Page 84 of Merry Little Midlife Matchmaker

“I don’t know.”

We sat there for a long while until Aaron finally said, “I think I owe her an apology.”

I grunted in response.

Aaron stood and stretched, then angled his chin at me. “We good?”

A weight lifted off my shoulders as I got to my feet and nodded. “Yeah.”

Aaron nodded. “Good.”

When he turned to leave the room, I made a noise to stop him. Glancing over his shoulder with raised eyebrows, my best friend waited for me to speak. When I did, the words came out in a rush. “I’m still going to try to get her back.”

He stared at me.

I squared my shoulders. “Is that a problem?”

“You going to hurt her?”

“No. Not if I can help it.”

“Fine.”

And that was it. Friendship mended and saved. Aaron walked me to the front door and gave me a back-slapping hug, and I wondered why I’d been so afraid to face him.

The whole point of having a support system was that they’d catch you when you fell. I’d learned at a young age to walk on eggshells around the people in my circle, knowing they’d leave or die or betray or abandon me when things got tough.

As I got in my truck, I glanced at the twinkling Christmas tree in the window again and let out a long breath.

Not Aaron. Our friendship had survived the turbulence of our teenage years. It had survived the ups and downs of life, of distance, of divorce, kids, changed circumstances…

It would survive this.

A piece of my heart knitted itself back together. For the first time in my life, I was sure of something—of someone. I knew that no matter what, my friendship with Aaron would endure. That support system I wanted to give to Mikey was something I should have craved for myself, but up until this moment, I hadn’t thought I deserved it.

Security felt like a shelter in the storm, a harbor that I could return to when the seas got rough.

And as soon as I felt the wind die down around me, I knew that I couldn’t give up on Lizzie. Not when she was still out at sea, alone in a leaky boat, being tossed around by waves that were taller than she was.

If she let me, I’d be her harbor, and never again would I let her down.

THIRTY-EIGHT

LIZZIE

The kids were coming backfrom their father’s place tomorrow, and as much as I’d enjoyed my days of solitude, I was ready to have them home again. I couldn’t wait to see Hazel’s beaming smile and Zach’s little side grin. I wanted to hear all about their weeks and give them tight hugs. I wanted the noise and chaos of having them in the house. I wouldn’t even mind Zach’s grumpy morning face if it meant I could hold him close.

My bath was halfway filled as I thought of my last phone call with them, when Hazel went into great detail to explain why her grandmother’s apple pie was nowhere near as good as mine. It was petty for me to be delighted, but I never claimed to be perfect. Isaac’s mother had never been a huge fan of me.

I trailed my fingers through the water to test the temperature, then went to the cabinet to check what bath oils I had. I’d opened so many old packages of “fancy” products lately that it felt like living in a Bath & Body Works every time I walked into my bathroom. I chose a lavender-scented oil and dropped a good glug of it into the bath.

And then the doorbell rang.

I closed my eyes, sighed, and turned off the tap. When I padded downstairs and peeked through the frosted side window,all I could see was a large shadow. My heart rattled, thinking I knew who was on the other side of the door.

But it wasn’t Sean; it was my brother Aaron. I couldn’t tell if I was disappointed or relieved, so I just stood in the doorway and blinked at him.

“Hey,” Aaron said, rocking back onto his heels.

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