Page 53 of Of Poison & Pumpkins
After a sharp shake of her head, I give her a moment. She had paced for hours after we escaped a conversation with her younger sister and my father. The yuck factor makes me almost gag.
Rynn and I each hold one of Maya’s tiny hands as we all look up. We’ve both had to put on a brave, fake happiness in the little girl’s presence.
“Um, if I can balance on your shoulders, I might be able to reach that one,” Rynn says, her neck craned to the morning sun. “But you’d have to hold my feet to steady me.”
“I meant, do you want to talk about our family? What are we gonna do when we get back?”
I search her face for any clue of how she wants to deal with the news of my father sleeping with her sister. Not just that, they’re married. It feels practically illegal. Acidic bile rises in my throat, but I swallow it down before it reaches my lips.
Rynn’s eyes squeeze shut before she turns away, tugging our train of joined hands along. “They won’t be there when we return. I told Brooke to leave. Let’s focus on getting the seeds.”
“Auntie Wynn, I wanna go on the kitty swing,” little Maya says, pointing to a playground. “And look! I see a kitty slide!”
The metal playground set is made of cat shapes. The twisty ladder, bars, ramps, and net bridge all have a feline element. Whoever designed this masterpiece needs to make a throne for Goosie.
“We’ll swing soon,” Rynn says as she crouches to the girl’s eye level. “See those pumpkins up there?”
“Yeah, are they balloons?”
“No, hun, but we need to get seeds from that one before we play.”
“But it’s not pwetty like the others. That one has bumps and mold.”
I also stoop to meet Maya’s bright green eyes, more vibrant than an emerald. Without much nurturing experience, I feel a strange comradery with this mini human. Her sleek black hair falls to her waist and swooshes like a skirt whenever she dances. Which is often. This girl never stops moving. It’s like someone poured a pound of sugar down a tube straight to her stomach.
“You can pick whatever pumpkin you want, and I’ll carve it for you,” I tell her. “But first, we need to defeat the Vine Slayer. You’ll be the captain, I’m the knight, and Auntie Rynn can be the cat.”
“Hey! Why am I the cat?”
“Because you have long claws.” Maya points to Rynn’s chipped manicure, then her nose scrunches up tight as if she’s deep in thought.
“But you call him Tiger.” Rynn points to my chest, eyes rolling like when she was a teenager. “Tigers are cats.”
“Tigers are tigers, Wynn. Cats are cats.” Maya releases our hands and walks under the first row of pumpkins, studying them like a scientist.
I can’t help but smile. Tinsley must have her hands full at home. I should know more about their friendship, but the past week has been so chaotic there’s barely been a chance. Determined to learn more about Rynn’s social life, I file the questions away for later. I lean closer to Rynn, accidentally inhaling her intoxicating scent once more. This woman will be my demise.
“Maybe we can break them up,” I whisper to Rynn. “Throw some hurdles their way or recruit one of their exes into the mix to throw their relationship off balance.”
“Lias!” Rynn gasps, gaze darting to mine. “I don’t get along with Brooke, but I won’t ruin her marriage. Promise me right now you won’t sabotage them.”
I kick at the dirt with my boots, then snap my suspenders against my chest. “Fine.”
“Oh, that reminds me, hold still.” Half her attention still on Maya, Rynn opens an app on her phone that brings up a measuring tape. She measures my suspender, pant to shoulder, then over my back.
“Uh, what are you doing?”
“Don’t worry about it.” Her stomach rumbles as she steps away.
“Okie dokie, Auntie Wynn and Mister Tiger, come up here. I know what to do!” Maya yells.
“Maya! Get down from there!” Rynn shouts.
I turn faster than a merry-go-round to spot Maya, who is balancing atop the highest cat ear, both arms spread wide like a plane. “Come up! You can weach that pumpkin up heayuh!”
A gust of wind hits her tiny body and she wobbles. My breath is stolen from my lungs at the same time as Rynn lunges forward. Miraculously, Maya doesn’t teeter to the ground.
There’s no chance I could ever have a child. I’ve known her for mere hours and my heart is outside my body, at the whim of a six-year-old’s balance.
