Page 37 of Sweeter Than Fiction

“Did you have to buy that thing its own seat on the plane?” She asks.

“No.” I pause for a second. “I bought it at the airport when I landed.”

“That little girl does not need another stuffed animal. Right now, she has enough to build her own version of the arc.”

I laugh. “Good. Maybe she can be a savior when the entire world goes to shit.”

“Listen to you! New York has made you cynical.”

“Oh, you know I’m just kidding.”

I look over at my mom as she navigates her way out of the airport traffic. For as long as I can remember, my mom has looked exactly the same. Auburn color hair that’s usually pulled up into a loose bun with her bangs hanging down in front. She never wore a lot of makeup, but she always had some sort of crazy earrings on that went along with whatever bright outfit of the day she was rocking. I think people around town always thought her a bit of an oddball, but really, she was just always super positive. Anything bad that life threw at us, she would always try to see the silver lining.

With her around, it made it easy to be grateful for what we had. Despite how much she worked, she always managed to find time to play with us. Even if we couldn’t afford the nicest of toys, she would spend hours helping us turn old cardboard boxes into race cars or spaceships. Sometimes, she’d go thrifting and find us old toys that she would then repaint and make seem brand new again.

Even now, with more money in the bank, she still spoils Kaylee with her time and effort rather than gifts and material things. While Jill and her husband work, our mother gets to watch her grandbaby all day long. Any time I call or video chat with her during the day, they’re always having tea parties with stuffed animal friends or pretending they are going on an adventure through the Amazon Rainforest.

I always knew she would be an awesome grandma. I hope one day, she can do the same for my kids—although I haven’t thought about how that whole plan will work if I decide to stay in New York permanently.

Like I need to be thinking about that at all right now. I am nowhere even close to that stage in my life.

Mom asks, “What’s wrong? Why do you seem so quiet?”

“Just tired, I guess. Sorry. Work’s been a little crazy lately.”

“You don’t need to be sorry, Donovan. I get it. You’re building a whole dang apartment building. I’d be worried if you didn’t say things were crazy.”

She’s always so understanding.

“What else has been going on in your life?”

“Oh, just the usual. Been hanging out with my neighbor a lot.”

“Well, that’s nice,” she says with a smile. “It’s nice that you have a friend.”

Although I’m happy as hell to be home to see my family, I still am going to miss my evenings with Abby. Somehow, she’s become a pretty big part of my day. When we don’t hang out, I find myself wishing that we were.

There’s just something so real and so good about her that makes me cherish our time together. I haven’t found a lot of that since I’ve been in New York, so I know not to take advantage of it with Abby.

I don’t explain to my mom how my friend is a girl or any of the other thoughts running through my head. Right now just doesn’t seem like the time. Besides, I don’t really know what exactly I’d say.

Hey, there’s a girl that I’m not sleeping with, but I enjoy spending all my free time with her. I have no idea what any of it means.

It sounds insane even in my own head.

Instead, I decide to change the subject and ask Mom how things have been going with her. She tells me all about her days with Kaylee and how she just started a new, bigger garden out back. I listen to every word because I know that she doesn’t have a lot of people to talk to. Sure, she talks to Jill, but I know sometimes, she feels like she’s burdening us if she shares too much of her life or problems.

Which is ridiculous.

She gave us life. We can give her some undivided attention.

When we reach Jill’s house, I pull the giant bear out from the backseat and start walking it up to the door. Knowing she has a doorbell camera, I position the bear so that it will be the only thing visible when Jill gets the notification on her phone.

Immediately, I hear her voice come over the speaker. “Donovan, you better tell me that you have a new fetish for stuffed animals because there’s no way that thing is staying here.”

The next thing we hear is Kaylee saying, “What’s a fetish?”

And then my sister’s exasperated sigh. “Great. Come on in, guys. The door is unlocked.”

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