Page 102 of Run Home

A sheen wells up in Jason’s eyes—tears he’s actively trying to fend off. Placing a hand on his shoulder, I say, “It’s also okay to cry, my guy. It’s worth crying about.”

He gives up the fight and leans into my hug as the tears spill over his cheeks. His voice cracks as he says, “Sometimes I wish my life wasn’t this way. But I’m afraid to tell Mom and Dad that because I don’t want to hurt their feelings. I really do love them one hundred percent, forever. But it’s still hard some days.”

“That’s normal,” I assure him. “And you could be honest with them, and I promise they wouldn’t be upset or hurt. But I’m also always here when you need to tell someone how you’re feeling. Because I also promise you I understand.”

“Thanks, Sammi,” Jason says, pulling away and wiping the tears from his face. He looks at me with devastating vulnerability and asks, “Does it ever get better?”

My heart squeezes itself so hard, I feel like my chest might implode. What do I tell him? I settle on the truth. “In some ways, yes, and in some ways, it’s always there. I mostly have good days now. But just last month, I had a hard couple of days. But the important thing is, I have people who love me who sit with me through the hard days. And you have lots of people who love you and will walk through all the hard things with you too. Me being one of them.”

We talk for a few more minutes until Ms. Clark pokes her head in the door. I give her a subtle thumbs-up, and she says, “Hey, Jason. I called your mom, and she’s going to go ahead and take you home for the rest of the day. Why don’t you run and get your stuff from your locker and meet back up here?”

“Okay,” Jason agrees, standing up. He starts to exit the room but abruptly turns back to throw his arms around me. I hug him tightly and whisper, “You’re so loved, Jason. I’m always here for you.”

We exit the counselor’s room and see Danae standing in the office, checking Jason out on the clipboard. He pauses to give her a quick hug before leaving to go to his locker. Danae and I step into the foyer, and I immediately start to apologize. “Danae, I’m sorry he called me first. But I didn’t want him to think—”

Danae cuts me off with a hug. She pulls back and squeezes my shoulders as she says, “No, don’t apologize, Samantha. I’m so glad he called you.”

“Okay,” I say, relieved. “I didn’t want you to think I’m trying to bypass you or anything.”

She shakes her head. “I would never think that.” Her expression is thoughtful when she takes my wrist, pointing to my tattoo. “You know that painting your mom has with the tree and the birds? You’re just as much a part of Jason’s tree as Griffin and I are. I’m glad he knows he can trust you, not jealous.”

Tears prickle my eyes as I consider her statement. “You really think that? About me being part of his tree?”

“Of course I really think that,” Danae confirms. “Griff and I love him no matter what, and we’re going to do everything we can to support his journey for all his life. But you’re safe for him in a different way—because you understand in a deeper way. He needs you just as much as he needs us.”

Sniffing so I don’t break down fully into tears, I smile. “Well, I love that kid so stinkin’ much. Thanks for letting me be a big part of his life.”

Jason comes through the doors to the foyer, and Danae turns to him. “What would you say to some ice cream?”

“I’d be dumb to say no,” Jason replies, the shadow of a smile finally appearing. He looks to me, “Can you come too, Sammi?”

Even though I technically could cancel my clients last minute, I want to give Danae her own time to meet Jason’s need for connection. “I need to get back to the salon. I’ve got another client coming in about thirty minutes. But definitely call me later if you need a Trash partner.”

Danae and Jason walk to her car, and I close myself in mine. I start the car but leave it in park, staring through blurry eyes at the tattoo on my wrist.

Maybe I can be the tree. Maybe I already am.

Chapter thirty-eight

Samantha

After vacuuming up the final stray hairs from the floor, I stow the styling tools I’ve used today and clean the sink. The month of September has been a balancing act between my increasing client list and my desire to spend as much time as possible with Adrián. I traveled to Boston last week to watch their away series and see some of the city together during his downtime. I’ve made up for it by squeezing in extra-long hours, staying later in the evenings twice a week to accommodate clients who can’t schedule during the day.

But we’re all looking forward to October. The pinnacle of the year for baseball players. And fans. And obsessed girlfriends.

I blocked off all of tomorrow because Adrián has a few days off during the wild card round of the playoffs—the notable perk of winning their division. The Crowns get to rest up while the other teams duke it out for spots in the Divisional Series, which means Adrián and I get a couple of leisurely days together.

Since I’ll be out of the salon for a while, I want to leave my space as clean and organized as possible, so I stay an extra few minutes deep cleaning everything. By the time I finish, it’s nearing 9:30 p.m., and I’m exhausted.

When my phone rings, I expect it to be Adrián saying goodnight, so I’m surprised to see Ian’s contact photo on the screen.

“Hey, baby brother,” I answer. “What are you doing calling so late?”

“Hey, Sammi,” he says, then abruptly stops talking.

After a few beats of silence, I prod, “Uh, Ian? What’s wrong?”

His voice is reluctant when he answers. “I just realized that I didn’t think this through. I should wait and talk to you tomorrow.”