Page 77 of Fighting

I give him a knowing grin and bump his shoulder with mine one more time. “I have no doubt you will.”

We continue to play fetch and tug-of-war with the little guys until they flop over with exhaustion.

“Time to pack up, kids. Town meeting is starting soon” the elderly tech calls to us.

Shua and I carry the last few pups into the vet building and get them settled. In their crate, they pile on top of one another, snuggling up.

“Reminds me of when you’d insist we have slumber parties during family vacations. Climbing into bed and making up stories about adventures with your imaginary friend. What was his name?” I ask.

“Harley,” Shua says with a smirk. “Because I wanted us to have motorcycles.”

“Yeah, Harley. You’d pretend to ride all over the world. And look at you, about to plan an even bigger adventure.” He’s growing up so quickly. Tears start to form, and I press the corner of my eyes, hoping to prevent them from falling.

“Stop it,” he says with a soft shove. “I have a whole year of high school left.”

Then why do I feel like my job as mom is done if they’re all adults? Do I want to be a mom-mom?

“Hello?” the tech calls back to us. “I need to lock up before town hall. Rabin kids, you coming?”

Looping his arm with mine, my brother steers me away from the puppies, not knowing he just stirred a big question in me.

Am I going to let one bad relationship dictate the kind of family I want to build?

Jim knocksthe gavel against the wooden podium, calling the room to attention. “Nice to see everyone here. I’m going to keep this evening short since it’s been a long weekend. I’d like to take a minute to thank all of the businesses, volunteers, and of course, the co-chairs for making this festival such a wonderful experience.”

The responding applause is tepid due to a mix of low attendance and volunteers moving larger items indoors until they can be returned to storage for next year. Shua and I weave our way around the obstacles until he sees a group of his friends. He gives me a high five, then takes off toward them.

Delia and River stand together, locked in a conversation about the breakdown crew and what will happen to turnover The Featherweight tomorrow for the week ahead.

I linger, trying to figure out where I want to be, when someone steps up from behind me. I tense momentarily, but when I discover it’s Mateo, I immediately sink into his warmth.

“I need to go home,” I admit.

“Let’s go.” With his arms slung low around my waist and his front pressed to my back, he attempts to turn us.

“Won’t they notice?” I ask, glancing around.

“Out of respect for everyone’s time, we’re going to postpone any further business until next week,” Jim says.

The crowd erupts into cheers.

“Run,” Mateo says, a playful grin splitting his face.

He speeds toward the exit, turning to check for me over his shoulder.

I take off after him, and we cut across the square and zigzag to my street. Mateo jogs slow enough to hold a normal conversation, while my muscles are burning.

As we hit a small hill, my panting becomes full-on gasps for air. Damn, I’m out of shape.

“Hop on,” Mateo calls, tapping his shoulders.

“What?”

“Come on, I’ll give you a piggyback ride. We’ll still get back twice as fast.”

Laughing, I jump onto his back. He holds my legs tight under the knees and speeds past the final few houses. Once we’re on the front porch, he eases me to my feet and breathlessly captures my mouth with his.

“I’m feeling pretty gnarly after running around in the sun all day.” He gives me an exaggerated sniff. “And phew! You are ripe.”

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