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“Since Burke talked some sense into me.” She sighed. “It took some time.”
“I just bet.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me, VeeBee?”
“Tell you what?”
“That you weren’t happy. That I was messing everything up. Here I thought you liked that we were friends, that you had more freedom than the other girls at school. But that was never what you needed.”
I stared hard at the heart photo magnet on the fridge of our little family, taken just a few weeks ago in the backyard. It was after the first real snowstorm of the season, and Christmas lights glimmered behind us. Latte was wearing a little green jacket and he’d licked my chin just as the timer on the camera went off, so I was laughing while Murphy hugged me. I would have been anyway, because we were stupidly happy.
Swallowing hard, I glanced down at my flat-ish belly. Or we would be, if not for this one thing I kept trying to force.
For someone who was all about fate and what was meant, I sort of sucked at letting nature take its course.
“You’re right,” I said finally, setting the cider inside the refrigerator and shutting the door. “I wanted a real home. A family. Security. Stability.”
“Of course you did. And I’m sorry I didn’t see that.”
“It wasn’t all bad. Or even most of it. You did the best you could. I know that. We had fun, and I got to have experiences traveling at a younger age than most of my friends. Just I would’ve liked seeing you more as I got older.” I lifted Latte and juggled him and the phone. “But that’s all water under the bridge. You’re happy now, and so am I.”
So much. And I was not going to mess it
up with neuroticism.
I hoped.
God, I hoped.
“I am happy, darling, and I’m so glad you are. I was thinking maybe Burke and I could come for a visit for your birthday?”
That was a few months from now. I could handle anything in the future. Besides, she really seemed to be trying, and I only had one mother.
I didn’t want this distance to remain between us. So if she was making an effort, I would too.
God help us.
“We’d love it if you visited for a few days. We’ll make arrangements as it gets closer, okay?”
“Okay. I love you, sweetheart. Don’t ever forget that. No matter what a jackass your mom is sometimes.”
I smiled through the veil of tears that wanted to break free. “I love you too, Mom.”
We hung up a little while later. Then I fed a demanding Latte before rushing upstairs to take a quick shower, spreading lotion over every inch I could reach. My period had started as predicted, so that killed my idea of trying out my new teddy along with any restorative sex.
Still, it never hurt to look as nice as first day cramps allowed. After I’d tugged on one of my cuter nighties and added some mascara and gloss, I hurried out to make sure Latte hadn’t eaten a table leg along with his chunky kibble.
He was contentedly gnawing on his green squeaky bone, his face the perfect picture of innocence—until I found the purple Converse he’d dragged into his lair. Luckily, he’d barely chewed on it, but I still pretended to scold him until he scampered up my leg for a hug.
Yeah, my kids were probably going to run wild in the streets, since Mama didn’t have a disciplinarian bone in her body.
I carted him over to the couch, about to sit down for some serious snuggles, when I noticed the folded papers tucked in the side of the planner I’d been halfheartedly working on recently. Kelsey and Sage and Ally were all into planner stuff, decorating their weekly view in their calendar and all that jazz. I was mostly just dipping a toe in, but with all the charting I’d been doing for my pregnancy planning, having a central location for it all helped.
Carefully, I set down Latte on the sofa and yanked out the papers. I didn’t need to know the best times for fucking for the foreseeable future. We would be together when the urge struck, not when my basal temperature flashed the green light.
I tore up the papers and crossed the room to toss them into the fireplace, flinging the last of them into the fire just as the front door opened and Latte went flying off the couch, barking up a storm.
Awesome timing, Dixon, as always.
