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“About her father, mostly. I think we understand each other better now.”
“That is a big talk.”
“Yeah. My baby’s growing up,” she said. “She actually suggested that I pick up my guitar again for therapy.”
“That’s a good idea. Music used to help you.”
“It used to bring you solace too,” she pointed out.
“You’re right.” I agreed with her. I was able to experience music again because of Barry.
But pain pierced my chest. Rachel had her baby. She’d had Claire all along. My baby wasn’t a baby anymore. I’d missed so much. Ella was almost the same age as Claire. I hoped the lawyer could do something, and I had to allow myself to believe in hope again because of Barry.
Would I finally be able to meet my daughter? Really talk to her?
“So, you and Barry?” My sister gestured to the couch.
Even though I had a busy day ahead, I took the time to sit down beside her and talk.
“We’re together now,” I said, and her eyes brightened.
“That’s awesome.”
“He said he talked to you.”
“He did. A couple of times,” she told me. “I like him, and I love him for you. I always have.”
“Did you know he’s a songwriter now, that he won a Grammy?” I narrowed my gaze.
“Yeah.” Looking a little guilty, she nodded.
“When did all these conversations happen?”
“Recently,” she said evasively. “He contacted me. We both love and worry about you.”
I didn’t argue the love part. “You worry because of Martin.”
“Some,” she said. “But Barry notices like I do that you take on too much for everyone else. It would be good for you to lean on us for a change.”
“I’m trying, Rach.”
“It’s difficult, I know.” She took my hand. “Dad and then Mom, they did a number on us.”
I nodded.
“But we’re stronger than them. Better. The bad cycle they started ends with us. Right?”
I didn’t know if she wanted confirmation about that for me or her, but in both cases, I could give it to her.
“We are stronger, and it does,” I said, then let out a breath. “Barry wants me to move in with him. It’s actually not optional, according to him.”
Rachel laughed, then sobered. “Do you not want to move in with him?”
“I do.” The answer came without hesitation. But then I hit her with a questioning look. “You don’t think it’s too soon?”
“I think it’s seventeen years too late.”
“I don’t like thinking about it that way.” All that time lost, but could it be reclaimed? “He wants you and Claire to come too.”
