Page 151 of The Run Back Home

"Alaska," I say, ripping off the BandAid holding this conversation together.

Mom pauses her lifted foot so quickly I almost miss it. She stares straight ahead for an extra beat composing herself, before she peers over at me. "You always wanted to go there when you were little."

Now I'm the one who reacts—not a stutter-step. Not a moment to gather myself.

A full cease and desist.

"That's it?" I ask, stopping completely.

Mabel takes two more steps before twisting back to face me. "What should I have said?"

I throw my hands open, my heart rate already doubling. "I don't know. Beg me to stay. Remind me that my family is here—that if I would just keep close, we'd all be together."

She studies me for half a second longer than I expect.

Then she turns back and forges ahead again, and I have no choice but to follow in order to keep up.

We make our next turn as she finally responds with the last thing I would have guessed. "What did Jace say?"

A piece of hay on the ground suddenly quadruples in size—or at least, it must, considering I nearly trip over the same walking path we've been on this whole time. "Who, um—who told you about that?"

She quietly laughs to herself, leading me around another corner. I start to realize this maze has never felt this long, but before I can question it, she answers.

"You just did."

My eyes fall shut. I should have known. That's the most Mabel thing she's ever done.

"You know, that was a big risk you just took. What if I wasn't seeing him again."

"It's not a risk if you know the outcome, dear." She smiles. "You confirmed my suspicions at the Cider Fest and again just now. You stopped looking at things around here like they were haunting you instead of merely existing."

I slink behind her another foot—two? Three maybe?

I lose track trying to piece together exactly what she already has.

"So, how is he?" Mabel asks like this whole thing's completely normal.

"He's… good," I answer hesitantly.

"And you?" She locks eyes with mine. "You're… happy?"

I grin, but there's something even I can't name keeping it from fully reaching the corners of my mouth. "I am."

"But you're still leaving."

Mabel shoots her response—her question?—back so quickly it's like she knew it was coming.

"It's only three months," I say, frustration clawing at my chest. "Things are different now."

"For who?"

I part my lips to answer, but no words come out. Mabel looks over her shoulder, searching for a response.

When I don't offer one, she continues. "Because he still seems settled in one place playing baseball."

"Well… yeah, but—"

"And you still seem to be distancing yourself."