Page 32 of Sidelined By Love

“Petrified!” Zoe freezes, and Kenna bursts out laughing. Zoe quickly follows, doubling over in a fit of giggles. They have to lean on each other to keep from falling off their stools.

Remnants of their yogurt-and-berry parfaits sit on the counter before them, but Kenna’s laughter distracts me from worrying that they’ve eaten my breakfast too. She sounds so much like her mom.

Four years older than me, Eden and I spent so many sunny Saturdays in Florida playing in the sprinklers. One day my dad put a tarp on the lawn and sprayed it until it was so slick we flew down it. Eden’s joy was uncontainable that day.

And without knowing it, I’ve been waiting to hear that from Kenna now, too.

Thanks to Zoe, here it is. Kenna’s joy filling my house. I want to wrap Kenna in a bear hug.

But transferring Klaus’s unique odor to her school uniform probably wouldn’t be appreciated. Instead, I blurt out the obvious. “Practicing for the audition?”

Kenna looks in my direction—clearly surprised to see me there. Zoe, on the other hand, offers me a warm smile. Her hair is a bit rumpled, her makeup a little more smoky around her eyes. But the glow of her genuine grin makes my heart thud a little harder than usual.

“It’s at the end of the week, so we have to take every opportunity,” Zoe says.

“You already look like a pro,” I say to my niece. She ducks her chin while shaking her head. But I catch the tiny movement asshe glances my way to confirm she heard me right. With a silent nod, I try to tell her I fully believe in her.

“Do you want to climb the Incline with me on Saturday?”

I nearly clap a hand over my mouth. I did not mean to invite Kenna. Not that I don’t want to spend time with her. It’s just that the Incline is my alone time. It’s part of my standard rest-and-refreshment time of the bye week. It’s quiet time. Just me and God’s creation. Just me and my Creator.

All the other hikers climbing the wooden railroad ties going straight up the mountain near Pikes Peak disappear. Most of them won’t recognize me. None will bother me. They’ll all be too focused on making it up the trail that gains two thousand feet of elevation in less than a mile.

The Incline is my time to clear my head. Time to ask God for direction. Time to pray for wisdom—in all areas of my life.

Having my niece along for the trip won’t exactly be conducive to that.

But maybe it could be the answer to my prayer for a way to connect with her.

“The Incline?” Kenna sounds uncertain. Then suddenly her head swivels toward Zoe. “Do you want to go?”

I almost swallow my tongue, followed by nearly hacking up a lung.

Kenna ignores my distress, but Zoe deigns to raise an eyebrow in my direction, clearly asking if I’m going to survive. Thumping a fist against my chest, I nod a tentative affirmation.

“That sounds like fun. I’ve never been.”

No. No. No. This isn’t the plan. I don’t need to be seen in public with Zoe.

And forget appearances. I shouldn’t spend another minute with her for my own mental health.

Instead I say, “Sure. You should come with us. If you can keep up.”

I should just bite my own tongue off. That would be smarter than letting it loose.

Zoe arches a perfectly shaped eyebrow in my direction. “Really? You think I can’t keep up with you?”

I want to remind her that she was the one dressed like a tie-dyed superhero and out of breath after chasing me down in front of her grandma’s house—on a perfectly flat sidewalk. But that would reveal our morning meet-ups. And somehow those belong in the dark. Just between the two of us.

Kenna is tugging on her arm and practically hopping up and down. “And then we’ll get pancakes?” Count on the kid to think about the food. She is my family after all.

I try to hold a frown, but it refuses to stay in place. “Fine. There will be pancakes.”

Denise wipes her hands on a dish towel and picks up her purse. “Get your bag, sweetie. It’s time to go.”

Kenna jumps up and hugs Zoe quickly, her smile bright enough to light the morning sky. “I can’t wait!” Then she darts out of the room, the sound of her jostling backpack in the entryway quickly following. Denise trails behind her with a quick wave, and I whisper, “Thanks.”

When the door slams, I’m left in silence with Zoe. Alone with Zoe.

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