Page 164 of A Temporary Forever

One month later

Thunderous applause erupts as the last beats of music fade away.

Caleb jumps up, clapping with the vigor of a proud man. A man who loves. A man who shows up for his loved ones.

“She was amazing, wasn’t she?” He beams at me.

His joy is contagious, and spreads through me with warmth and familiarity. I laugh, because there is no other response for him right now.

I glance back at the stage in the school auditorium where Mia and her friends keep bowing, eachof them grinning and searching for their families in the audience.

She spots us in the third row. Probably because her father is towering over those around us, but also because he claps the loudest.

She sends us an air kiss and rushes off the stage with her crew, all of them giggling.

“They’re all talented,” Reese says.

“Mia was the best.” Caleb’s voice is full of pride and confidence, like he’s stating a fact nobody should dare refute.

I lean into him, taking his hand. “They all seemed to have fun. Their joy comes across in their performance and touches the audience.”

“Thank you for supporting her hobby.” Reese looks away.

Over the last few weeks we’ve spent some time together, and while she’s been attending therapy and a recovery program, her feeling of failure runs deep.

It’s always the self-criticism that hits us hardest.

“Don’t mention it.” Caleb wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me tight. “I can’t even take credit. It was Celeste who discovered Mia quit the crew. The rest was easy.”

Reese’s eyes glimmer with unshed tears. “Sometimes I wonder how things would have turned out if I’d tried to contact you sooner. I hope youunderstand what stopped me was mostly fear of your father.”

“We can’t change the past. Mia is in my life now, and I’m grateful for it.”

Reese opens her mouth to say something, but Mia runs up to us, still buzzing with energy from the performance. “Did you like it?”

“Like?” Caleb hugs her. “I loved it, sweetheart. You were the best.”

“You think?” She seeks reassurance, her face glimmering with sweat from the performance, but brimming with pride.

“You were amazing,” Reese says, and the two of them hug.

“Congratulations,” I say when it’s my turn. “You guys rocked it.”

We follow the crowd out as everyone disperses. “Did you like the routine? We incorporated all your suggestions.” She bounces beside us.

“You made those moves even better.” I pat her back.

“A celebration is in order, I think,” Caleb suggests, as we spill out onto the hot street.

“Can we go for ice cream? Or burgers? I’m starving!”

Reese hesitates. “I have to head to my meeting.” Her cheeks pinken as she refers to her group therapy.

“Oh.” Mia covers her disappointment quickly. “That’s okay. I’ll eat at home.”

Reese’s face falls, and her eyes dart to Caleb. The moment would be ordinary, a mother seeking help from a father. But in their case, it’s so much more.

They don’t have a mutual parenting experience. They’re still learning how to trust each other. Her unspoken request or question or whatever it is has its own significant meaning, and my heart hurts and swells at the same time.

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