Page 127 of That Time I Kissed My Beachfront Boss

Mac tilts his head. “Are you all right?”

“I just … I need to talk to Mom.”

My mother sits up a little taller in her chair. “I’m right here, Liv. Did your brain go foggy again? You know Doctor Markowitz says that’s totally normal.”

“Swipe left on Doctor Markowitz, Darby!” Big Mama cheers.

“I think you mean swipe right,” Tess says.

“I think you all need to go!” I blurt. “Please?”

“Come on, ladies.” Mac puts his arms around Tess and Darby. “Let’s give Liv a break for now. We can come back later.”

“Or not,” I say, with a crooked smile. Then I add, “Just kidding,” in case they didn’t know. Because the truth is, as loud and chaotic as my family is, I’ve never loved them more or been this deeply grateful for them than I am in this moment. Thanks to these total kooks, I have a foundation nothing can shake. I’ll never be alone. I have the McCoys.

And maybe I’ll have Hudson.

If it’s not too late.

Mac helps Big Mama up and starts to herd everyone out of the room. “Can we get some lime Jell-O for the road?” Big Mama asks, as the group traipses out the door.

My mom watches them go, and when the door shuts, she turns to me. The tiniest of smirks teases her lips. “I needed a little break from all of them too, so thanks for that.”

“Least I could do,” I say, with an exaggerated scoff. “You did give me life and everything. So I’ve probably still got a lot of work to do before we can call it even.”

“Oh, Olivia. There’s no scoreboard in motherhood.” She clucks, reaching for my hand. “If you tried to count what I’ve gotten from you kids, the number would stretch to infinity.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” I nod. “Sleepless nights, scraped knees, a lifetime of worry, and burned pancakes on Mother’s Day?”

She lets out a little chortle. “That’s a good start.”

“And let’s not forget all the homemade cards Darby, Tess, and I gave you.”

“I’m still cleaning up the glitter.” A grin splits her face. “But I’d do it all again.”

“You would? Really?”

“Really.” She gives my fingers a squeeze. “You kids multiplied my heart four times over. Again and again, exponentially.” She sighs, but it’s a happy one. “You know I wouldn’t trade this life for anything.”

“Hmm.” I wrinkle my nose. “I must’ve sounded pretty silly and selfish all these years then, telling everyone I never wanted to be a mom.”

She tips her head, considering the statement. I like that about her. “Not at all,” she says after a long moment. “Plenty of women are content without kids. Men too. And parenthood doesn’t come with a guarantee of happiness. Or a roadmap with any kind of finish line.” She withdraws her hand, but meets my gaze. “If I never had children, I think my life would’ve still been wonderful.”

“Well.” I snicker. “I’ll try not to be too offended.”

“Don’t be.” She arches a brow. “The same could be true for you, Liv. We’re allowed to make our paths wonderful no matter what. If I’d been childfree, I would’ve traveled more, had fewer stretch marks, and a whole lot more free time.” She chuckles to herself. “All I’m saying is you’re going to have to compromise, one way or another. There’s always give and take in either direction. And you get to choose.” Her eyes go soft. “That’s the beautiful part.”

“But.” I blow out a long breath. “What if I choose wrong?”

“Oh, honey. You put way too much pressure on yourself. Look at it this way: Every time you make a decision, you’re closing a door, but you’re also opening another one.”

“That’s all well and good when you’re choosing between a cobb salad or the club sandwich for lunch. What about big decisions? Like love and marriage?”

Her mouth crooks. “As I recall, you’ve already said no to a couple of proposals. Any regrets there?”

I frown. “Neither of them really meant it. They just wanted to win, you know? But I’m not a prize.”

“I disagree. I think you’re the most precious prize there is.”

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