Sitting on his porch swing, Atticus let out a breathy sigh. He watched as the Finch children ran alongside Dill, seeing who could run to Boo Radley’s, or Arthur’s, house the fastest. It had been a few quiet months since the death of Mr. Ewell and Tom Robinson.

The Finch family gained a new friend and quite the reputation following Mr. Ewell.. “falling” onto his knife, and the children.. “escaping.”

And Atticus had met you. Sweet, understanding, irresistible, you. And you sat beside him.

“I was thinking of taking the children on a summer trip.” He told you quietly, watching as Scout proudly beat Jem in some sort of game they had made up.

“Dill included, of course.”

But, the one question you had, was did it include you? Of course, you were fine if it didn’t, but..

“I’d give Cal a paid leave. Give her some time off. And then, of course, at the end of those days, you and I could have some time to ourselves.” He said calmly.

Oh, okay. It did include you. Were that churning in your stomach always there?