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I took a deep breath. “It shouldn’t have taken me this long to reach out to you.”
“You say that like I’m surprised it did,” she teased.
I exhaled a laugh. “I’m a little slow to process things sometimes. The twins stopped by the gym, but I think they could tell I wasn’t really ready to talk about it.”
“Well, if it helps, Logan wasn’t exactly jumping up and down for joy about it either,” she admitted. “But he said that as long as he still gets to walk me down the aisle, he doesn’t care who’s sitting in that church.”
“For as much as he and I are alike,” I said, “he’s way more levelheaded than I am.”
“True,” Molly agreed easily.
I glared at the screen, and my sister laughed.
“You know what knocked some sense into me today?”
“So hard to say.”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help but smile. “So much of what I remember about Brooke is just … muddled. When I actually try to remember what it was like when she was our mom, most of my memories are fuzzy.” I exhaled. “And I was listening to a seven-year-old girl talking about memories of her own mom, and I realized that so much of what scares me about Brooke showing up isn’t even based on what I remember of her.”
Molly’s brow furrowed as she listened, but she didn’t interrupt.
“I cannot predict, no matter how much I try to imagine it, what she might say or do. And there is nothing more terrifying to me,” I admitted quietly.
“Brooke is something you can’t control.”
Eventually, I nodded. “Maybe it doesn’t make sense, but even hearing you, or Claire, or Lia say that I don’t have to talk to her if I don’t want to made it even worse. Because what if she is awful?” I paused. “What if she’s awful to you? Or the twins? I will never forgive myself if I wasn’t right next to you for that.”
Molly smiled. “Even if she comes, and even if she’s not a perfect guest, we’d handle it.” She shrugged. “That’s what we do, you know?”
“I would shank her ass if she ruined your wedding day.”
She laughed. “I know.”
Emmett ran into the house, breathless and red-faced. “Iz? Umm, we have a problem.”
“What is it?”
“Hi, Emmett,” Molly called.
He ignored her, and a pit yawned wide and dark in my belly. “Anya and I were playing in the treehouse, and umm, she wanted to show me something, and …” He paused, his hands wringing nervously. “She kinda … climbed out on one of the branches, and now she can’t get down.”
“Oh, shit,” I breathed. “Molly, hang on.”
Her face bent in concern. “Can I call someone to come help?”
I threw the slider into the backyard open. “Everyone’s gone,” I hissed. “That’s why I’m here.”
“Who’s on the branch?” Molly asked.
I gave her a look. “Aiden’s daughter.”
“Oh, shit.”
I walked around the tree and saw her. Anya was on a branch even higher than the roof of the treehouse. She was gripping it tightly, her legs dangling on either side.
“Can you help me get down, Miss Isabel?” she asked, voice wobbly with nerves.
“Yeah, sweetie, I will be right there, okay? You are doing great sitting there like that,” I answered with way more fucking calm than I was feeling.
