I ask as Bronco and Lana pull their SUV past us into the garage.
“I’m not sure. We should see what Mama, Dove, and Future want. They might be happy here, so we should be happy too. But they might be miserable. Then, we should return to your house, which is better.”
“Our house,” I remind her, and Pixie smiles as she opens the door.
Lana waves Pixie into the garage. I know they’ll get her cleaned up. I remain silent as I walk through the house out to the well-lit backyard. Bronco stands near the pool, telling Summer about Pixie nailing DeAnna in the face with a watermelon. His oldest daughter laughs while the younger two girls giggle nearby. I scan the backyard, searching for my people. Dove is in the pool with Summer, standing very still as if hiding in plain sight.
“Where are Fairuza and Future?” I ask the girls.
“Mama is on the trampoline,” Dove answers, smiling sheepishly when Bronco’s gaze falls on her.
I’ve finally caught on to how Dove acts starry-eyed with all men. She isn’t nursing a crush on any of us. She’s just weirded out by the opposite sex. With her being around fourteen, Dove’s behavior makes more sense. I’m just relieved she isn’t horny for me.
Frowning at the trampoline, I don’t see Fairuza. While Bronco continues to act out the scene for the girls, I walk farther into the yard. Only when I get closer to the trampoline do I realize Fairuza and Future are resting on their backs and looking at the stars. Pixie’s family has a way of enjoying the smallest beauty in life.
“Is the party over?” Fairuza asks while Future sits up at the sight of me.
“Yeah. Pixie got in a fight with those bitches.”
“Is she hurt?”
“I don’t know. She’s getting changed.”
“Lana’s baby is asleep,” Fairuza tells me. “Summer took Dove into the pool.”
“I see that.”
The woman gives me a soft, knowing smile. “Things come together as they’re written. I hadn’t been sure about our story yesterday or even earlier today. I am now.”
Fairuza isn’t my mom, but I still feel like a dipshit kid enjoying a compliment. I want to do right by these people. More so, I need to belong with them. Not because I have money or kill their enemies. I want them to like me.
Even after tonight’s clusterfuck, I know Pixie cares about the real me. She always finds my stories fucking brilliant. Pixie never behaves that way for anyone else. Topanga tells wild, fun stories. Plenty of people were talkative tonight. Pixie smiled, and she laughed a few times. But she never showed them what she shows me.
“Can I jump?” Pixie asks, suddenly at my side.
“Are you hurt?”
Pixie glances at her mother and then shrugs. “A little, but I still want to jump.”
I study her face until she takes my hand and rests her cheek in the palm. When I breathe normal again, she smiles and climbs into the trampoline.
“At the Collective, people struck with unhappiness would get inside one of these jumping circles and work out their dark feelings.”
Occasionally, Pixie will share something about her time at the Collective that helps me understand why those people loved their lives. They worked hard to keep their community afloat, but they also laughed and played often. I can’t imagine how tedious the Village felt to the Yabo family after they grew up in a place like the Collective.
Pixie stands on the trampoline and smiles seductively. She clearly wants me to jump, too. Yet, that’s never fucking happening. I hate jumping. I’ve always avoided the falling sensation. As a kid, I didn’t know how to control my large body and was constantly tripping. That’s why I’ll remain safely on the ground. But that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy the sight of Pixie, Fairuza, and Future holding hands and gently bouncing.
Bronco turns on the outside sound system, and one of his favorite songs by Tim McGraw begins playing. Lana appears from the house. The dogs run around after Sidonie and Desi. In the pool, Summer encourages Dove to get her hair wet.
Even with the activity around us, Pixie keeps her gaze on me. She wears a knowing smile, reminding me of her mom. Pixie understands how I’m feeling right now. After only a few days together, I sense she knows me better than I know myself. Maybe that’s just my heart talking, but I could get real used to enjoying these kinds of nights.
PIXIE
Anders watches me jump on Bronco’s trampoline. Just until