Page 61 of XOXO

“I sure do!” I replied, then hesitated. “As long as it’s okay with Lark.”

“Please?” she said to Lark with a look that would sway even the most cold-hearted.

He sighed as if defeated by a four-year-old, then held open the door. “Sure, come on in.”

Stepping inside, I took in the living-room space, kitchen area, and noted three closed doors in the back of the trailer. It was bigger inside than I’d imagined. The decor was neat, clean, and a bit eclectic. I tried not to gawk at the worn furnishings as Star led me to a kitchen table that had seen better days. Still, their home seemed alive, with potted plants everywhere and interesting paintings of natural wonders, which fit what Lark had told me about his mom being a nature lover.

Lark followed behind tensely, as if nervous about what I’d think.

“You’ve never stepped foot inside a trailer in your life, have you?” he asked as I sat down at the table and Star thrust a coloring book toward me. She had a whole baggie of crayons and colored pencils, and it brought me back to my own childhood.

“I think plenty of people can say the same thing,” I lobbed back, feeling slightly defensive, though I wasn’t sure why. I might have had some biases, but so did he.

“Yeah, true,” he replied, plopping down on the bench seat across from me, his wariness seeming to ebb away. Or maybe it was just resignation.

“It feels cozy in here,” I said, then glanced over my shoulder to the window. “And all the birdhouses are charming.”

“I’ll be sure to let Mom know.” He smirked. “We’ve only got two bedrooms, so Star and I have to share. Normally, I put her to bed first.” Lark glanced up at the clock. “In about an hour, and she’s fast asleep by the time I’m ready to hit the hay.”

“Sort of like your own dorm-room situation,” I replied, paging through the book and landing on a picture of horses on a farm.

He laughed. “Guess so. I don’t mind it much. Star’s a good kid. Until she begs for one more bedtime story.”

He reached over to muss her hair while she giggled. I felt a pang in my gut watching their interaction, which seemed sweet and loving. I didn’t have any siblings, and I’d wondered a time or two over the years what that might’ve been like. Mom had shared once that they’d tried to have more kids, but after her third miscarriage, they’d given up.

“Do you want anything to drink?” Lark asked.

I reached for a brown crayon. “Sure, what do you have?”

He stood. “Water or soda?”

“Either would work.”

He retrieved a glass from the cupboard and poured me lemon water from a pitcher in the fridge. It was refreshing going down.

“Hey, you went out of the lines.” Star pointed to a section of grass on my page where the green color had a mind of its own.

“Uh-oh. Guess I’m not as good at this coloring thing as you are.”

Lark grinned, then motioned toward all the pictures taped to the fridge. “They’ve been doing a lot of art in preschool.”

We stayed put at the table for the next hour, chatting, coloring, and then pretending that Star’s plastic horses, which she’d lined up near us, were grazing grass alongside the picture horses.

It was actually fun, and though I could’ve been partying with friends at school, there were no complaints from me. Maybe this was more my speed.

“It’s bedtime, Star,” Lark announced, then glanced my way. “I’m sure this hasn’t been very exciting for you—”

“What are you talking about? I love coloring!” I held up my second page of some cowboys and cattle.

“Yeah,” Star said and harrumphed. “He colors more than you.”

“Told you I was the funner one,” I teased.

He rolled his eyes. “Say good night, Star.”

“Good night, Henners,” she said, then lurched toward me with a hug. Feeling her thin arms around my neck was sweet and made me feel a sting of melancholy I couldn’t easily explain.

Lark reached for Star’s hand and led her toward the back bedrooms. “It’s gonna take a few minutes because we have a routine, so this might be your chance to take off.”

---