The Mixtape

“You can’t be that hard on yourself, Kelly. You deserve to be happy again.”

“I don’t even know what that means anymore!” She cried, even harder, and I held her tighter in my arms.

“You know what you need?” I whispered, trying my best to soothe her.

“What’s that?”

I pulled her back a little and smiled at her as I brushed away some of her tears. “You need a girls’ day.”

After some convincing, Kelly agreed to have me take her on a spa day, to help clear her head and heart from the mess that was sitting inside of her.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” I asked Oliver as Kelly went to clean herself up a little.

“Yes, of course. She needs it. Plus, I can get by feeding myself for the day,” he joked. “How can I help?”

“Actually, I was wondering if you could do me a huge favor and pick Reese up from camp today? I asked Abigail, but she already has plans.”

“Of course, not a problem. What time?”

I gave him all the information, and he was more than willing to help me out.

“Thank you, Emery . . . for being there for Kelly. I know you’re going through your own stuff, but it means a lot to me that you’re helping her out.”

“I think we both need a day to get away,” I confessed. “The world’s been a lot lately. I just feel as if it’s time to unplug for a second.”

“Take all the time you two need. I’ll be here with Reese when you’re ready to come home.”

Home.

He said it as if his home was mine. That made me smile more than I knew possible.

31

OLIVER

Reese’s camp looked like a scene from the cartoon Recess, where the kindergartners ran around in their playground like wild animals. All the kids were shouting as they chased one another around. In that moment, I was so damn happy I’d never attended summer camp. It probably would’ve fucked with my anxiety more than anything else.

I stood leaning up against my car, waiting to spot Reese to take her home. Emery had already called the camp instructors to inform them that I’d be the one picking her daughter up, so now was the waiting game.

Kids dashed past me as they hurried to their cars to head home for the night. When I spotted Reese, I stood up straighter and studied the interaction that was taking place. She didn’t look like her bubbly self that I’d grown to love. She looked . . . sad?

Then, my concern turned into rage as I witnessed a young boy poking her with a stick, and then he pushed her down to the ground.

“Hey, what the fuck!” I hollered, rushing over to the scene, shocked by what had just happened. No camp instructors seemed to notice what had taken place, which only made me more livid.

“Dude, don’t ever put your hands on her again,” I snapped at the kid.

He looked at me like he was the toughest kid on the playground, and he rolled his eyes. Yeah, that’s right. The little shit rolled his eyes at me.

“Whatever, you’re not my dad. You can’t tell me what to do,” he huffed.

I helped Reese up, and she hurried to stand behind me as embarrassment settled in.

“Yeah, I’m not your dad, but I will tell on you,” I threatened.

“My dad could kick your butt,” the kid said, leaving me shocked. What kind of demon child was this? Was his mother Cam? He had way too much in common with her.

I looked around and shouted, “Hey, whose kid is this? Somebody’d better tell me whose little shit this is!” I hollered.

“That’s a quarter for the swear jar,” Reese whispered.

I’d gladly put the coin in the jar for this situation.

“What’s going on over here?” a deep voice said. I turned to see a guy who was twice my size marching my way, but I wasn’t going to step down. Not when it came to having Reese’s back.

“What’s going on is your son pushed Reese to the ground, and he wouldn’t apologize.”

“It’s not true, Dad! He’s lying!” the jerk lied.

Must’ve been Cam’s kid.

“He said he didn’t do it, so he didn’t do it,” the man said, standing tall.

“Well, your kid’s a liar.”

He puffed out his chest. “You getting slick? Don’t talk about my son.”

“Then tell him to keep his hands to himself, and we wouldn’t have a damn problem.”

Before the huge giant spoke again, he narrowed his eyes at me, taking me in. “Wait a fucking minute. Aren’t you Oliver Smith?”

Oh shit.

I shifted in my shoes. Not wanting to answer that.

“Yeah, he’s Oliver Mith, and he’s my friend!” Reese chimed in, finding her voice again.

“Holy shit! I’m a big fan,” the scary giant said, taking my hand into his and shaking it nonstop. His whole demeanor shifted as he came to the realization of who I was. “Man. Your music is the best. Sorry about your loss, dude. My condolences.”