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Chapter Eight

April

Ten and a quarter months ago

"Hey, babe."

"Hi," I call over my shoulder.

The screen door slams before his voice whispers over my cheek. "Aren't you getting eaten alive out here?" His lips land softly on my skin. He lets them linger like he's breathing me in after a long, hard day and I'm the only balm that can soothe away the grit. I allow myself to concentrate only on that feeling and nothing else until he takes them away. When he does, I feel a little sad. I want them back.

"A little," I reply, slapping one that just took a vial full of blood from my thigh.

The mosquitos are horrible this year. We had more than double the rain we normally get in the spring. The fields had standing water for weeks, which not only caused delays getting the crops planted, but was the perfect breeding ground for mosquitos the size of fists. The county wanted to crop dust some of the worst spots with an organophosphate insecticide to try to control them, but they were met with huge opposition by not only farmers but a band of mothers who "don't want their kids getting cancer in five years from the chemicals that will end up in our drinking water."

My opinion is we're all going to die of something, so just spray the fuckers so we can all enjoy the outdoors with the little time we have left. But in the end, they didn't. I've now been outside all of ten minutes and have half a dozen bites.

"I tried that new organic repellent MaryLou was going on about." She wouldn't shut up about it until I did.

"Yeah?" He chuckles as I shoo another flying, bloodsucking fiend away. "How's that working out for you?"

I crane my neck to look at my husband and practically melt with the adoration I see shining down at me. It makes my eyes burn a little. Jordan grabs my hand, bringing it to his smiling lips as I say, "I'm going back to cancer-inducing deet."

He full-on laughs before kissing my cheek, announcing, "Your mom stopped by my office today."

I groan. Of course she did. When she doesn't get her way from me, she goes straight to Jordan. I've been avoiding her for the past two weeks. I know what she wants and I can't stomach the thought.

Three weeks have passed since Jon visited me at the bakery. Sam ignores me, as usual, except if she needs something. And my mother? Well, either she can't sense the tension between the four of us when we're together or she just plain doesn't care. I would vote for the latter. So a family dinner to celebrate Sam's little declaration is the last thing I want to do.

"Let me guess. I've been trying to reach April. She's ignoring me, as usual. I thought perhaps you could talk some sense into her. You always can," I mock my mother in her superior-sounding voice.

He slides into the seat beside me with ease. He's still all dressed from work in his pants and button down, tie dangling undone. He must be dying of heat.

"Pretty much sums up our conversation."

I stay quiet. A quick flash of yellow from the yard draws my attention. By the time I look, it's gone. Then it appears again slightly to the left.

Fireflies. I love fireflies. Used to catch jarfuls of them when I was a kid. Then I would release them the next day because I felt bad living while they slowly died.

"You can't ignore her forever, April. We need to go."

"I don't want to." Dammit, I want to add, but don't. I will sound like a spoiled brat if I do.

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