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I’m sad for myself. I’m sad that I actually put up with that. That I thought I was wrong. I’m sad that I felt ashamed for feeding Katie on my own damn sofa. I’m sad that when Kevin cheated, I blamed myself. I’m sad that I wasted so much fucking time on him.
But with Fiona on one side of me and Candice on the other, with my mother calling out threats against Kevin like it’s her job, I let out a little teary laugh. My kids are sick, vomiting, and my life is a mess…but I have support. I have a family.
“There,” Candice says when I let out a sigh. “See? We got you.”
I look at my sister and give her a smile. “Remember a few months ago when you asked if Iliana was the one who had it all figured out?”
Our younger sister is a free spirit. She’s been traveling for years, and always seems to land on her feet. I think she’s had about a thousand boyfriends and none of them have stuck, but she’s been happy. Free.
Candice smiles. “Iliana is different from you and me, Trina.”
“I know,” I reply, resting my head on her shoulder. “But I was just thinking that actually, she might be the one who’s missing out by not being here with us.”
Candice clicks her tongue, squeezing me tight, and my mother comes over to wrap all three of us in a big, motherly hug. When she backs away, she’s got tears in her eyes.
Mr. Fuzzles, who has been out of sight most of the day, appears from under the sofa. With a surprisingly powerful jump, he leaps into my lap and curls up on top of me, promptly falling asleep. My heart nearly gives out at the feel of his little warm body snuggled up against me.
Maybe I am a cat person.
After a few minutes, conversation drifts to more neutral topics. Candice’s house will be ready for me, my mother, and the kids to move into in two weeks, just in time for the start of the school year. Fiona is helping Clancy choose colleges to apply to, and she’s brimming with pride for her stepdaughter. Her wedding preparations are well underway. My mother bought a new outfit from a local shop and can’t wait to wear it when she’s out with Margaret and Dorothy next week.
When I ask where they’re planning to go, she grins. “Well, a certain Scottish bar owner seems to have taken a liking to a certain hotel owner, and she seems to be enjoying the attention.”
“Hamish?” I ask, not sure how to feel about that. “And…Margaret?”
My mother smiles wide. “Dorothy wants Eli to meet him.” Eli is Dorothy’s partner. They met a couple of years ago, when Simone and Wes started dating. They’re perfect for each other.
Then Candice glances at me. “Mac was asking about you today.” Her eyes twinkle. “He offered to deliver your pottery in person.”
I stare at her, horrified.
My sister cackles. “I figured that would be your reaction, which is why I said it probably wasn’t the right time to come visit you.”
“Thank God.”
“Do you think he’d let me ride his motorcycle?” my mother asks, reaching for another of the admittedly addictive chocolate-caramel cookies.
I freeze. “Mom…”
“Trina, I’m in my seventies, and there’s a sexy younger man with a hot bike. What kind of person would I be if I didn’t ask him to take me for a ride?”
“Um, the normal kind?”
Candice snorts, then throws me a sideways glance. “Pick your battles, Trina. If Mom wants to ride on Mac’s bike, I’d put money on the fact that she’ll end up on it.”
The worst part is, I know it’s true.
“I just need to get through Kevin’s visit this weekend. Can we leave the motorcycle riding until after that?”
“I’m not making any promises,” my mother announces.
Then, the four of us hear movement upstairs, and my mother—nutty, thrill-seeking, but incredibly loving and supportive—puts out a hand. “My turn. I’ll go check on them. You relax, Trina.”
Having moved to stand up, I pause, glance down at the kitten in my lap, and lean back again. After a brief hesitation, I help myself to another cookie. Mr. Fuzzles purrs against me, lifting his head to demand more scratches. I oblige, and finally let a smile curl over my lips.
“What?” Fiona sips her tea, arching a brow.
“I was just imagining the look on Kevin’s face if he saw my mother riding a motorcycle.” I laugh, shaking my head. “He’d be horrified.” When the two of them don’t answer, I give them a grin. “That’s a good thing.”
