Chapter 84

Ardal

Jack confers with Kadeem over the itinerary, while the kids bolt around like wild animals - all but Erbao, who soon tires out and plops down onto the curb in the shade.

I take a seat next to him and hold out my open bag of popcorn, but he shakes his head.

“Mom?”

I fling a piece of popcorn into my mouth. “Hmm.”

“I heard you talking to Kadeem about me.”

I freeze, mouth half-open to gobble another bit of snack. “You did,” I ask, feeling the anxiety rising inside of me.

“That’s why we’re leaving? Because of me?”

I fold up my bag. “There are different reasons… An adventure… Maybe turning a page for all of us.”

“Mom,” he presses.

I wrap my arm around his frail frame. He is a mere shadow of the boy I once knew, but his thin appearance belies the fierce vitality inside. His dark eyes brim with intelligence, his wiry mop of hair tousled from adventures past, and his skinned knees - a testament to fearless abandon.

“Yes, it’s for you, on the whole,” I say. “To get help for your kidneys.”

“And what if that doesn’t work?”

“It will,” I say. “Jack knows-“

Erbao cuts me off. “But what if he’s wrong?”

I pull my arm a little tighter around him. “Then we’ll come home and resort to dialysis until you can have a transplant.”

He scowls. “Then why is Kadeem so worried?”

I inhale sharply before answering, wishing he hadn’t overheard so much of our discussion. “He’s just - protective,” I say.

“Why?”

“Because it’s his nature. He’s Alpha, isn’t he?”

Erbao nods slowly, but doesn’t seem satisfied.

“Listen, don’t you worry,” I say, patting his back. “We’re taking a risk here - it could pay off or it may not. But if we don’t take it - “

A crooked smile forms on his lips. “Then we’ll never know,” he finishes.

“I knew I was speaking your language,” I grin.

Suddenly, it hits me just how much he shares with Kadeem. It’s a lot deeper than their dimples or any other physical trait.

I clear my throat and pick up my popcorn bag again, retreating from the emotion welling up inside of me.

“You’re an explorer and a natural born leader, Erbao. Who knows? Maybe you’ll even be Alpha one day.”

Erbao’s face lights up at this prospect, however his enthusiasm wanes just as quickly. “I don’t think so,” he says.

“And why’s that?”

We look up to see Kadeem. His head’s tilted slightly and there’s a playfully inquisitive expression on his face.

Erbao merely shrugs in response and looks down at his feet.

“You have it in you,” Kadeem says. “If that’s what you want.”

A wry grin appears on Erbao’s face as he looks back up at Kadeem.

I mouth a silent “thanks” to Kadeem, who sends me a wink in return.

He starts to say something, but Lottie runs up to give me a sticky hug and kiss and Jack starts the van. I shepherd the kids back inside, and am about to climb in myself when Kadeem catches me by the arm, sending a flutter through my heart.

“Hang on,” he says, reaching over to close the van door. He holds up his index finger in the window to Jack, to ask for a minute of time.

“We’re going a lot farther than I expected,” Kadeem says. “It’ll be pretty remote. You think he’ll be okay?” Kadeem glances inside the van at Erbao.

“He just had dialysis this morning,” I say, “So we have some time.”

“And if we run out of time,” he asks.

I shake my head. “We’ll leave before it gets to that point. Jack located a dialysis center in the area. It’s all set up in case he needs it.”

Kadeem’s brow is lined in worry. “Are you sure,” he asks. “Did you check on it yourself?”

I raise an eyebrow. “Why? To see if Jack was lying about arranging it?”

Kadeem stares at me silently, an obvious “yes” written on his face.

I snort softly. “Of course not.”

“Do us all a favor,” he says. “Call them up before we get too much further.”

I grab hold of the van door to pull it up again. “Fine -“

“Chels -“

My breath hitches as Kadeem reaches out and tenderly brushes his thumb along my cheekbone.

“Lottie’s kiss left a stain,” he murmurs quietly.

My face flames red, the burning blush spreading all the way to my toes. “It’s - it’s okay,” I stammer, fumbling for his hand to push him off, but instead our fingers entwine together like they belong there. A spark of electricity shoots through me at the contact, igniting a flame inside.

“Sorry,” he says, pulling away abruptly. He gets back into the car hastily, slamming the door.

Flustered, all I can do is stand still for a second, as I try my best to get my bearings together. Nothing makes any sense right now, not even up or down.

I manage to slink back inside the car. Jack eyes both Kadeem and I, his lips pursed into a thin line. This trip was already tense enough. Now, the air’s so thick you could choke on it.

Thanks to Kadeem’s shenanigans earlier in the day, we’re completely off schedule. We drive for a few more hours and make a fast food run for dinner.

Jack barely utters a word, except to make a a few curt barbs at Kadeem or a gruff acknowledgement towards me. Kadeem has become a statue, keeping his eyes trained ahead.

And me? I feel as though I’m drowning. Something’s reawakened between Kadeem and me - and it’s the last thing I want.

With an agonized panic, I try to shove away the desire for him, willing myself not to go backwards - but it’s like quicksand. Every once in a while, we catch each other’s eyes or brush up against each other, and I’m sinking again. Worse, I think he’s sinking, too.

I just pray Jack can’t detect it any more than he already has.

Soon enough, night falls and we’re traveling underneath a waxing moon down a desolate highway, Jack’s plush hotel reservation, nothing but a distant fantasy.

Weary and with tempers are flaring, we roll into a lonely crossroads motel, a relic of the bygone Route 66 era. In the parking lot, its winking neon sign hums a feeble tune in the darkness, promising false luxuries like cable TV and swamp coolers.

Kadeem holds open the door to the lobby and we carefully avoid each other’s eyes. The lobby smells of burnt coffee and bleach. It’s cramped and threadbare, with worn out carpet and dated sheets of wood paneling on the walls.

The kids and I leaf through tattered travel brochures while the men bicker over every little thing. Each menial detail seems to take on a life of its

own and there’s an undercurrent of mutual jealousy in their words that sets me on edge.

Jack wants his own room, but Kadeem keeps making ominous comments about “not trusting” him. After a heated exchange, Jack caves and agrees to share a room with Kadeem - one that adjoins to mine next door with the kids.

That should have been the end of it, but then they squabble over who will pay for it - each one insisting that he will cover the cost.

The poor attendant watches on warily, no doubt having experienced her fair share of family squabbles.

Finally settled, we trudge to our rooms. The crickets chirp in the humid night air, a salve for my frayed nerves.

The kids run around a light pole, batting at moths underneath the glowing light, raising their voices in joyous laughter.

Jack yanks his bags out of the car and angrily drags them towards his room.

Kadeem watches the kids with amusement as he slings my duffle bag onto his shoulder and picks up one of the kids’ suitcases.

“They caught a second wind.”

“Of course,” I say. “Just what I needed. To be up all night with them.”

Kadeem chuckles, shifting the baggage to one arm. With his free hand, he hands me a small bag to carry in, just as Jack stomps back outside.

Kadeem silently presses the key into my hand. The electricity crackles again and I can’t help steeling a glance at his bright eyes. He swallows nervously as my heart races with emotion.

Jack pushes past us for more of the luggage.

“Sorry,” he grunts, “Hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

His face Is a thundercloud of rage.

Huffing and scowling with annoyance, he heaves our bags from the van, just barely keeping his temper in check.

Kadeem stares at him, his expression perfectly composed. “You’re on thin ice,” he says cooly. “Tread lightly.”

“Kadeem,” I say in a pleading whisper.

His features soften slightly and he gives me a reluctant nod of agreement.

I unlock the door of my mildew-scented room. The kids rush in exuberantly while Kadeem and Jack silently lug the bags inside.

Jack gives the kids hushed ‘goodnights’ while I remain motionless, my heart sinking. He will not look at me at all. He clumsily shuffles out without another word.

Kadeem and I are left standing together awkwardly. The butterflies are flapping around my stomach like the moths at the light pole. I want him to touch me, but his hands remain firmly at his sides.

He breaks from me to turn to the kids, hugging them, ruffling their hair, and making them promise they’ll be good for me and go straight to sleep.

He looks back at me and clears his throat, before walking to the door. Then he nods to me curtly.

“Goodnight.”