don’t really want to know. What if he wants to take her? I couldn’t handle that. And maybe it would ruin his life, if he’s married. He doesn’t live here, I know that much, and I couldn’t bear to part with her. Is that wrong?”

I shake my head. “No. You’re doing the best you can.”

She gives a half shrug. “Maybe when she gets old enough, I’ll let her decide. We can do one of those genetic match sites or whatever. I just, I have enough right now on my plate, and losing Mia was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to go through. I couldn’t handle losing Ari too. But you understand. You lost a sister. How did she pass? If you don’t mind me asking?”

I swallow. I never talk about it. My chest gets tight and heavy, throat closing up. But somehow the words push their way through. “It was a car accident.”

She winces.

And then even though my trachea is probably a pinpoint, the words keep coming.

“We were in the car together when it happened.”

There’s a long pause. I stare up at the night sky, focusing on a wispy cloud passing over the moon, unable to bring myself to look at her.

“Well, fuck,” she says.

A surprised laugh barks out of me. I turn my head to meet her gaze. “That might be the most appropriate response ever.”

---