Page 3 of Left of Forever

By the time Sam settles into his spot across from us with a grin, we’ve both recovered. I note the bashful splotches on his cheeks, and my heart hiccups in my chest, my brain rapidly slotting the pieces together.

He pulls out a large envelope from somewhere behind his back, turns it, and slides it our way.

“I got in,” he says. “I got into Davis.”

My greedy hands pull the papers closer, the wordsPleasedandCongratulationsandAcceptedblurring beneath quick-sprung tears. And then Ellis and I are shoving out of our chairs in tandem, rounding the table with celebratory sounds before we crush our son in a hug, a tangle of limbs and laughter.

“You did it,” I say to Sam with a happy sniffle. His dream school, for their viticulture and enology program. He always loved gardening with his aunt Sage when he was little, and since learning about all the ways science could get involved, he’s been set.

“Wedid it” comes Sam’s reply. He peels his trapped arms out of our embrace and scoops me and Ellis into a hug of his own, forever pulling us together. When he spins back to look at his packet again, Ellis and I lock eyes.

“We did it,” he says quietly to me. And suddenly, it’s my eighteenth birthday again, a sleeping baby in the middle of our bed, he and I watching raptly as Sam’s chest rises and falls. Equal parts fear and adoration emanating between us.

“He’s so perfect,”Ellis had said, gaze blown wide while he’d studied one of Sam’s hands.“I have to get this right, Wren. There are no mess-ups when it comes to a kid. Think of how much all parents fuck up their kids.”

“We won’t,”I’d said, determined. I’d braided my fingers with his, our thumbs each holding one of Sam’s chubby feet at the same time.“We can do this.”We had to.

A few more hot tears spill down my cheeks. I bat them away and turn to lean over Sam, palm landing on his shoulder. In the corner of my eye, Ellis hesitates before he does the same.

Now, when our hands accidentally brush across the surface of Sam’s back, I immediately pull away.

“I want to move down there in June,” says Sam.

My face snaps into a frown. “June?! The semester doesn’t start until August,” I say.

“Yeah, but I need to get a job and get settled and all that. I can sign up to sublet something until I can get into the dorms. I already saw a bunch of forums for housing.”

My hand goes to my chest like it might steady the gathering rhythm beneath. June feels too soon. I hazard looking at Ellis for help, only to find him contemplating the grain on the table, solid as a statue.

“We’ll have to follow you down with the truck,” Ellis says, patently avoiding my stare and going rogue instead.

Shock squeezes tight around my lungs. “We?” I ask incredulously. I see Sam tense and immediately regret it.

Ellis shrugs stiffly. “He can’t fit all his stuff in the Jeep, and he’ll have to keep that down there with him, anyway. And you’ll want to see his place, too, yeah?” he asks. “See him get settled?”

I suppress a snort. He knows I’ll want that. “Of course.”

“We’ll make a trip out of it,” he adds, deceptively casual.

I give him a sidelong glance. Bare my teeth in a smile. “You mean take Sam on a trip together? Like a grad trip.”

Sam’s shoulders inch up. “Ehh, no offense—I’d just rather get down there. A grad trip with your parents sounds…” He makes a face in lieu of an explanation. “No offense,” he repeats.

It’s Ellis’s turn to shrug again, but his is jumpier. “That’s fine,” he says, still studying me. “You and I can celebrate on our way back with our own trip.”

I feel my eyes round. He’s gone preternaturally still, gray-and-brown-flecked irises leveled on me with an intensity that has my heart racing.

We keep things no less than perfectly pleasant with each other in front of Sam. It’s a point of pride for us both, I think.I’m trying to find a way to dial back this conversation in a subtle, friendly manner. My smile weighs a ton.

After a stilted pause, I come up with, “Oh, I’ll probably have to just catch a flight back. Not sure I can take the time off, you know?”

“It’ll be after Walter and Martha’s wedding,” Ellis parries. “Since Sam will be expected to go to that”—he nods at Sam in confirmation now—“and before tourist season. Don’t you still take your vacation around then, anyway?”

My jaw falls open softly, and I try to find a reply. How dare he push this in front of Sam! Sam, who keeps smiling innocently between us now. And yes, that is when I take my only true vacation of the year, a week over my birthday, but like hell am I going to spend it torturing myself with him. Holidays and family occasions are hard enough, but I can’t bear to give up the rest of the Byrds altogether.

I’m not going to ruin this night for Sam by arguing with Ellis, though. We’ve made it this long successfully shielding him from our mess.

“Yeah! Yeah, that’ll be great!” I concede temporarily. I’ll have to find an alternative solution later. For now, I want to pull out the honey cake I’ve got stored in the fridge and redirect the attention onto celebrating our son.