Hold on to Hope

Anger flashed through her expression. “Everett’s mother never told Evan she was pregnant. He never knew until she showed up at his door and left him there with him.”

A collective gasp went up. One of them was mine.

My eyes swung to Evan. Evan who was playing free. Like for a moment, a burden had been lifted from his shoulders. I wanted to hop up and rant and scream and track down whoever that bitch was that would up and leave her child.

Didn’t she understand the gift she’d been given? Old feelings of abandonment crawled and shivered.

Had to tuck my hands under my thighs to keep myself from doing something stupid like making a move for the tiny boy.

Every cell in my body aching in the worst way.

To love and cherish.

Aunt Hope sighed a sound of confliction. “As angry as I am with her, I’m thankful she brought him to Evan. I guess she’s in some kind of trouble, and I’m guessing that she didn’t know Evan well enough to know about his genetic disorders to begin with. The whole thing is such a mess, and we’re still trying to sift through the details of it. We have an attorney involved.”

My mind spun.

This was all . . . too much. Too ugly and complicated and wrong.

It didn’t matter if she was in trouble or not. If she understood Evan’s history or not. It was no excuse for her not tellin’ him.

“How could she do that? Who is she?”

Aunt Hope shook her head. “I think that’s something you’re going to have to talk with Evan about yourself, Frankie Leigh. It’s not my right to be offering those details.”

Right.

It was personal information.

Private.

Because that didn’t include me anymore.

Distress wound and burned and stung, and I tried to gather myself up.

This seed of anger and possession I could feel gettin’ ready to sprout.

That needed to be snuffed out really quick.

Sympathy filled Aunt Hope’s expression, like she was offering me an apology. Her loyalty fierce to both of us. “Evan’s gonna need support. Friends who love him most. Understand him most. I’m worried he can’t handle all of this . . . he’s been up all night, pacing like he thinks he needs to stand guard over his son. I think he’s worried he’s going to disappear as fast as he showed up. I guess now he knows exactly how it feels to fear for your child.”

She said it like she was talking to everyone there, but she was looking directly at me, like she could see all the things rambling through my insides, the loss and the grief and that stupid love that I wanted to stamp out.

But that was the thing about truly loving someone.

It was unending.

My gaze drifted out to the man.

And I wondered if we could actually get back there.

My best friend. My best friend.

Maybe . . . maybe I could be there for him. For both of them.

I just was worried I wouldn’t be able to handle it without my heart gettin’ all mangled up again.

Oh, who was I kiddin’? It was already twisted and gnarled.

At least maybe I could get that one piece ironed out.

Set it to right.

“That’s so, so good you gots a new a heart.” Her voice came out a whisper. “You want to be my best friend?”

Because Frankie was sure Evan was her favorite, favorite.

The memory swam while I watched Mama reach out and touch Aunt Hope’s knee again. “Blessings come in all forms of unexpected packages. And this little guy sure looks like a blessing to me. You know we’ll be there for you all.”

Aunt Hope squeezed her hand. “I know that. And I can’t tell you how thankful we are to have you all. That we have a family that supports us like this. I’m not sure what we would have done through these years without you.”

Love rolled.

That deep-seated loyalty.

I turned away, looked off into the distance toward the crash of the waterfalls, relishing in that peace while my aunts and my mama continued to talk and ask questions and offer solutions and promises of help. I got lost in it.

The warmth and the realness.

The goodness of it all.

The reminder that there was hope in the darkness.

Joy in the bleakness.

I nearly jumped straight out of my skin when a hand landed on my shoulder. Maybe it was because it sent a streak of warmth blazing down my arm.

Infiltrating.

That tiny hand eliciting too many feelings that I didn’t know how to process yet somehow expected at the same time.

Everett held onto my shoulder, bouncing on his chubby legs, angling his head around to get into my line of sight.

“Hi!” he said with one of those grins and his tiny voice, patting at my shoulder and giving me a scrunched-up smile. And holy heck, I’d seen some adorable stuff in my life, but this little boy had gone and taken the cake.