its not easy but its mine

The sun was already warm against the windows by the time Lexie rolled over, her arm instinctively reaching for the baby monitor before she even opened her eyes. Alaina’s babbling came through crackly but clear — happy squeals punctuated by something crashing. Not great.

Lexie groaned. “Please don’t let that be the lamp again.”

She sat up, rubbing sleep from her eyes. It wasn’t even 8 a.m., and the house was already alive. Somewhere down the hall, Charlotte was singing — loudly — and Parker was thudding around in his room like a herd of elephants. It was summer, sure, but rest? That was a myth.

Padding across the creaky hardwood floor, she peeked into Alaina’s room and froze. The toddler stood triumphantly in her crib, holding her favorite stuffed rabbit upside-down by the leg. Somehow, a pile of wipes had made it from the changing table onto the floor — some used, some... hopefully not.

“Morning, monster,” Lexie said dryly, scooping her up. “You planning to destroy the entire house before breakfast?”

Alaina giggled and patted Lexie’s cheek with a damp hand. Great.

By the time she got to the kitchen, Charlotte was already there — barefoot, still in pajamas, dripping wet from the chest up.

Lexie blinked. “Why are you—are you soaked?”

Charlotte beamed. “I was trying to make my hair like mermaid waves. I used the hose.”

Lexie stared. “You went outside. In your pajamas. To hose your head.”

“I put the nozzle on mist!” she defended.

Lexie pressed a palm to her forehead. “You are absolutely not going swimming today.”

“But it’s so hot, Lexie! Please? The fair is this weekend, and you promised today could be the pool.”

“Charlotte, it’s barely morning,” Lexie said, eyeing the clock and trying to calculate how many hours she still had to survive. “Let me get coffee and survive one tantrum from Alaina before I even think about the word ‘pool.’”

“Pooool!” Alaina shrieked from her high chair, now pounding a spoon on the tray like it was a war drum.

Lexie turned, horrified. “You don’t even know what that word means.”

Charlotte smirked. “She’s on my side.”

Parker wandered in a moment later, tousled and yawning, already dressed in athletic shorts and a T-shirt. “Hey, can I go to Lincoln’s today? We’re playing video games and maybe biking.”

Lexie gave him a look. “Did you clean your room like I asked last night?”

“I meant to. But then we all stayed up watching that movie and—”

“Uh-huh. No room clean, no Lincoln. Try again.”

Parker groaned and slumped into a chair like she’d personally destroyed his will to live.

Lexie glanced between the three of them — soaked, stubborn, and sticky — and reached for the coffee pot like it was the only thing tethering her to sanity.

“I swear, I used to dream about summer,” she muttered. “Now I just survive it.”

Charlotte perked up. “But the fair’s this weekend! Can we get cotton candy this time? Not just popcorn?”

Parker leaned forward. “And can I go on the big ride with Lincoln and the guys this year? Please? I’m tall enough now.”

Lexie blinked. “One thing at a time, people. Let’s make it through today without anyone setting something on fire or flooding the kitchen, and we’ll talk fair.”

Charlotte looked like she was already calculating the lowest possible bar she could clear. Parker mumbled something under his breath about how nobody else had to clean their rooms first, and Alaina shoved her soggy rabbit into her cereal bowl with alarming pride.

Lexie didn’t even flinch.

It took a full twenty minutes of haggling before Lexie agreed to let Charlotte swim, but only after inspecting the pool and realizing it needed a serious skimming. Leaves floated lazily across the surface, and some questionable bugs had taken up residence since their last swim day. Charlotte didn’t care—she was already halfway into her ruffled pink swimsuit with the tutu attached before Lexie even got the skimmer out of the shed.

“I’ll do it!” Charlotte offered, reaching for the long pole with both hands and immediately smacking the side of the fence with it. “I’ve got this!”

“You’re going to break something,” Lexie warned, gently pulling it out of her grip. “Go get your towel and the mermaid goggles. I’ll do the cleaning.”

Charlotte huffed dramatically but did as she was told. Alaina sat on the patio in her playpen, chewing on a sippy cup and humming to herself like she had no idea what chaos meant. Lexie envied her.

Parker had vanished to his room after their morning standoff, only reappearing around noon with his hair wet and his attitude slightly improved. Lexie raised an eyebrow.

“I cleaned it. All of it. Even the socks behind the dresser.”

She gave him a skeptical look. “You sure?”

He shrugged, tugging open the fridge and grabbing a juice box. “I mean, I think one’s still stuck, but I couldn’t reach it without moving the whole thing.”

Lexie exhaled and let it go. “Thanks. Go enjoy the sun before it disappears again.”

“Can I call Lincoln?” he asked, already reaching for his phone. “We wanted to practice wheelies.”

“Helmets,” she called as he disappeared through the sliding glass door. “And I swear if you ride on the street without me watching—”

“I won’t!” he shouted back.

By early afternoon, Charlotte was swimming laps—well, her version of laps, which mostly involved floating dramatically with her eyes closed and occasionally shouting “Look at me! I’m magical!” Alaina had fallen asleep in the shade, one chubby arm flung over her stuffed rabbit, while Lexie finally got to sit down with an iced coffee and let herself breathe. She pulled out her phone and texted Jaxon.

Lexie: All three still alive. Pool functional. Barely hanging on.

The reply came quickly.

Jaxon: Proud of you, Davis. I’m halfway through a double shift with four back-to-back calls. Want to trade?

She smiled.

Lexie: Only if you bring coffee and fries when you get off in the morning.

Jaxon :Deal.Save me a couch cushion and whatever’s left of your sanity.

Lexie smirked, pocketing the phone. She could already picture his crooked grin and the way Charlotte would tackle him the second he walked in the door. Not that she was counting the hours—but yeah, she kind of was.

Parker clipped his helmet under his chin and glanced back toward the house. Lexie wasn’t at the door—no waving, no last-minute warnings. Good. He pushed off from the driveway and pedaled fast down the street, cutting around the corner like he always did. The summer heat clung to the pavement, and the wind in his face felt like freedom.

Lincoln and Mateo were already at the park, their bikes dumped in the grass. Lincoln was kicking a soccer ball in lazy circles, and Mateo sat on the bench tearing into a granola bar.

“Took you long enough,” Lincoln called.

“Lexie made me clean my room,” Parker said, dropping his bike beside theirs.

Mateo smirked. “You clean your room? Yeah, okay.”

“I vacuumed,” Parker muttered. “Kind of.”

Lincoln grinned. “Let me guess—you shoved everything into your closet and hoped for the best.”

Parker didn’t bother denying it. He flopped onto the grass beside them and nodded toward the open field. “You guys still going to the fair?”

“Yeah,” Lincoln said. “My grandma already got our wristbands. She said I can stay late if I help her clear out the garage.”

Mateo wiped crumbs off his shirt. “We’re going Friday night. My mom made me promise I wouldn’t throw up this time.”

“You puked in a trash can,” Parker reminded him, grinning.

Mateo held up his hands. “It was one chili dog.”

Parker laughed, then leaned back on his elbows. “Lexie’s taking us. Charlotte’s already planning her outfit. It’s gonna be glitter and sparkles and probably a unicorn wand.”

Lincoln shook his head. “You’re riding the big one this year?”

“I’m tall enough now,” Parker said. “Lexie measured me.”

“Is she gonna let you?”

“I’m not asking,” Parker said, sharper this time. “I’m just gonna ride it.”

Lincoln gave him a long look, then nodded. “Front row?”

Parker hesitated for half a second. “Front row.”

They spent the next hour riding trails behind the park, daring each other to go faster, taking turns over a bumpy ramp Lincoln had built. Parker scraped his elbow and didn’t care. He laughed when Mateo hit the brakes too late and wiped out in the grass. For a little while, he didn’t have to think about anyone but himself.

Still, even as they laughed and talked, Lexie’s voice echoed in the back of his head—we’ll see. He hated “we’ll see.” It was a maybe disguised as control. He didn’t want permission. He wanted to prove he was ready.

He got home just as the sky started to fade gold. The house looked quiet. His bike clicked as he rolled it behind the gate and took the back steps two at a time. Inside, he heard the hum of the dishwasher and Charlotte’s voice reciting something from a show. Alaina shrieked from somewhere near the living room, followed by the unmistakable crash of a plastic bowl hitting the floor.

Lexie was at the kitchen sink, elbow-deep in soap suds. She didn’t look up. “Back in one piece?”

“More or less,” he said, slipping off his shoes.

She glanced at him, spotted the new scrape, and shook her head. “No blood on the floor.”

“I’ll try.”

He slipped into his room and shut the door. It was quiet here. He opened the top drawer of his dresser and pulled out the flyer, edges curled from being handled too much. Ravenswood Summer Fair — this weekend. The ride was right there in the picture. The drop. The loop. The words You Must Be This Tall stamped in bold across the sign. He grabbed Lexie’s ruler from the desk and lined it up against the old pencil mark on his wall. He was over the line. Not by a lot, but enough.

He folded the flyer again and slid it back into the drawer. He didn’t need to ask. Not this time.

When he came out, Charlotte was dancing in the living room with a wand in one hand and Alaina clinging to her leg like a koala. Lexie moved around the kitchen like she was held together by habit. No one noticed as he slipped into a chair at the table.

Lexie set a glass of lemonade down in front of him a minute later, no questions asked.

The fair was coming. And Parker was ready.

The house had finally settled. Dishes were done. Charlotte was in her pajamas, curled up in her bed with her stuffed dolphin and a pile of picture books she insisted she could read on her own. Lexie had already tucked her in twice—once with water, once with an extra blanket she claimed she didn’t need but might need “just in case the air gets cold.” Alaina had gone down easier than expected, her little body worn out from splashing and chaos, tucked into her crib with her bunny pressed tight under one arm.

Lexie lingered at Parker’s door for a second before knocking once and peeking in.

He was already in bed, stretched across the middle like he’d been there for hours. The flyer wasn’t in sight anymore. Just a book half-open on the blanket beside him and his arm draped behind his head like he hadn’t just been thinking a million things.

“You good?” she asked softly.

He nodded. “Yeah.”

Lexie stepped inside and pulled the blanket a little higher over his legs. It was a small thing, but she always did it—had for years now. Ever since those first nights when she wasn’t sure either of them were going to make it through.

“I’m glad you had a good day,” she murmured.

Parker didn’t answer right away. Then, quietly, “Do you think I could ride it this year? The big one?”

Lexie froze for half a second, then smoothed the corner of his blanket without looking up. “I think... we’ll see. I just want to make sure it’s safe.”

“I’m tall enough,” he said quickly, sitting up slightly. “You measured me. You said so.”

“I did.” She met his eyes, her voice gentle. “But being tall enough isn’t everything. It’s fast, and high, and you’ve got to be ready for that.”

“I am,” he said, not snapping, but close.

Lexie reached out and brushed his hair back, her hand pausing for a moment at the top of his head. “Okay. We’ll talk about it more before we go.”

Parker looked away, sinking back into the pillow. “Fine.”

She leaned down and kissed his forehead. “Goodnight, kid.”

“Night.”

She turned to leave but paused at the door, watching him a second longer. He looked smaller somehow, lying there in the quiet. Still just a boy, even when he tried to act like he wasn’t. Lexie closed the door halfway behind her, the soft click echoing down the dim hallway.

The fair was days away. And so was that ride.

But so much could happen in just a few days.