Page 18 of Savage Heart

By the time I leave Prairie Rose, my feet hurt, and I feel wrung out. If one more person gives me that tight-lipped smile or that Oh . . . you again look, I might lose it. I don’t want to think of Millie Claire’s syrupy voice for another second.

But then I remember that it’s Linc’s last day of school, and we have more than one thing to celebrate.

And just like that, my spirits lift.

The evening sun slants low as I park the car and walk to Otis’s. I love this time of year in Ironwood. The sun lingers until 9:15 p.m. some nights, giving us a hearty dose of summer. His porch light is already on even though it’s still daylight, and the old box fan in his window rattles like it’s on its last breath.

Held together with “hope and duct tape,” as Otis likes to say.

I knock twice on Otis’s screen door and call, “Hey, it’s me,” before walking in.

Otis shouts, “Well, thank the Lord, I thought it was the Girl Scouts again. I can’t eat another Thin Mint unless they wanna see me keel over, but I have a hard time turning ’em down.”

I laugh. “Nope, I do not come bearing cookies.”

His door squeaks when I shut it behind me.

“Well, that’s a shame,” he says, grinning.

He’s in his uniform of faded jeans, suspenders, and a flannel shirt even though it’s late May and almost warm enough to fry an egg on the sidewalk. He’s one of the few men in town who doesn’t wear a cowboy hat. The only difference in how he looks now versus when I was a little girl is that his beard has gotten whiter.

“Hey, honey girl,” he says, with a sweet smile. “Got a kid in here who’s bouncin’ off the walls. But it’s his last day of school . . . he’s allowed. In fact, we’re celebrating.”

“Oh yeah? What did I miss?”

“Root beer. Want some?”

“No, thank you. Not right now.”

“All righty,” Otis says.

Linc pops up beside me. “Hey, Mom.”

I hug him tight. “Hey, bud! How was the last day?”

“Uneventful.” He shrugs. “We cleaned out our lockers.”

I run my fingers through his hair. “Ready to head home?”

“Yep!” He grabs his backpack, then turns to Otis and gives him a huge hug. “Thank you for today.”

Otis pats his back with those large, callused hands. “Always, kiddo. Seeing you and your mom is my favorite part of every day.”

“Love you, Otis,” I say, hugging him.

“Love you too, honey girl. We still on for dinner tomorrow night?”

“Absolutely. I’ll have dinner ready by five thirty, but you can come anytime.”

He nods. “Will do.”

Linc and I walk the short distance to our trailer. The air is sweet with cut grass. Linc skips ahead, and my tired feet suddenly don’t hurt as much.

Inside, he tosses his backpack onto the couch and flops beside it.

“I’ll miss seeing Alex every day, but I’m really glad school is out,” he says. “He’s the only one I’ll miss.” He makes a face.

I’m so glad Linc has Alex. He’s one of the few kids who’s accepted Linc, and the two of them have gotten tight over this school year. It probably helps that Alex and his dad, Dalton, have only lived in Ironwood for the past two years. Dalton works for the Harringtons, but it hasn’t seemed to be a factor in Linc and Alex’s friendship.