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“Just one.” I suck on my straw.
I wasn’t worried about how the kids would feel about Will living with us. In fact, the conversation started when Hunter suggested it. Will spends an exorbitant amount of time at our house, but never sleeps over. I stay at his place on the weekends, and we’re both there when the kids get dropped off by Tyler on Sundays. Izzy even chimed in that it would be nice to have Will cook dinners for us regularly since he was far better in the kitchen than I was. I tried not to take offense to that. And since Maisie has officially moved in with Tyler while they plan their winter wedding—no, I am not designing it. Thank goodness!—it doesn’t seem odd to the kids that we’re increasing our family to this big, wonderful, complicated mess of love.
Tara nods in understanding. “I bet it was your dad.”
I laugh with a sigh. “Dad would have an issue if it were anyone else. The men who spend time around his grandchildren is a serious matter for Gavin Jones. But he and Will … they’ve developed quite a relationship over the past few months. Will is a man my father respects greatly, which doesn’t come easily, and Will finds my father quite comical even though the man’s not trying to be funny.” I look over at my dad at the bar, standing at the bar and talking to Will over a glass of whiskey. “My dad’s actually the one who came up with the living arrangement. Will is moving into my parents’ house with me and the kids while Dad is going to Will’s house.”
“Then, what was the holdup?”
“Me.” I shrug. “I moved back to a home that reminded me of my youth, reminded my children of my mother, and was a giant hug. I know it sounds crazy, but I’m very attached to that house. It’s my home and a place that built me not just once, but twice.”
Jillian takes a long swig of her drink. “So different from how I grew up. I couldn’t wait to run away from my parents’ place. In fact, when they head to Maine for the summer, I feel like I can finally breathe.”
“Funny. You need yours to leave, and I want mine to stay. Those two are on yet another cruise. I swear they should just sell their house and be one of those couples who lives aboard cruise ships,” Tara quips.
“They have singles cruises. You should go on one,” Jillian suggests, to which Tara bounces on her butt and nearly knocks over her glass.
“Let’s go together. Two girls on a trip of a lifetime!”
“No, thank you. I’m good, being home. Plus, I have no one to watch Ainsley for that long. My parents are good for a few hours here and there and the occasional sleepover. Long trips are out of the question.”
“I’ll watch her,” I offer, trying to push my single friend to get out into the word and find love. I wish she’d take a chance on someone. Just once.
She tugs at her collar and bites her lip. “Maybe. I’ll think about it.” She gives Tara a stern look. “No promises. Don’t go booking anything.”
Tara already has her phone out and appears to be scrolling the internet, I’m sure looking at singles cruises. When Jillian raises her brows, Tara looks like she’s been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
Jillian leans forward. “So, how is this situation working? Is your dad buying Will’s house?”
I shake my head. “My dad has an odd sense of duty, if you will. In his words, the house is going to belong to me anyway, so I might as well have it now. He offered to live in Will’s house—for free, of course, since Dad has paid off his mortgage and refuses to acquire a bill. Will was happy to shake hands on that deal. He’d never accept a penny from my father anyway.”
“When is all this happening?” Tara asks.
I look over at the bar, where Will is laughing with my dad. He must sense I’m staring because he looks over with that effervescent smolder. He takes my breath away from across the room.
“It pretty much already has. Will helped my father move his personal belongings over to Will’s house, and vice versa. Over the next few weeks, we have to get the woodworking station into the new garage. We already have the gym in one of the extra bedrooms.”
“Looks like your dad can have his bachelor pad over there.” Tara winks, and I groan.
Dad and Anna have been spending more time together around me. While there will forever be an uncomfortable pit way down deep in my belly at the fact that my dad is with someone who’s not my mom, I know he has no choice since Mom’s not here. Just because your great love passes away doesn’t mean you spend the rest of your life without companionship. And for my dad, I hope the love he has with Anna is enough to keep him to his final days. It makes me happy that he’s content and well cared for.
Same for me. I understand Will and I haven’t been together long, but … when you know, you know.
While I might not have been single long, I have been by myself for years. Tyler and I gave up long ago. I might have lived in that home, but pretending isn’t real. Being with Will, the good, the bad, the easy, and the hard … it’s my real.
My therapist would be proud if she heard my inner monologue. We chat over zoom once a week and it’s really helping. I used to be one of those women who never thought she needed therapy because I had friends to talk to. Amazing friends who listened, gave advice when needed, and are a fantastic support system. Turns out, burning robes and bitching about my ex-husband over a bottle of wine wasn’t the only therapy I needed. A professional helped me dig deeper to really tackle my abandonment issues stemming from the worst two years of my life.
I have to thank Izzy for recommending I go.
One night, I sat in bed crying when I thought the kids were asleep. At that point, I had known Allison wasn’t going to blast our business because she had called Jillian and told her. I believe the exact quote was,“While I wish gonorrhea on Melissa, I want you to know I respect you as a woman and business owner and that is the only reason why I am not putting your company through social media hell.”Jillian was relieved and I was a bit surprised by the fact Allison and I are more alike than I thought as I once wished a severe case of herpes on Maisie.
No, this particular night, I’d been wallowing over missing Will. Izzy came into my room and hugged me. She didn’t ask any questions. She combed my hair with her fingers the way I do for her. I quickly morphed into my everything-is-fine mantra, asked what was bothering her that she had still been up, and then snuggled her until she went to sleep. The next day, Izzy suggested I talk to someone the way she does. I’d knew I’d be a hypocrite to say no so I agreed out of principle.
After one session I loved it.
I mean, I do love to talk and having an open forum where I can dish about everything and anything is a total win. Plus, it’s more confidential than a barber shop or salon chair. The therapist can’t unload my secrets and I can confess to anything without judgement.
I also cried. A lot.
