“Sydney.” Margaret brushes my arm.
I blink back to the table. My mother-in-law. Her warm eyes hold a hint of concern. “Sorry. What did you think about going to the festival?”
“I hadn’t thought about it, with the wedding and everything,” Margaret replies.
“If anyone wants to tag along, I’m planning to go.”
I glance around the room, keeping my expression easy, pretending I don’t care who says they’ll come. But I know who I want to join. He won’t, though,not until I tell him I’m in. All in. No more fucking around in. Jules catches me looking and smirks. She knows. Of course she does.
“Aunt Sydney, can we come with you?” Beck looks up from his phone.
I blink, momentarily caught off guard. It’s hard to reconcile Beck and Leo as tweens, so far from the sticky-fingered, babbling toddlers they once were, now with the long, skinny legs of a colt, ready to burst and take off. Their worlds have expanded beyond their parents, filled now with screens and friends. Their conversations are quick, their attention split. Their needs are different. Jules says this stage is more about being present when they invite you in.
Anna, even in her small orbit, is beginning to show her independence. She has opinions, clear likes, and dislikes. She chooses who she trusts. One day, she’ll step into her own life. And loving her will mean giving her space to grow, to fail, to rise. She won’t need someone to hold her tight. She’ll need someone who knows when to let her fly.
A mother who shows her how to take risks.
“You bet. Want to leave around eleven?” I smile at Beck and Leo.
They nod, already back to their digital worlds.
Anna slides a bite of pancake to Bell, who rewards her with a slobbery kiss, sending her squealing.
“Anna, don’t feed the dog,” Mason scolds. “It’s not nice table manners.”
“Hush, Mason. Anna can do what she wants,” Gary scolds. “James, what project are you working on out West? Must have been pretty late when you got in last night if you missed all the bachelorette festivities.”
Mason’s eyes shift from me to James. I see the wheels turning, wondering if we saw each other. I do my best to keep heat from rising in my cheeks. Across the table, James clears his throat, his expression unreadable, though I’d bet his thoughts jump to the same place.
“I’ve got a few homes in the design phase outside of L.A.,” he answers, gaze fixed on his coffee, not bothering to acknowledge the rest.
“Mom, do you think we could have chicken parmesan tonight for dinner? Since we all learned it is James’s favorite.” Ivy’s voice slices through the room, sweet and sharp all at once:
The words land hard, and the silence that follows is palpable. The tone. The glance. Her eyes widen, as if she hears what she let slip. Her frustration has broken through the carefully painted veneer. She recovers fast, smile sliding back into place.
“I think it would be nice since your mom and Darrell arrive today. What time do they get in?”
James, unsure of the minefield, tentatively says, “I’m leaving soon to pick them up. Their flight lands at ten.”
“Should I come with you? It’d be nice to meet your mom before everyone swarms her.”
Jules lets out a short, dry laugh. The kind that stings.
“Something you want to say?” Ivy stiffens.
“I think you already know, Ives.” Jules unapologetically doubles down.
And with that, she stands, gathering empty plates, her words ricocheting around the table.
“Jules, I need to speak with you. On the back deck. Now.” Margaret’s tone is firm.
It startles the table into silence, and we watch them walk off, bickering in whispers. The only thing I hear before the back deck door slams is Margaret saying, “Stay out of it. It’s her choice.” On the back deck, Jules’s hands fly, continuing their argument.
With her head held high, Ivy pushes back from the table, giving no ounce of emotion other than her abrupt withdrawal.
Everyone’s eyes stay on their plates.
“Uh oh!” Anna’s cry breaks through as her juice tips over, spilling across the table.
