Page 9 of Someone to Hold
“It won’t be me,” Piper announces. “I’m going to play the new cool girls book club member card.”
“I’m going to play the ‘I like my life just the way it is’ card,” Avah declares.
Must be nice, I think, not without a hint of longing. I can’t remember the last time I felt content with my life. I don’t know what it’s like to be satisfied and at peace with the present moment instead of always looking ahead to when things might get better.
My friends wait for my answer, the expectation in their gazes making my cheeks heat and my skin prickle like there are ants crawling across it.
“The plan had been to take the kids on an adventure before we moved, but…” I pat my right thigh. My foot is elevated on another chair because the injured ankle swells if I’m on my feet—or foot, as the case may be—for too long. “I was thinking of a theme park, but we might have to take a rain check on that.”
“Riding ‘It’s A Small World’ isn’t a bucket list item,” Avah says matter-of-factly.
“That’s rude,” I mutter. Avah is my best friend in this group, and we’re definitely an opposites-attract kind of vibe.
Taylor’s smile is softer. “The bucket list challenge is about you, not the twins.”
I breathe out a laugh. “I’m a single mother of two high-energy first graders. There is no me.”
My best friend squeezes my fingers. “Not until you find her,” Avah tells me.
Tears sting the back of my eyes. I love these women. I don’t know how I would have made it through the past couple of years without their support and friendship. But they don’t understand.
“I think she’s been gone for too long,” I whisper then clear my throat to dislodge the rest of it—my origin story. “I was only five when I went to live with my grandparents after Mom died. From the day I carried a trash bag filled with all my worldly possessions over their doorstep, Nana and Pops made it clear they weren’t taking me in because of love. As much of a train wreck as my mom made of her life, they wouldn’t let strangers raise her kid.”
“Her actions and the consequences from them weren’t your fault or responsibility,” Iris says. She’s speaking from personalexperience. Her mom was a magnet for scandal, and my friend paid a price for that.
“My grandparents loved me,” I say like it needs explaining, “but they always worried I was going to turn out like my mom. I worried that they’d give up on me if I did anything out of line, so I became who they wanted me to be. Then they died in that car wreck, and I went on my first adventure to Colorado.” I throw up my hands. “We all know how that turned out.”
“It led to you being part of our lives,” Sloane reminds me.
I nod. “Don’t get me wrong. I wouldn’t trade my vacation fling with Teddy or everything that came after, because I love my kids and you guys and living in Skylark. But I can’t let Luke and Laurel feel like a burden the way…” I trail off and use the corner of my napkin to wipe an invisible spot on the smooth tabletop. “I just don’t know how to have an identity outside of being their mom. It’s the only thing I’ve been good at in my life. How uber pathetic is that?”
Sloane wraps an arm around my shoulder and squeezes me into a tight hug. “It’s not. But you’re more than your ability to take care of those sweet kids.”
I choke out a laugh. “Not sure my ability is something to brag about when we’ve been living with my mother-in-law since Teddy’s death. I’m hardly the poster child for independent single moms.”
“Because you’ve been busy paying off his debt.” Avah’s tone is angry on my behalf. “We all know you took a loss when you sold his vans and rafts. All that fancy equipment for a business that never turned a profit.”
“Yes, but?—”
“Credit cards maxed out,” she continues. “Loans in your name…all of it dumped on you after he passed. And with no life insurance. He put you in a bad spot, Mols.”
I draw in a deep breath. “I made my last payment to the creditcard company this month. I’m free and clear, at least from that.” It’s a small win, but it’s mine.
“Why are you moving to Albuquerque with your mother-in-law when you love it here?” Piper asks.
Sadie elbows her, and a silence falls over our group.
“Is that a bad question?” Piper whispers.
“It’s not,” I answer before anyone else can. “I’m moving because that’s where Linda is retiring to, and she wants her grandkids close. It’s nice that she wants us with her.” Did that sound convincing? Doubtful.
Avah’s eyes narrow. “No one in the history of the world has ever described Linda McAllister as nice. She’s for sure not nice to you. She treats you like a servant, Molly.”
“She took me in after Teddy died,” I argue weakly. “I had nothing. No money, no life insurance, no way to pay the bills. Nothing but debt and two kids who had just lost their father. I owe her. If it wasn’t for me?—”
“No.” Iris holds up a hand. “We’re not doing that again. The part where you blame yourself because Teddy put a raft in that river when the water was running way too high and fast to be safe, even for somebody with his experience.”
“But he?—”
