Page 48

Grayson

This time, I’m not alone while I walk to Ms. Clearing’s office.

Callie and Athena walk to my left, Astrid trailing only slightly behind us. Astrid and I are dressed for a meeting with a lawyer, but Callie is in jeans and a T-shirt. Athena is wearing the polka dot dress she’s refused to take off for weeks. I’ve had to wash it every night.

Outside, there are just a few smatterings of snow on the ground, but they’re melting quickly. It’s a warm day in April, and Denver is thawing out around us. Back home in Milwaukee, we got to the airport just before one last cold front, one last winter storm.

Maybe we’ll come back to warmer weather, flowers blooming.

“She’s really going to be here?” Callie asks, glancing up at me, a rare show of vulnerability on her face.

“Yes,” I say, confidently. “She will.”

We’re not trading the girls over today—that will come much later, after more of these meetings. But this is the first time the girls will see their aunt again after she was arrested.

I’ve been on a few calls with Kayla and the lawyer, a social worker who has assured me that they’ll be doing frequent check-ins on Josh’s sister.

The door to the office opens, and all three of us snap to attention. Ms. Clearing stands there smiling, then ushers us into the office.

When we walk inside, Kayla Welch and her grandmother are waiting for us.

Kayla looks just like her brother, and it knocks the air out of me for a second. She has the same copper-red hair as Josh and the girls, but hers is cut short, framing her face in a stylish bob. She’s thin but healthy-looking, dressed in jeans and a floral blouse that seems carefully chosen.

For a moment, we all freeze, and then Athena lets out a squeal that echoes through the room, bouncing off the bookshelves and window.

“Aunt Kayla!” Athena launches herself at Kayla, who stands from her chair just in time to intercept her, dropping to her knees to wrap Athena in a hug.

“Hey, baby girl,” she whispers, voice breaking. “Look how big you’ve gotten.”

I think about the few weeks I spent away, how much different the girls had seemed to me then. What it must be like for Kayla after this long not seeing them.

Callie approaches more cautiously, but when Kayla looks up at her, something passes between them. Some unspoken thing, maybe an apology. Callie’s face crumples, and she falls into her aunt’s arms.

Astrid and I stand awkwardly to the side. I try to swallow past the lump in my throat. This isn’t about me, but I’m desperately trying to keep from falling apart—because it’s pretty clear that the girls belong with Kayla. With their family.

Ms. Clearing, already behind her desk clears her throat and says in a professional tone, “Should we get started?”

This office feels too small for all the emotions. Kayla sits with a girl on either side of her, both of them sitting close like she might disappear if they’re not actively touching her.

Astrid takes my hand, and I try to keep my face neutral as Ms. Clearing goes through the formalities.

“Ms. Welch,” she begins, tipping her head at Kayla, “I thought it would be nice for us to start with an update for everyone on your current situation.”

Kayla takes a deep breath. “I’m six months sober,” she says, her voice steadier than mine would be. “I completed a ninety-day residential program followed by intensive outpatient therapy. I’ve been working with my sponsor daily, and I’m back at my job as a dental hygienist. I was even able to keep my apartment with two bedrooms—one for me, one for the girls.”

She glances first at Athena, then at Callie. “I know I messed up. And I’m sorry about how scary everything was.” Turning to face me, she meets my eyes. “When Josh died, I was drowning. He was the one who held our family together. The smart one, the steady one. And once he was gone…” She blows out a breath between her lips, shaking her head, “I just thought I wasn’t going to be able to do it.”

Reaching out, she takes a hand from each girl in hers. “It’s no excuse for what happened, but I want all of you to know that I’m better now. I’m here now."

Callie leans her head against Kayla’s shoulder, and I feel a twist in my chest. Astrid runs her thumb over the top of my hand, and I flip mine over so I can lace my fingers between hers.

Ms. Clearing turns and speaks directly to me. “Mr. O’Connor, as we’ve discussed, Ms. Welch is petitioning for custody to be returned to her. As the girls’ aunt and closest living relative, the court tends to favor her position, especially given her successful rehabilitation.”

“I understand, and I think it’s what’s best for everyone.”

Kayla lets out a little noise, and the lawyer gives me a small smile. “That’s great to hear. Your care for the girls these past months has been exemplary. We want to ensure any transition is as smooth as possible.”

The meeting moves to logistics after that. Kayla outlines her plans—the school near her apartment in Denver, the therapist the girls will continue seeing, the support system she’s built. I listen and offer information where I can.

“But Grayson is going to come and visit us,” Callie says, suddenly, at the mid-point of the meeting, turning to her aunt. “A lot.”

Astrid lets out a little laugh beside me, and it’s enough to curb the tears pressing at the backs of my eyes.

“That would be great,” Kayla says, and it seems like she really means it. Turning to me, she adds, “You stepped up. You gave them stability when they needed it most. We’d love to have you in Colorado whenever you want to visit.”

Something loosens in my chest. “Thank you. I’ll buy a skiing pass.”

That makes Mrs. Welch laugh from her wheelchair, and she shakes her head. “You’d better not—if you get hurt before the playoffs, that number nineteen will wallop you.”

Astrid snorts, and I ask, “Luca?”

Mrs. Welch waves a single wrinkled hand, “Whatever his name is.”

Then, I ask, “Wait, have you been watching the games?”

“What?” she asks, tilting her head, “You think I’d just let you run off with my great-granddaughters and not keep an eye on you?”

“Grandma,” Kayla laughs, “aren’t you an Avalanche fan?”

She scoffs. “Never said I wasn’t.”

“We should go to the games when the Frost plays in Denver,” Callie says, looking at me for confirmation.

“Front row seats,” I promise, and for the first time today, my smile feels genuine.

Ms. Clearing outlines the next steps—a gradual transition over the next month, with Kayla staying in Milwaukee for two weeks, taking the girls for increasing periods before they all return to Colorado together at the start of the summer, just after they finish up school in Milwaukee.

When we’re done, Astrid and I step out into the hallway together to give Kayla some time with the girls. She reaches up to kiss me, but is interrupted by the buzzing of her phone.

“Hello?” her face shifts, and she turns, lowering her voice. “Yes, this is her.”

A moment passes, and she says, “That is wonderful news. I’m out of town right now, but I’ll be in touch. Yes, thank you. You as well.”

With that, she ends the call and turns back to me, something strange in her eyes. “I got the research position.”

“You did!” I say it as a statement—I knew she would. I put my hands on her biceps, grin at her. “That’s great. When do you start?”

She hesitates and slides her phone back into her pocket. “I’m not…sure.”

Before, this would be the point where she’d deflect, change the subject. But when I wait patiently, she goes on, looking up and meeting my eyes.

“I’m not sure I’m going to. I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately, and I realized while I really enjoyed school, I think I was pushing so hard just to keep my mind off of what had happened. I never gave myself a chance to really grieve my parents, and taking this job right now…it might just continue that cycle.”

I slide my hands down, tug her toward me. Holding Astrid is my happy place now.

“I think you should take the break,” I say. And then, whispering into her hair, I add, “Feel free to borrow money from me any time you need, baby.”

When she pulls back, she punches me lightly in the arm just as the door opens and the girls appear, running out to meet us. The walk out of the building is serious, quiet, and I’m sure everyone is in their heads about the changes headed our way.

But just before we reach the rental, Athena turns and takes my hand tugging on it and smiling up at me with her gap-toothed smile. “Can we go to the Milk Jug?” she asks, already bouncing on her toes.

“Milk Jug?” I ask, looking to Callie. She laughs, “It’s an ice cream place.”

Turning to Astrid, I shrug. “What do you say? Should we all get some ice cream?”

Astrid pauses with her hand on the truck’s handle, looks from me to Callie, then to Athena. Then, a smile splitting her face, she says, “ Always .”