Page 146 of The Apple Tree

“It was yummy,” Josh said, finding a piece to the puzzle.

I nodded. “My mom makes good pie.”

“As good as yours?” Kyle lifted an eyebrow.

“Pfft. Of course not.” I held a serious face for a few seconds before cracking a grin.

Kyle and I stared at each other for a while without saying anything. I would have given all of my tomorrows to have known what he was thinking.

“Have you made friends?” he asked, breaking the silence.

“Sure. But they can’t be lifelong friends. I think it’s a bad idea for addicts to be friends. We’re all a bunch of bad influences.”

He nodded, brow furrowed. “I was a bad influence.”

The can of beer in exchange for a blow job.

I didn’t mention that in counseling when we discussed people in my life who were enablers of my addiction.

“I hid it well,” I said because I didn’t blame him, and I didn’t want him to blame himself.

“You didn’t,” he replied.

I didn’t argue. What was the point?

“I hear you’re moving home.” It tookeverythinginside of me to bring that up. It was the equivalent of tearing my heart out of my chest and asking Kyle to crush it with his boot.

But it was one of several elephants in the room. Therapy had done a lot for me in three weeks, but my self-preservation instinct still needed some honing.

He focused on Josh and slowly nodded.

“Do you have a new job?” I asked, but I didn’t care.

There were more important questions like, were we just a short fling? Was it not really love? Would he ever really forgive me for burning Josh? Were they visiting me because he wantedto see me or because Josh wanted to? Would we keep in touch? Did he regret what we had? Was I worth the chaos of moving to Devil’s Head for a few months?

“I’ll substitute teach for the rest of the school year and see what comes available for next year.”

“We visited Colorado Springs when I was like ten or something,” I said. “We rode up to Pikes Peak.”

He offered a melancholy smile and a tiny nod. “The Cog Railway. It’s pretty fun. I haven’t taken Josh yet. Maybe next summer.” He leaned forward and helped Josh fit another piece into the puzzle.

“How’s my dog? Are you leaving him or taking him?”

Josh giggled. “Clifford is my dog.”

Kyle squinted at Josh. “But where does he sleep?”

Josh sighed. “With you.” He did the cutest shrug, lifting his hands. “But I don’t know why?”

“Josh and I took him pheasant hunting last weekend. I think he’s a hunting dog.”

I grinned, and it felt good. “Told you.”

Kyle’s grin mirrored mine. “You did.”

I joined in again on the puzzle, and we worked on it for the next half hour, keeping our conversation Josh-friendly.

“When are we going?” Josh said when he was bored with the puzzle.

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