Page 104 of Juniper Bean Resorts to Murder

Andthatis the other reason I didn’t want to live with Juniper. That is the reason I still feel guilty sometimes, especially when she talks about her time in foster care. Because I uprooted her life and sent her into the system, and she never even knew. I thought I was doing the right thing at the time, but I’ve wondered ever since.

Juniper inhales shakily, holding it for a second as though she’s about to speak. But she releases her breath instead, her eyes turning glassy as she turns her gaze on me.

She scoots closer, shuffling toward me on the couch. She leans down and sets her chips and guacamole on the floor.

I tense, preparing myself.

But I’m not ready for the soft touch of her hand on my thigh. I’m not ready for the arm she threads around my torso or the way she buries her face in my shoulder.

I’m not ready for the two words she whispers: “Thank you.”

I sit for a moment, stunned, before I’m able to react. I wrap my arms around her and pull her onto my lap, where she folds perfectly into me—my origami heart.

I don’t want to ruin the moment by asking her what the heck is going on right now, but…

“What the heck is going on right now?”

She gives a watery laugh, a puff of breath I feel just above the collar of my sweater.

“What did you expect?” she says.

“I don’t know,” I say, still feeling dazed. “I wasn’t sure.”

“My foster parents were really, really wonderful.” The words are quiet but tinged with unmistakable fondness. “I know a lot of kids don’t have that experience. But I did. I was never hungry, the house was warm, no one was drunk. My caseworker was great too—Mr. V. I still send him a letter every Christmas.”

I swallow, feeling the softness of her hair against my face. “Did you miss your mom?”

She gives a humorless little laugh. “Horribly.” She exhales a shaky breath. “Istillmiss her. Isn’t that crazy? But she’s my mom.”

“You can borrow my mom if you want,” I say, reaching up and stroking her hair. “It won’t be the same, of course. But she’s pretty great, and she has love to spare.” I pause, then say, “So…to clarify. You’re not upset?”

“That you reported my mom?”

I nod wordlessly.

“I’m shocked,” she admits. “And it will take a little time for me to wrap my head around it.” Her eyes dart to me and then away again. “And I can’t promise that I won’t be upset at some future date.”

“That’s absolutely fair,” I say quickly. “I would understand completely.”

She nods. “But right now…” She gives me a little shrug and goes on, “I’m not angry.”

“Wow,” I say, leaning back. “That was so…anticlimactic.”

She laughs. “Sorry. Do you want me to pretend to be more upset?”

“No,” I say, unable to suppress my own grin. “No need.” I press a kiss to the top of her head, just because I can. “Let’s eat chips and guac and figure out our next move.”

“Are you gonna date me?” she asks with a little smile.

“Mmm,” I hum. “Yeah. I’ll probably have to date you.”

“Are you gonna feed me food out of your secret fourth drawer?”

Crap. I forgot that she saw that. “That’s for emergencies only,” I say, my voice gruff. “Now pass the chips, Junipaide.”

25

IN WHICH JUNIPER MAKES ANOTHER HOUSE CALL

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