Where We Used to Roam Jenn Bishop (red white royal blue TXT) 📖

breaks the silence. “Now, I forget, Tyler, are you an only child or do you have siblings?”

“Just me,” he says. “Why mess with perfection?”

Oh, Tyler.

I wish he could come with us to Yellowstone, but even if Delia said he could, I doubt that his grandmother would be okay with it. When I get back, we’ll have only three weeks left together. Just thinking about that makes my heart twinge.

I know I need to go home, but every now and then there are these moments when I just want to stay.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

By Friday evening we’re all packed up for the trip. Chris says we have to leave at the crack of dawn, which I have to say seems pretty unlikely given how late Sadie’s been sleeping in since summer school ended, but I let him believe that for now. Earlier, Sadie apologized for the things she said last night, and I forgave her.

The thing is, she isn’t entirely wrong. What she said was true; it just wasn’t nice. Sort of like what I said about Becca’s kitty blanket.

At least Sadie didn’t wait so long to make things right.

As the sun sets, I’m on the living room sofa trying to finish my buffalo book. I was making good progress on it before I got derailed with all the reading for the Becca box. Of course her favorite books have to be five-hundred-page fantasy novels and not something I could read faster, like comic books or graphic novels.

Now that I’m down to the last thirty pages and about to leave for Yellowstone, I’m even more excited to see bison in person again. Delia mapped out all the spots they frequent so we can maximize our chances of seeing them. Sadie’s now referring to the trip as BisonFest, which I think is a sign that even though she’s bummed to be away from her friends for a week, she’s not that bummed.

Dumbledore is licking my big toe—that cat, man—when my phone starts buzzing. “Mom?”

“Emma! So glad we’re able to catch you before you left! I wasn’t sure how cell reception would be in the park.”

“Hey, E!” Dad chimes in.

Ever since I’ve been in Wyoming, they’ve called this way. It’s kind of dorky, imagining them hovering over the same cell phone just to talk to me, but also kind of sweet.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, hon. Everything’s great,” Mom says. “We just got off the phone with the supervisor, and everything’s a go with your brother tomorrow.”

“He’s coming home!” I bolt up on the sofa, my sudden movement sending Dumbledore scampering off.

“He’s coming home,” Dad repeats. Only his voice doesn’t sound as excited as mine. He sounds almost worried, which is strange because out of the two of them, Mom’s usually the bigger worrier.

“He’s made really good progress over the past thirty days,” Mom says. “He’ll still be attending group meetings every day and seeing his counselor twice a week—at least to start.”

“Did you get to talk to him?”

“Not yet, nope,” Mom says. “But we’ve been sending him letters. There’s this local support group I started going to, up on the North Shore. It’s been really good to meet other folks who’ve gone through this. It’ll be nice to have their support when Austin’s back.”

“That’s great, Mom. Have you… have you told anyone in town yet?”

Dad clears his throat. “About that, Emma.”

“Actually—” Mom butts in.

“Let me say my piece,” Dad says, “and then you can say yours.”

My heart starts palpitating a little. My parents never used to fight, but it’s hard to ignore how they sound right now. Like they’re not on the same page at all.

“Sorry, Emma,” Mom says. For a moment there’s only silence, and I can’t tell if they’ve muted the phone for a second or if they’re just mouthing at each other.

“Your mom and I have had a hard time deciding the best way to come forward about Austin,” Dad finally says.

“So it’s still a secret?”

“Not exactly,” Mom says. “Once Austin is home, it’ll be easier to suss this all out, but for the time being, we’ve just been keeping things close to the vest. With Dad being in the public eye so much, it’s… it’s just tricky, is all.”

“Do any of your friends know?”

“Only Delia,” Mom says.

My heart breaks, thinking about how for the past four weeks, Mom’s gone to her shop and not been able to tell anyone what’s really going on. Not even Betsy? How has she done it? How has she lasted? I don’t know how I would have survived this summer if I hadn’t come here. If I hadn’t found Tyler.

“It’s not fair to Austin,” Dad says, “to go around spreading his private business. He’s just a kid—he’s just…” His voice is all choked up, and now I wish I hadn’t asked the question in the first place.

“I’m sorry,” I say, my voice starting to waver. I should be there with them for this, not two thousand miles away.

“Oh, Emma. No, no, no. You have nothing to be sorry for. And you’re going to have such a great time at Yellowstone. I can hardly wait to hear all about it.” Mom again.

“Take lots of pictures,” Dad says, his voice sounding close to normal.

“I will. What time are you picking Austin up tomorrow?”

“Three o’clock,” Dad says. “Cape traffic on Saturday will be a real beast, though, so who knows what time we’ll be back home. It might be easier to FaceTime on Sunday, now that I’m thinking about it. How about we plan on that, E?”

“In the morning?” With the time difference, that probably makes sense. It’s two hours later for them, and I don’t mind getting up early. Especially for Austin.

“Sure,” Mom says. “Nine o’clock your time, eleven ours? How does that sound?”

“Sounds good.”

“We miss you, kiddo,” Dad says.

“So much,” Mom adds. “It’s way too quiet here. I’m not ready to be an empty nester, that’s for sure. I think we’ll have to get a dog or something once you’re off to