Page 125 of Roommate's Guide to Love

“So once we were in the email, we were able to trace the last time she used her computer to an IP address in Wyoming. From there Stella started doing Stella things that I’m not sure I want to know about.”

“You don’t,” she says. “But I figured out the campsite that was near the IP address, and well, we took a guess that’s where she was.”

“A guess!” Quinn yells. “You guessed?”

“We had to,” Logan says. “Who knew if Bonnie was going to fall for the lies? We needed to try to get Missy back because she was the nail in the coffin.”

Quinn and I both wide eyed as we listen to this story unfold. About how when they narrowed down the campsite, that Maeve jumped on a plane and headed to Wyoming. That once she found Missy and explained enough to get her on the plane, that they hightailed it back so Missy could sign any documents to make sure Bonnie never had claim to Grace.

“I should probably feel violated, but I’m glad you did what you had to do,” Missy says. “Clearly I didn’t think things through when I left Grace here. I thought my letter was going to be enough.”

“Don’t you dare blame yourself,” I tell her. “It’s not your fault our mother is batshit.”

“Once we were on the plane, Maeve told me more about what was happening and my heart dropped. I specifically left Indiana to get away from her. Because she was trying to do what she did to you, trying to claim Grace as her dependent. I was already over my head and confused and questioning if I could raise a child. She didn’t help. I just…I broke. Then I came here.”

“There’s still one thing that never made sense,” I say. “How did she know you brought Grace to me? I can’t imagine I was a frequent part of conversation.”

“I was wondering that too,” Missy says. “But then I remembered, and it was my fault.”

“Nothing is your fault,” Quinn says.

“I don’t know about that. When I first got the idea, I needed to make sure you were still here, so I was searching on my phone about Rolling Hills and The Joint. Looking up your Facebook account. That kind of thing. Out of nowhere she walked up behind me, saw the pictures, recognized it immediately, and then threw my phone across the room. She screamed at me for an hour about how you were ungrateful—for what, I don’t know, because you seemed to be doing fine—and that I shouldn’t concern myself with you. My only guess is that when she didn’t get the life insurance payout from Dad’s death like she thought, that’s when she schemed to get Grace back.”

“Wow,” I say, rubbing my face. “If I didn’t hate her so much, I’d be a little impressed with her deductive reasoning.”

“Well, that reasoning went out the door the second she saw dollar signs,” Quinn says. “I swear, once she realized she was going to get money and make you sell the bar in the process, we could’ve told her the check was coming from the King of England and she would’ve believed it.”

“I was holding my breath when we brought her out the contract to sign,” I admit. “But I don’t think she could’ve signed it any faster.”

“Also, kudos to you, Logan, for not actually giving her the check,” Quinn says. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a hand move so slow.”

Logan takes a sip of his whiskey. “When we were in the back, Maeve texted me that she was on her way. I was stalling as much as I could. But I must say, my wife has impeccable timing.”

He leans over to kiss her cheek. “I’m just glad we were able to make it. And now this saga is behind us.”

“I agree.” I look around the table to make sure everyone has a drink of some sort. “And I’d like to propose a toast.”

Everyone holds up their glasses. “I’d like to say thanks to each and every one of you. This…I never had a big family. Sure, I had extended and the people here, but not anything like you guys. And…well…I just hope you know I’ll never be able to properly pay you back for what every one of you did today.”

“No thanks needed,” Simon says. “You’re family now. And this is what you do for family.”

Glasses clink together as the chatter starts back up, which is when I see Missy stand from her chair and walk over to the picture wall. I get up and follow her, wanting a minute alone.

“I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to thank you,” I say. “I know this isn’t what you wanted to do.”

She just nods but doesn’t say anything as she stares at the wall that’s covered in photos. Up until a few months ago, it was pictures of me and Pops. The regulars. Harry and George holding up their beer cans from their place at the end of the bar. Those photos are still up, but I’ve recently added some new ones.

Photos of me, Quinn, and Grace during her one-year-birthday celebration. One of Grace playing in her special corner. George holding her while she looks at him like he’s nuts.

In her defense, he usually is.

“She’s gotten so big. I feel like it’s been a year and it’s only been a few months.”

“She has,” I say. “We’re still working on the talking. The walking thing she’s getting down pretty good.”

She nods, but I see a tear escape.

“You were brave,” I assure her. “What you did for Grace? What you did today? You didn’t have to do any of that. I just want you to know I think what you’ve done is courageous and a sacrifice not many would make.”

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