Page 32 of What Maple Heard

He looked up. His shoulders dropped — not in defeat, but in relief, like someone had lifted something heavy off them. He looked at me with the most sincere, grateful look I had ever seen on a fourteen-year-old face. Like I was the one thin thread keeping him and Maple connected right now.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Thank you, Cade.”

We went to the burger place on Main Street. It was a sunny Wednesday, the kind of fall day Chestnut Ridge was famous for.

I looked at River. “You want to sit outside? Get some fresh air?”

He nodded immediately.

I held the patio door open and looked at Maple. “All three of us could use some, I think.”

She didn’t argue.

We took the table furthest from the door, under the big umbrella, where I could see both of them and they could see each other. That was the whole point. No counter to stare at, no wall to face. Just the three of us, the fall sun, and nowhere to look except across the table.

Every single customer and member of the staff stared at my leotard, my glittery face, and the trousers bunched up on my crotch.

I caught my reflection in the restaurant window when I carried our food trays, and I couldn’t help smiling at the absurdity of the situation. I genuinely had to appreciate the full picture for a moment. Cade Sonnenberg, Sonnenberg Group, sitting at a burger restaurant in an adult-size fairy costume covered in craft glitter, trying to save what mattered most to him.

If this didn’t work, nothing would.

We ate in silence for a while. Not the comfortable kind. The kind where everyone is waiting for someone else to go first.

I nudged River’s arm.

He looked up.

I tilted my head toward Maple.

He looked at her. She was fiddling with her french fries, moving them around the container without eating them.

“I’m sorry, Maple,” River said.

She kept moving the fries.

“Maple.” His voice was smaller now. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone with them. I know that.” A pause. “Please talk to me. I’m really sorry. Please don’t—“ His voice broke. “Please don’t leave me alone.”

River was crying. Maple looked at him.

“I will never leave you.” Her voice cracked on the last word. “You are my everything, River. You understand me? You are my everything.” She pressed her mouth together. “I know what happens to boys who go down this road without someone to catch them. I know it up close. And the thought of you—“ She stopped. Started again. “This is the first time. And I believe you’ve already learned what you needed to learn. I’m not going to keep saying it over and over because that won’t teach you anything extra.” She wiped her eye with the back of her hand. “But if this happens again—“

“It won’t,” River said. “I promise. I’ll do every hour of the community service. Whatever they need. I promise, Maple. I promise.”

He leaned forward and put his arms around her and she put her arms around him and they stayed like that for a long time. Both of them crying. River’s shoulders shaking. Maple’s hand on the back of his head the way it probably had been when he was four years old when she was seventeen and they were on a bus taking them anywhere away from home.

I looked at my burger.

I gave them their moment.

After a while, Maple looked up. River was still leaning against her, his breathing evening out. She looked across the table at me. And smiled. Not coldly. Not professionally. I nodded and smiled, and picked up my burger.

On the patio around us, three different tables were definitely watching the man in the glittery green leotard eat lunch with a crying teenager and a woman who had just looked at him like he was, maybe, possibly, the smallest bit worth something after all.

I smiled into my burger.

***

Chapter 10