Page 63 of Crossroads of Love

“I know, baby. I’m scared of that, too. Is that why you left last night?”

She hesitates and pulls away before looking away from me. She lets out a long sigh and nods.

“I was angry. And sad. And scared. I know your relationship with Dad wasn’t great, and you deserve to be treated like a queen, Mom. I don’t know that Uncle G is capable of that, though.”

“He is, baby girl. I don’t know whether I’m capable of accepting it, though.”

I blow out a long breath as I let the weight of those words settle between us.

It’s stupid, really, how quickly he’s slipped back into my life. How quickly the walls I’ve spent years building crumbled the moment he offered to help.

I’m setting myself up for failure because I don’t know that I’m capable of what he could offer me. Can I really ever believe that the other shoe won’t drop on me and make me look like a fool again?

“That’s a big statement,” she says softly. “Maybe we should both talk to Pastor Will.”

I chuckle and nod. “I think you might be right, smart girl. Are you willing to talk to Pastor Will?”

“Maybe I can talk to one of the counselors at the youth center. I know a friend mentioned seeing a counselor namedTaylor there. I don’t know that I want to admit to Pastor Will that I drank.”

“He won’t condemn you for a mistake if that’s what you’re scared of.” I smile. “And neither will I. I’ll put in a call to the youth center and get you an appointment. You know that your behavior wasn’t okay, right? You could’ve killed yourself or someone else. One moment of anger could have drastically changed your life and a lot of others.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. I didn’t…it’s like I miss Dad, but I’m mad at myself because it doesn’t feel any different from when he was alive. I feel guilty.”

“That’s a normal part of grief. I struggle with the same. You can always talk to me. Uncle Gavin dealt with the same things when your grandma died. I think he could be a good safe place for you, too.”

“I didn’t think of that,” she murmurs. “I really am sorry, Mom. It was like I was watching someone else react to what I was seeing.”

“I’ve been there. Your truck and phone are gone for a month, as of now. You can do chores around the house, attend counseling, and keep your grades up, and we’ll talk again in two weeks to discuss if that will change.”

“Really?” she gasps.

“Really.”

“Give me a list of chores, and I’ll do them. Can I go to the team sleepover tonight?”

I hesitate for a minute as I watch her carefully. I don’t want to tell her no, but I also know I should. How will she learn if she doesn’t see a punishment for her crimes?

I blow out a breath and pull out of the fear that’s enveloping me, and the thoughts of what Aaron would have done had he caught her drinking and driving. I can only imagine how muchof a screaming match that would have been. He would have sold the truck and her phone, I’m certain.

“If you get all of your chores done today, with no whining, then yes, you can go.”

“Really?”

“Yes, but it doesn’t mean you’re not grounded.”

“I get it, Mom. Thank you. I’m going to shower, and then I’ll get started.”

She runs upstairs to shower, and I walk out to the back porch to finish my coffee. I let out a long sigh as I sink into the cushioned chaise lounge and feel the warmth of the sun on my face.

That went better than I expected and way better than it would have had Gavin and I not talked last night. I feel good about the expectations and our conversation. I’m more than grateful that she made it home safe and sound and that she feels comfortable enough to talk to me.

The good thing about living in a small town is that if Jayla and her friends act up while she’s at the sleepover, I’ll know almost immediately.

People love to gossip and rat out kids when they’re not acting right.

Later that evening, after dropping Jayla off at her sleepover, I light a candle on the counter, letting the soft vanilla scent waft through the kitchen. There’s a knock on the door, and I already know who it is before I open it. Tatum stands there, grinning wide, a bottle of tequila in one hand and a bag of chips in the other.

“Guess who brought the party?” She giggles, walking past me like she owns the place.

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