Page 102 of Seven of Hearts

I really needed to sit down now. Passing out and cracking my head open on the kitchen counter during the third trimester was probably unadvisable. I grabbed one of the kitchen chairs out from the table and slowly lowered down as my head spun.

“What brought that about?” I asked.

Her lips quirked. “Joanne may have heard that your father and I tried to pay off Logan. She came into my office and pointed out a few personal traits that I don’t particularly like admitting that I have.”

“You two always did speak the same language...”

“But Logan was the one who made me see it. The first text he sent me said that I wasn’t to have contact with you until I could prove that I wasn’t going to be a detriment to your life the way his mother was to his. And he sent me updates so that I knew exactly what I was missing.” She twisted her fingers together in a nervous tic I had never seen her show before. “I was always so judgmental of the Boyds.”

“Solomons,” I clipped, reminding her yet again. “Kylie and Logan changed their last name to the family they chose.”

“Right.” She sighed. “I never stopped to realize that I was being just as hurtful to you by trying to control you, as their parents were to their children by doing what they did. And I don’t want to lose you the way that Logan’s parents have rightfully lost their kids.”

I lifted my eyebrows. “Therapy told you that, huh? You’re a psychologist. Didn’t you know all of that from the get-go?”

She cracked a smile. “You know what they say. Doctors make the worst patients. We don’t like following our own advice. When Logan gave me his ultimatum, I decided to give therapy a try. I fired three therapists in the first four days. Then, the fourth therapist told me that they were all saying the same thing, and I simply wasn’t listening.”

I could see it then. The weariness in her eyes. They weren’t as sharp and exacting as they usually were. She was tired.

Frankly, I was too.

“I’m sorry, Leah.”

Those three words shook me to my core. I believed them, too. She looked wounded and contrite, a look I had never seen her wear.

“I tried so hard to make sure you had a good life that I didn’t stop and think that maybe your good life and mine look different.”

She glanced around the cottage. It was a far cry from the flawless, but sterile gray and beige home I grew up in.

“I went about it all wrong. And for the record, I’ve apologized to Joanne too.” Her smile was sad. “It was hard for me to come to terms when you two broke up. Being a parent of an adult is hard. I just wanted the best thing for you, and I suppose I was still holding on to you as a little girl, rather than a grown woman. I wanted you to be happy. But I was high and mighty and didn’t take into consideration that you knew your relationship best, and that ending it was in the best interest of both of you. And Logan...”

The baby kicked at the sound of his father’s name.

“I think we’re good for each other,” I said. “It takes two people invested in a relationship, right? Working as a team. That’s what you’ve always told me at least.” I smoothed my hand over my belly. “Joanne and I were in a relationship, but we were never a team. But Logan...He meets me where I am, and I think I do the same for him. We’re not perfect, but we’re growing in the same direction.”

“I’m starting to see that.” She glanced at the picture frames that littered the walls.

Some were of Logan and his siblings. Of Logan and Kylie. Some were of Kylie and me. And some were newer—selfies Logan and I had snapped together mixed with sonograms. Soon, we’d add newborn pictures to the mix. The start of a new narrative.

“How does Kylie feel about it?”

I snorted. “She came around faster than you did.”

The corners of my mother’s mouth twitched in a smile. “Does Kylie’s nephew have a name yet?”

I shook my head. “We haven’t been able to decide yet. And all of Logan’s siblings should be banned from naming children because all their suggestions are terrible.”

That drew a laugh from her. “I’m sure you’ll settle on something. You’ll know when it’s right.” She set the gift bag on the table in front of me. “I wasn’t sure what your plans were for Christmas or if you had a tree, but I thought you might like to have these. They were always your favorite.”

I yanked out the tissue paper and peered inside, then smiled. “My favorite ornaments.” Carefully, I pulled out the train, nutcracker, and mailbox ornaments.

“I would always find little pieces of paper stuffed in the mailbox because you wanted to make sure there was something inside when it was on the tree. And I had to keep the train and the nutcracker on the lower branches because you always wanted to play with them. The Christmas when you were three, you almost pulled the tree down trying to get to them. I thought it was only fitting that your son get to terrorize you in the same way.”

I laughed as I scooped up the ornaments and started to push out of the chair to put them on the tree.

“Don’t get up,” she said quickly, laying a hand on my shoulder. “Stay off your feet. I can put them over there for you.”

“Did Logan put you up to that too?” I called over my shoulder as she circumvented the empty moving boxes I needed to flatten. “Making sure I don’t move a muscle?”

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