When We Let Go by Delancey Stewart (read with me .txt) 📕

“The things people say.” I wanted her to confirm it. I wanted to get the rumors and the lies out in the open. Maddie had never asked me about the charges, hadn’t addressed the thing that lay between me and pretty much everyone else up here.

She didn’t answer, didn’t meet my eye. She shifted her weight and crossed her arms again.

“About me,” I tried.

She glanced at me, her eyes grazing mine and then dropping again, and then she sighed and sat next to me at the table. “Maybe that was part of it.” She paused, maybe searching for words. “And part of it is just that it felt awkward suddenly. To be sitting in a man’s house, drinking wine. I’ve been through a lot, and … it felt really different, that’s all.”

“Different bad?”

“Just different, I guess.”

We were both silent a minute, looking out at the dense forest edging the property.

“Maddie, would you be interested in having dinner with me?” My mouth had a mind of its own when she was near, and I wished I could suck these words back in, but they’d already spilled out. I waited, hoping maybe it wasn’t too much to ask.

She watched me closely for a minute, stared at my fingers tracing grooves in the worn tabletop, let her eyes scan my face. “Are you asking me for a date?”

I couldn’t help the vague hint of a smile that I felt dance over my face. She was adorable. “Something like that, I guess.”

“Um …” She was stalling. “I guess that would be okay.”

Ouch. Still, it wasn’t a solid no. “You sound so enthusiastic.”

“I’m sorry. I’m torn. I’m confused.”

Of course she was. Who wanted to have dinner with a stalker? No one wanted to be alone with the guy who’d killed his wife, who kept women chained in his basement. I knew about all the rumors … I just didn’t want to validate them by addressing them. But maybe that needed to change. “I don’t want to push you. I just think … well, I think maybe you see past all the ridiculous things people say about me. Maybe you actually see me.”

I paused. Maybe that was too much to say. I was terrible with people—this was why I dealt with fictional people instead. I had a lot more time to decide what they should say to one another and could practice lots of scenarios on paper before I found the perfect one. This particular interaction would have already been deleted. I ran a hand through the hair I knew was wild on my head, feeling defeated. “Well, maybe I can call you instead? Give you a little time?”

She looked at me hard then, tilting her head and meeting my eyes. “Okay. Call me.”

Something danced inside me, a little victory jig. I handed her my phone. Just as she was handing it back, a tall lithe girl dashed toward us from the edge of the woods. “Maddie!” Terror was written in her expression.

“Ella, what’s wrong?” Maddie jumped up from the table and rushed to the girl, taking her hands.

Ella’s face was red and she was out of breath from running. Her lip trembled as she spoke, and I could tell she was struggling not to cry. “We need help. My brother, Austin,” she gasped. “He … I think his leg is broken, or his ankle … I don’t know. He twisted it!” A teardrop streaked down her dusty cheek.

“Okay,” Maddie said, keeping her voice impressively calm. Maddie clearly knew this kid. I stood, moved to Maddie’s side. “Where is Austin now?”

“In the woods, just past the trail up the hill,” Ella said, the tears running down both cheeks now.

“We’ll come with you,” I said. “Is he alone?” There weren’t many, but there were a few predators in these woods and I didn’t like the idea of a hurt child by himself up there.

“No,” she said. “My cousin Adam is with him.”

“Let’s go, okay?” Maddie said, taking the girl’s hand.

Ella nodded and we all turned back to the woods. We dashed together through the scattered debris that littered the forest floor. West coast forests were dry and sparse compared to the dense undergrowth that made Eastern woods almost impassible, and our only impedance was the dense clutter on the ground—these woods hadn’t seen a fire in more than four decades and were filled with tinder. We skirted around Manzanita bushes and climbed over fallen logs, our feet sliding on a carpet of dry pine needles as we climbed up the hill toward the trail.

I followed just behind Maddie and the little girl, noticing how the girl grasped Maddie’s hand tightly as we moved, and I was happy she was able to comfort her. I just hoped Austin wasn’t hurt too badly, and that we’d be able to get him home before dark. The sun was already dipping low to the tree line, sending long shadows shooting over the amber ground.

The heart-wrenching cry of a small child bounced toward us, and I heard a second little voice saying, “It’s okay, Austin. They’ll be here soon. I hear them.”

We topped the rise, huffing and gasping for breath after the steep climb at high altitude. Austin and his cousin sat on the ground, Austin’s back against a boulder and his face streaked with tears and grime. He stared at his right foot as if it was no longer his, or he expected it to do something mutinous at any moment.

“Hey buddy,” I dropped to the ground beside him. “You hurt your leg, huh?”

The question brought a fresh round of tears, and the little boy sobbed uncontrollably for a minute while I rubbed his small back.

Maddie knelt on his other side. “It’s okay, Austin. We’re gonna get you home and make it feel better, okay? Can you point to the spot that hurts?”

Austin pointed to his right ankle, his face crumpling as he looked toward a tall rock up the hillside. “I jumped and my foot didn’t go right.”

The rock he was pointing to was a good fifteen feet up in the air. I raised my eyebrows, thinking he was lucky he hadn’t hurt himself much worse. Then I remembered that my sister and I had done similar things in our unattended moments up here.

“Well let’s get you down the hill and see about some ice and maybe some cookies or something, huh?” I said. Then I leaned over and scooped the little boy into my arms. “Wanna ride on my shoulders? Get a good view and tell me which way to go to get home fastest?”

“Okay,” he sniffled.

I positioned him up high on my shoulders, holding the little boy’s legs near my neck and being careful not to touch his injured ankle. “Which way, captain?” I asked.

Ella and Adam looked relieved, and both followed as Austin directed Maddie and I down the hill and back toward the village. I made a few adjustments to the course the boy set to get us back in the most expeditious fashion, explaining my changes in direction to Austin and trying to keep his mind off his leg.

“Captain, I think I saw some bandits off that way, let’s dodge around this tree here.” I tried to make our quick trip home into a game, and by the time we arrived at the Peters’ little green cabin, Austin was laughing and smiling as I brought him gently back down to the ground.

A man I’d never met stood in the street in front of the cabin Austin indicated, with a whistle in his hand. “I was just about to call you kids home,” he said, slipping the whistle into his pocket. His eyes narrowed as he took in Austin at my side. “What’s going on?”

“Ella came to get me, Mr. Peters,” Maddie explained, stepping forward. “Austin twisted his ankle up on the hill near the trail. It was lucky Connor was right there, I wouldn’t have been able to carry Austin all this way.”

“Austin navigated all the way back here,” I said, ignoring the suspicious look that Mr. Peters had trained on me. “And Adam did a great job looking out for Austin while Ella came for help. You’ve got some smart kids here, sir.”

The suspicion shifted slightly with the compliment, and Mr. Peters took Austin’s hand. “Thanks,” he said. “We do. We know it.”

Ella smiled up at us and then threw her arms around my waist. “Thanks, Mr. Connor,” she said. Maddie’s eyes glowed as she watched this, and a shy smile crept across her soft lips.

“Thank you both,” Mr. Peters said. “We appreciate you looking out for the kids.”

“Any time,” I said. “If I can ever help with anything else, let me know.”

“I hope you feel better, Austin,” Maddie said. She grinned at the little guy, who seemed comfortable enough now. I doubted it was anything too serious.

“Thanks again, to both of you,” Mr. Peters said. He shook my hand, and we turned away, heading back around the corner toward the trailer.

For a few minutes, we strolled in silence, the low light of early evening glowing around us. After a moment, Maddie turned to me. “You’re pretty good with kids.”

“That surprises you?” I’d always been better with kids than adults. I felt they were kind of like animals—they could sense intention.

“No,” She said. “I don’t know. I’m still trying to figure you out.”

“Well, when you do, let me know,” I said. “I’ve been working on it for years. And I think the cops might be interested in whatever you come up with, too.” I couldn’t help that last part.

“They’ve been around again?”

“I think we’re developing a pretty serious relationship. They come over almost every day now.” They’d interrupted my writing frenzy the day before, something I was still unhappy about. I’m sure my surly attitude hadn’t helped their