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“Mhmm, whatever you say.” Georgia grabbed the same paint roller she had before and began to roll it in the tin full of paint.
Convinced that her daughter had dropped the conversation, she began to paint her wall again, too. But Georgia hadn’t started painting yet because her mind was still lingering on a question. Which April found out when she looked over and saw her staring at the blank wall. “What’s wrong?”
Georgia snapped to and began to roll on the color. “Nothing. Just thinking.”
“About what?”
She shrugged. “Why can’t Dad know about our project? And why isn’t he here?”
April felt like all the air was squeezed out of her chest. She couldn’t breathe. It felt like time had stopped completely. It was the one question she didn’t want to answer. Because she was either forced to lie to her daughter or tell her the truth and she wasn’t sure which was more daunting.
“Well, your father is on a trip right now. He’s having fun with some friends in Europe.” It hurt her throat to swallow as she lied straight through her teeth. “And I don’t want him to worry about this. It’s a lot. I’m taking up time and money to chase this dream of mine. I’m not really ready for him to know about what’s going on here. And that’s okay. We’re each doing our own thing for now. It’s healthy to have some space.”
Parts of it were true, but it still tasted sour coming out of her mouth. It was technically a lie. “That makes sense. I think he’d lose his mind if he knew about all this. We’re starting a new business. Speaking of which, what happened to your job? They’re cool with you being here full-time?”
“I’m taking a leave of absence. I’m not sure I want to go back. Would you be disappointed if I didn’t?”
More lies. Her chest hurt, acid creeping up her throat threatening to cause a problem. It was as if her body was physically punishing her.
“Of course not!” Georgia replied. “That place doesn’t deserve you. You work way too hard.”
A deep breath centered April as she heard exactly what she needed to hear. It wasn’t enough for her to tell Georgia the truth, but it was enough to make her feel better about her decisions.
Still, her daughter was getting close enough to figure everything out. It would take one phone call from her father at the circus to tell her about the divorce. Or one flirty conversation with Nigel.
She would have to tell her daughter, and soon.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
After weeks of working with the contractors, the stove had finally been approved for them to use. “Thank God,” Georgia said as April cooked their first meal on it. It happened to be one of their favorite dishes, chicken stir fry. “We really needed an actual meal.”
“I cooked plenty of good meals on the camp stove!”
She scoffed. “Okay, sure. But it was too small to make something like this. Now we’re really cookin’.”
“You’re just happy because we finished painting the living room today.”
Georgia nodded with a smile. “That’s right. And that means that the living room is one step closer to your dream lobby. We have almost all the furniture pieces picked out too.”
“That’s right! It’s really starting to come together. This is going to look fantastic when it’s all put together.” April stirred the dish with a wooden spoon. “You’ve done a great job at designing it.”
Her daughter was never great at taking compliments. It was always turned into a joke or got pushed aside. But this time, she looked like she genuinely was proud of her accomplishments. Georgia didn’t say thank you, but April knew that she was grateful for every time she was told how good of a job she was doing.
April imagined that after quitting school, Georgia was struggling with her direction in life just like her mom. So she would give her all the validation she wanted. It was all support from here on out.
She opened her mouth to praise her daughter even more, but the phone in her pocket vibrated. Expecting Maxwell, she reached down to push the button to ignore. But then she saw the dreaded name flash across her screen.
‘Mom.’
Did she really have to answer it? But what if it was an emergency? She sighed, rolling her eyes, knowing that she needed to answer or it would only create more problems for her in the future. “Can you?” April motioned to the stove with the wooden spoon in her hand. “It’s Grandma.”
Georgia nodded. “Of course.”
She knew how much April didn’t enjoy talking to her mother, which April was extremely thankful for in times like these. It felt good to have someone that had her back.
“Hey, Mom, what’s up?”
The high-pitched, posh voice came through crystal clear. “I’m at your house. No one’s home. What the hell is going on here?”
