Page 41 of Finders Keepers

I take a deep breath, trying to center myself. My anxiety is a familiar weight, pressing against my ribs, making each breath feel shallow. I can barely focus on the conversation as it continues around me—Ms. Lucy talking about her garden plans for the fall, Jake mentioning something about fence repairs, Gavin sharing a story about a stubborn goat he treated last week.

I should be participating, should be smiling and nodding at the right moments. But my mind keeps racing, replaying every decision that led me here.

I sneak a glance at Sophie and notice she’s gone quiet. Her little hand pushes spaghetti around her plate, her earlier enthusiasm dimmed. She’s always been so attuned to my moods, picking up on my anxiety like it’s a scent in the air. The realization sends a pang of guilt through me.

“You okay, baby?” I whisper, leaning closer to her.

She looks up at me and nods, but I can see the uncertainty there. My sweet, sensitive girl, always trying to be brave.

I reach over and take her small hand in mine, giving it a gentle squeeze. Her fingers curl around mine immediately, holding on tight.

“Everything’s good,” I whisper, just for her. “Mommy’s just thinking too much.”

Sophie’s lips quirk up in a small smile and I brush a strand of blonde hair from her forehead.

The simple contact with her grounds me, pulls me back from the edge of my spiraling thoughts. I focus on the warmth of her hand.

I take another deep breath, this one reaching deeper into my lungs. The conversation continues around us, but now it feels less like waves threatening to pull me under and more like a gentle current I can choose to step into when I’m ready.

Releasing Sophie’s hand, I take a bite of the garlic bread.

“Oh wow, these are dangerous,” I say looking up to Ms. Lucy. “I could probably eat the whole basket.”

“Go right ahead, honey,” she encourages. “I made plenty.”

Jake reaches for the salad bowl, loading his plate with fresh greens. “Ms. Lucy’s garden has been producing like crazy lately. These tomatoes are from right out back.”

I take a bite of the salad that I loaded my smaller plate with, and sure enough, the cherry tomatoes burst with flavor that only comes from being freshly picked. The homemade vinaigrette is light and perfectly balanced, complementing the vegetables without overpowering them.

“Oh my goodness, what sort of magic did you put in all this food?” I try to savor each bite, knowing Sophie is still acutely tuned to me. If I eat, she’ll eat.

“The garden’s doing well because Jake here takes such good care of it,” Ms. Lucy points out, and I notice his cheeks redden slightly at the praise.

“Speaking of the garden,” Gavin says, turning slightly toward me, “When I was down at the barn earlier, I noticed the grass out front’s getting a bit long. If you want, I can swing by later this week and take care of it for you.”

I blink, surprised. The offer is so simple, so casual, but it knocks the wind out of me for a second. People don’t usually offer to help—at least, not without expecting something in return. My first instinct is to say no, to tell him I’ve got it covered, even though I clearly don’t.

“That’s… really kind of you. Thank you,” I say instead, my voice a little more careful than I mean it to be. I force a small smile, but my fingers fidget under the table

Matt never wanted to deal with the lawn, so it always looked wild. We even got multiple citations from the city because the grass got too long during the spring.

I glance at Gavin, trying to read his expression. Is this just a nice gesture, or is there an unspoken expectation buried beneath it? My chest tightens with the familiar weight of doubt. I hate that I question kindness now, but it’s hard not to.

As dinner winds down, I watch Sophie scrape some of the sauce from her plate with a crust of garlic bread, just like Gavin did. The meal has been delicious, and despite my earlier anxiety, I’ve managed to relax enough to enjoy it.

“That was wonderful, Ms. Lucy,” I say, standing and gathering my plate and Sophie’s. “Please let me clean up. It’s the least I can do after you cooked such an amazing meal.”

“Oh honey, you don’t have to—”

“Please, I insist,” I interrupt gently. “My mom always taught me that whoever cooks shouldn’t have to clean.”

“Well, I can’t argue with good advice from someone’s mama, now can I?” She concedes with a smile. “Jake and I can take Sophie out to see the fireflies if she’d like. They’re just starting to come out.”

Sophie’s eyes light up. “Fireflies? Can I catch them?”

“Just stay with Ms. Lucy, okay?”

“I can help with the dishes,” Gavin offers, already stacking plates.

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