Page 4 of Balancing Act


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Drew had been sitting at the poolside when another boy thought it would be funny to pretend to drown. Frightened children screamed as the lifeguard dove into the water. The child standing behind Drew was jostled by the crowd and spilled a cherry snow cone all over Drew.

That had triggered a flashback to the car accident that had injured Drew and killed his dad. Reliving his terrors, Genevieve’s grandson had lost his cool.

“That poor child,” she said now. “He’s had too much trauma to bear for someone his age. My heart aches for him.”

As Helen nodded her agreement, Willow said, “When we get home, I’m going to see if I can’t find a new counselor for him. Dr. Harris is nice, but I don’t think she’s helping.”

“He has seemed a bit withdrawn during this visit,” Genevieve observed.

“Withdrawn?” Helen repeated with a scoff. “Are we talking about the same boy I watched ride a snowboard yesterday? He attacked the bunny slope. Defeated it, too.”

“Colorado has been good for him. He loves it here,” Willow said. “But Mom is right. At home, he’s been acting clingy and timid like he did in the months right after his father died. He keeps his feelings bottled up inside.”

“I honestly didn’t see that from him this trip.” Helen swirled the cognac in her snifter. “Not like I did during our visit to Nashville in October. In fact, yesterday on the slopes, Drew reminded me a lot of his father.”

Genevieve nodded in agreement. “Yesterday, Drew did seem to act more like his old self, and yes, he did remind me of Andy. That man lived life big.”

“Drew will rise above these challenges, Willow,” Helen said. “I’m sure he’ll follow in his father’s footsteps.”

Willow turned toward the fire. Genevieve thought her daughter sounded a touch forlorn as she said, “We will see. In the meantime, I’m hoping tonight’s bad dream is just a blip and that Drew continues to build upon the progress he’s made while we’ve been here.”

“Well, listen to your instincts, Willow,” Genevieve suggested. “They’re good ones.”

“I don’t know about that. However, I am going to listen to them. My deaf ear is flipped to the on position.”

“Good girl.” Helen patted the seat beside her. “Now, grab a glass and come sit with us. Let’s cheer in the New Year together.”

Genevieve added, “I suggest you give yourself a generous pour. Helen convinced me to allow her to set up all of the gifts she gave the family this Christmas to ring in the New Year. They’re in the dining room.”

On her way to her mother’s liquor cabinet, Willow froze. She glanced at her mom with eyes rounded slightly in alarm. “The cuckoo clocks? All eight of them?”

“Yes, all eight of them.”

“Won’t it be glorious?” Helen beamed. “Forget ‘Auld Lang Syne.’ I can’t think of a more appropriate way to put a period on this year and say hello to the next, can you?”

Willow met her mother’s gaze, and the two women exchanged silent identical looks—semi-amused horror. Then, Willow’s expression relaxed, and she turned to Helen and smiled. “No, Auntie, I can’t think of anything more appropriate.”

Genevieve silently toasted her daughter. Then, taking a sip of the cognac, she savored the French liquor. She’d brought out the good stuff for tonight. Why not? Why save anything at this point in her life?

Ticktock to Helen and all her clocks.

Ticktock to my big six-zero.

Ticktock to being six feet under.

Genevieve tossed back the remainder of her drink, then rose to get a refill. “Less than ten minutes to go now. Anyone want to commit to a New Year’s resolution?”

“Not in this life or the next,” Helen shot back. “I gave up New Year’s resolutions at the turn of the century.”

“The turn of the century,” Genevieve repeated glumly. “That makes us sound so old.”

“Not old. Vintage? Or MCM, remember?”

Midcentury modern. Genevieve snorted and kissed her daughter on the cheek as they passed, going to and from the liquor cabinet. Then, carrying a glass of scotch neat, Willow took a seat beside her aunt and said, “I have a New Year’s resolution.”

“Oh?” Helen asked. “Do share.”

“I alluded to it a moment ago. I’m going to start listening. To my instincts. To my mother.”

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