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“Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate’s life for me.”
Chapter 9
Thanks again for inviting me,” Bryce said the next morning, sighing as her feet soaked in a scented pedicure bath. Imani sat in the chair on one side and Kate Sweet-Matthews sat on the other side. “This is the most relaxed I’ve been in…honestly, I’m not sure.”
Imani squeezed Bryce’s hand. “Self-care is not selfish. It wasn’t too long ago that I felt like you—overwhelmed and frantic on a daily basis. I promised myself I wouldn’t neglect my mental recharge again, and since then I’ve been careful to carve out pockets of me-time. Whether it’s dancing by myself in the studio or getting a pedi with friends, it’s important to remind yourself you deserve good things.”
Kate nodded. “Mmm. I needed this reminder. It’s harder to be a working mom than I expected. I feel so much freaking guilt. All the time.”
Bryce’s ears perked up. Kate looked like she always had everything under control when she met up with Imani at PattyCakes armed with spreadsheets and planners. “You feel guilty? Why? I mean, you’re the picture-perfect working mom. You’re all I aspire to be in a mom-like creature.”
Kate popped open one green eye and shook her head. “I don’t feel like anyone’s aspiration. When I’m with Elise, I worry I’m neglecting my business or putting too much off on Carl or Imani. But then when I’m working at an event, all I can think of is if poor Elise is suffering in some way because she doesn’t have her mother there. I feel like I’m never where I’m needed, never doing what I should be doing, and I’m always feeling guilty. Work-life balance is a myth. Both are never equal on the effort scale and they’re rarely harmonious—one side or another is always needing more attention. It’s toxic to imply an equal balance between work and personal life exists. At least for me.”
“Jesus. It’s like you’re living in my head,” Bryce muttered and was surprised when they both laughed. “The difference is, we all knowyou’rea great mom-like creature. It’s pretty unanimous that I’m failing in that regard.”
Kate scowled, her auburn head tilting. “Not true. Imani told me the other day how she loves the way you interact with your nieces.”
Imani nodded. “I see the other moms—dads too—watch you chase your girls after dance class, playing like you’re a monster. Their kids beg them to do the same, and it’s hilarious to watch some of those parents attempt to be lighthearted and silly with their own kids. You’re naturally gifted at play—freeing my inner child is something I had to learn from Zander. I never met Bentley, but Heather was one of my volunteers at my first-ever recital, and I think she’d be happy they’d chosen you as the girls’ guardian.”
Bryce flushed under the compliment. She’d never had many female friends growing up, always playing football with the boys or tinkering on cars with her dad. Working at Chez Pierre, it was all men with her in the kitchen. Her time around other women was limited, so when Imani invited her for a girls’ day out while her nieces were at school, she’d asked Patty, who’d readily agreed, saying it was about time Bryce took a few hours off.
“I appreciate you two saying so, but Heather’s parents think otherwise. They’ve filed papers contesting me as guardian, because they don’t think I can provide the stable home environment the girls need.” Bryce grimaced, thinking of the upcoming meeting with the judge. “Fun is synonymous with slacking, and they feel that they’d be a better choice to raise the girls. Honestly, some days, I think they’re right.”
Both Imani and Kate objected, their voices indignant.
“Have either of them had the girls for any significant chunk of time?” Kate asked. “Because parenting is exhausting, and they’re retired. They’ve already raised their child.”
“And she died,” Bryce reminded herself and her friends. “Heather was their world, and she’s gone. The girls are all they have left of their daughter, and they want to raise them.”
Imani jutted her chin the way she did when the dancers weren’t listening. “It’s one thing to think your way of loving them is the best way. But Kate’s right. They haven’t done daily caregiving for more than a couple days at a time, have they?”
Bryce pondered this. “When Bentley and Heather were in the car accident, it took me four days to give my notice, pack my apartment, and drive up. During that time, the Paynes were in the hospital by Heather’s bedside. If I recall, the girls stayed with their friends’ parents until I got to town. They kept them for three days while my dad came up and helped me figure out funeral arrangements and settle Bentley’s plumbing business.”
“It’s one thing to be the grandparents who get to whisk in and spoil the kids rotten, but another to care for them full time,” Imani insisted as the pedicurist put on her color choice—one called Salsa Red. “Trust me. After my mom died, Gigi became a second mother to me, but she only had me summer vacations and that was enough for her. My dad still did the daily parenting, and during the year after our house burned down and we lost everything, Katie’s folks stood in full time. I’ll always be thankful for how they took me under their wing, although I was moody and angsty and it was a heavy lift to parent a grieving teen.”
“You weren’t so moody and angsty as you think.” Kate admired her nail polish being applied—a happy pink color called Party Dress. “But your point is valid. I wonder if the Paynes know the saying ‘Be careful what you wish for,’ because I’m not sure they’re ready to parent three young girls.”
“Well, it’s up to the judge.” Bryce kept her tone easy-breezy, but her heart thudded every time she thought about the upcoming trial. “We’ll find out soon enough if the Paynes are up to the task of parenting for more than a weekend. When the girls are off school for spring break, I’m taking my paid vacation week from PattyCakes to go to a Niagara Falls restaurant and fill in as sauté chef for some extra cash to pay my legal fees. Harvey and Adele will watch the girls while I’m gone and then the judge will decide on guardianship.”
“It’ll all work out in the end,” Imani said with conviction.
The pedicurist tapped Bryce’s leg. “What color do you want?”
Bryce fingered the binder ring fat with multicolored plastic strips of long, fake nails spiraling out like a technicolor medieval weapon. She’d been cycling through color choices as they talked. Salsa Red and Party Dress weren’t for her. She was drawn to the purple shades, and she recalled the picture of Ryker in Patty’s shop, decked out in his Silver Star and Purple Heart.
“This one.” She picked a deep purple that matched the medal in the picture. “Purple is the color for bravery, and I’m going to need all the courage I can muster these next couple of weeks.”
The color—called Plum Perfect—went on deep and rich, and Bryce grinned as she looked at her toes. They looked like amethysts and made her feel fancy. And sexy.
Something of this must’ve shown on her face, because Imani leaned over and gave a hum of approval.
“Nice. Seems a shame to have those toes hidden in your black sneakers all day while you cook. I heard a rumor there might be a special dinner happening this Friday?” Imani raised one dark eyebrow. “A dress-up dinner?”
“Gotta love small towns.” Kate laughed as Bryce’s cheeks grew hot. “Everybody knows your business. But also, everybody is there for you. It’s a double-edged sword, but having the small-town support system beats out the lack of privacy. Most days.”
Bryce cleared her throat. They were her friends. Girlfriends told each other things, right?
“I’m cooking for Ryker Friday night when my nieces are with the Paynes. He’s been so kind to me and the girls. After he made them a pirate ship out of cardboard and brought Drake’s printed manuscript over, I figured a dinner was the least I could do.” Bryce squirmed in her seat, then blurted the rest. “I really like him. Plus, he’s hot.”
