Page 107 of Summer with the Single Dad

“You’ve got to take risks once in a while.”

“My mom died in a car on the way to the airport for a girls’ weekend. That wasn’t even risky, but people who take risks die all the time. They leave their kids, their husbands, and their families behind. Did you hear about the boy in Seattle who was skateboarding at his school after the bell rang? He tried to jump a rail, fell, hit his head, and died.”

Justine’s bottom lip dropped open, and she stared at Emme, who said what she said with the most blasé tone and like it was matter-of-fact.

“Emerson, look at me.”

Emme was chewing her bagel, but glanced up at Justine.

Justine removed the bottle of kombucha from the little girl’s hand and put it between them on the bench. Then she took Emerson’s hand in hers. “Where did you read or hear this?”

“Some kids at school were talking about it. I guess the kid that died is like the cousin of the cousin of one of the boys in sixth grade at my school. So we had a big discussion as a class about bike and skateboard safety, and the importance of wearing helmets. But all the old people I see riding their bikes on the island don’t wear helmets.”

This was a lot to unpack. They went from risking trying a new flavor of kombucha to a kid dying from hitting his head. And yes, Justine had heard that story. Tad was actually the neurosurgeon who operated on the poor kid, but his brain bleed was too severe and he was pronounced brain-dead. It was a truly tragic story, and one that rocked the entire hospital.

“There are different kinds of risks. Different levels. We risk our lives everyday getting in vehicles, walking on the road. Even eating, because we could choke. But those are pretty unlikely risks. And they’re worth the reward. Trying a new kombucha? You’re just risking disappointment. It’s a pretty small deal. A pretty small and safe risk. And who knows, you might like another flavor better.”

“But they cost money. I don’t want to waste my money on something I don’t like. Dad says that’s dumb.”

Justine exhaled. “To an extent, he’s right. But life is about taking some risks. Some risks can be really rewarding.”

“Like what?”

“Well … telling someone you love them for the first time can be risky. What if they don’t say it back?”

“That would not be fun.”

“No. But if they say it back then …?”

“That’s good.”

“Exactly. The same goes for falling in love. Maybe you’ll get your heart broken and break up, or maybe you’ll stay together forever. But you have to be willing to take the risk.”

She nodded like she understood.

“Some risks need to be thought about longer before they’re done. Like maybe that kid wasn’t ready for the trick he was trying on his skateboard and he shouldn’t have taken the risk. He should have worked his way up to trying that. I also don’t think he was wearing a helmet. He took a big risk.”

“And he died.”

“He did. Yes. And it’s incredibly sad. But that doesn’t mean you should stop taking some of your own risks. Safer risks.”

Now, Emme didn’t look so sure.

“All right. Stand up.”

Emme looked at her with confusion.

“Stand up. Come on.”

Emme stood up and followed Justine back to Booch and Bagels.

There was one other person ahead of them, so they had to wait, but only for thirty seconds.

Siobhan’s gray eyes widened with surprise. “Back again?”

“We will take one of every flavor of your kombucha, please,” Justine said, digging her credit card out of her wallet.

“That’s twenty-three flavors,” Siobhan said with hesitation. “You do know how much that is going to cost, right?”

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