Page 47 of Finding Home

She looked down at their joined hands, at the man she’d come to know as well as herself, and thought about the next seven days.

Her new job was still real, and so was this.

She just needed to find a way to hold both at once.

Chapter 30

Julie had opened her laptop on the kitchen table at ten past six, and then moved it twice. The overhead lights were turning the screen into a mirror, so she shifted it to the left. Then she noticed the stack of mail she hadn’t dealt with and moved that off the table.

Just when she thought she was ready, she remembered to grab a glass of water. She put that beside her and emptied the dishwasher, glancing at the clock on the wall every few minutes to make sure she didn’t miss this call with her children.

At six twenty-five, she sat down and opened the Zoom link.

The call connected at six-thirty exactly. Her son appeared first, already in the frame, his dark hair a little too long the way it always was. Daniel was thirty-two and lived in Boston, and he had her eyes and his father’s particular quality of stillness. Behind him she could see his kitchen and his wife doing something behind the counter.

“Mom.” He smiled. “You look good.”

“So do you. Hi, Maddie,” she said to Daniel’s wife.

Maddie waved. “Hi, Julie. I keep telling Dan he needs a haircut, but he’s going for the urban Neanderthal look.”

Daniel laughed, and a second Zoom window opened beside his. Meg blinked into the camera from Portland, still in her work clothes, her jacket thrown over the back of her chair. She was twenty-eight and had never once in her life been on time for anything. The fact that she was here, on the dot, meant she’d been looking forward to it.

“Both of you at once,” Julie said. “I should tell you I’ve got important things to talk to you about more often.”

“You should call more often,” Meg said. “Full stop.”

Julie knew she should, but she felt incredibly guilty for not being the mother her children deserved. So, instead of talking to them more often, she’d kept them at arm’s length, worried they’d reject any relationship with her.

For a while they just talked. Daniel had a new project at work that involved working with a team of regional planning experts. He explained it with the careful precision he always did.

Meg had finally found an apartment with a second bedroom, which meant Julie could now visit without sleeping on the sofa.

Julie told them about the cooking class and the fundraiser bake sale, and about Maria’s husband finally finding work. She told them about the lake in the mornings and the way the cold had settled in for good.

Daniel asked about the town, and she told him about the old-fashioned stores that lined Main Street, the craft fairs and exhibitions that brought people to Sapphire Bay from around Montana, and the candy store that her children had to see. But Julie’s biggest surprise was that she knew most of the people she passed on the street.

“That’s not like you, Mom. You usually take ages to get to know people,” Daniel said, not unkindly.

“Or ever,” Meg said with a sigh.

That hit closer to home for Julie. “You’re both right. Sapphire Bay has been good for me. Even though I’ve found it hard not working, I’ve met some lovely people. They’re kind and generous, and treat me like family. I’ve never been anywhere like this.”

Meg had been watching her with the quiet attention she had always had, even as a child. She had a journalist’s instinct for when someone was circling something. Julie had often wondered where she had gotten it from.

“You said you had news,” Meg said.

Julie wrapped both hands around her glass of water. “Griffin Rowe called me. He’s the editor at the Flathead Beacon, the regional paper based in Kalispell.” She paused. Julie had been thinking about how to say this all day, and now that she was talking to her children, the words felt smaller than they should. “He offered me a position. I’ll be a senior investigative reporter.”

Daniel and Meg didn’t say anything. Then Meg put both hands over her mouth.

“Mom.” Daniel leaned forward. “That’s wonderful. When did you find out?”

“Yesterday. I pulled over to take the call and sat in my truck for ten minutes afterward.”

“Senior investigative reporter,” Meg said, dropping her hands. Her eyes were bright. “After everything. After all those rejection emails you didn’t think I knew about.”

“I knew you knew,” Julie said.