Fifteen
fifteen
CHASING CARS - SNOW PATROL
CALLIE - DECEMBER 13, 2013
R uby’s soft, rhythmic breathing anchors me in this moment. Her tiny body cradled in her baby wrap, as I mix the dough for the sugar cookies. The smell of vanilla and butter drifts through the kitchen, soothing the storm of emotions swirling inside me. Ruby is going to Adam’s tomorrow and the thought of it has my stomach in knots. Even though I’ve had six weeks to prepare for her first visit away from me, I am still not ready. No amount of time could make this feel natural.
Sara sits on the floor beside me, gleefully banging a wooden spoon against an empty mixing bowl. Her laughter bubbles up, pure and carefree, as she looks up at me with wide, innocent eyes and a toothy grin. I force a smile, trying to mirror her joy, but the weight in my chest is heavy. My heart aches, caught between the love I feel for my girls and the fear of what tomorrow will bring.
What if Adam doesn’t know how to calm Ruby when she cries? What if she needs me and I’m not there? The questions swirl in my mind, unrelenting. I swallow hard, trying to push the thoughts away, but they cling to me like a second skin.
The doorbell rings, snapping me out of my spiral.
Taylor arrives with Ava, who barrels through the door in a whirlwind of energy, her ponytails bouncing as she shouts at the top of her lungs, “Cookies!”
Sara lets out an excited squeal, her little hands clapping together as she watches Ava with wide-eyed fascination. Ava crouches down beside her, spreading out the colorful assortment of cookie cutters on the floor like they’re the most exciting treasure she’s ever seen.
“Look, Sara! This one’s a snowman, and this one’s a star!” Ava says, her voice brimming with enthusiasm. Sara reaches for one shaped like a reindeer, babbling happily as Ava explains its purpose like a seasoned baking pro.
“Sorry we’re late,” Taylor says, stepping into the kitchen and setting a tray of meticulously arranged cookie cutters on the counter. “Ava insisted on bringing every single cutter we own, and then we had to count them twice to make sure none were left behind.”
I chuckle, adjusting Ruby in her wrap as she stirs against me. “Well, at least she’s thorough.”
Taylor raises an eyebrow. “Thorough, or determined to derail us before we even got here?” She smiles, but her gaze shifts to me, her expression softening. “How’s it going?”
I force a smile, turning back to the dough. “Great. The dough’s ready, so we can get started as soon as Brooke gets here.”
Taylor doesn’t move, her eyes fixed on me as she studies my face. I can feel her concern before she even speaks. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” I say quickly, keeping my hands busy as I roll out the dough. The words feel flimsy, like they might crumble beneath her knowing gaze. I don’t dare meet her eyes; she’ll see right through me.
Taylor hesitates for a moment, then lets it go with a small nod, but I can tell she’s not convinced. I wish I could tell her about the knot in my chest, or how I can’t seem to shake the dread building inside me. For now, I focus on the dough, pressing it flat like I can smooth out my emotions along with it.
The doorbell rings again and my best friend Brooke enters, juggling her daughter Lexi in one arm and a bottle of wine in the other. “Let’s get this party started!” she declares, setting the wine down and sweeping me into a quick hug.
Ruby stirs in the wrap, and I instinctively pat her back. Brooke leans in to take a peek at her. “Look at her, all cozy. You’re going to spoil this one rotten, Callie.”
I laugh softly. “Maybe, but she’s worth it.”
The kitchen quickly descends into cheerful chaos. Ava and Lexi team up to douse cookies with sprinkles, Sara bangs her spoon with renewed enthusiasm, and Brooke keeps the energy high with her over-the-top commentary.
“This cookie is art,” Brooke declares, holding up a blob of frosting and glitter that vaguely resembles a tree.
“It’s a mess,” Taylor says dryly. “But it’s festive.”
I smile but stay quiet, my thoughts drifting back to Ruby’s visit tomorrow. My stomach churns at the thought of handing her over to Adam, of not being the one to soothe her cries or hold her when she gets fussy.
“Alright, Callie,” Brooke says suddenly, breaking into my thoughts. “What’s up? You’ve been quiet all morning.”
I hesitate, glancing at Taylor, who gives me a knowing look.
“It’s Ruby,” I admit finally. “She’s supposed to go to Adam’s tomorrow for her first visit. It’s the six-week mark, and it’s his time, but... I’m not ready. I’m nervous.”
Brooke’s face softens. “Of course you’re nervous. She’s your baby.”
Taylor nods, her voice gentle. “It’s normal to feel that way, especially with Adam. You’ve been through a lot with him.”
I feel tears prick the corners of my eyes but blink them away. “What if she cries and he doesn’t know how to calm her? What if?—”
“Stop,” Brooke says firmly. “You’re her mom, Callie. You’re always going to worry about her, but you’re doing the right thing. She’ll be fine, and so will you.”
Taylor adds, “And we’re here if you need us. Call anytime, okay?”
I nod, their words sinking in. It doesn’t erase my anxiety, but it helps.
The knock at the door catches us all by surprise and my heart skips. It’s rarely good news when someone shows up unannounced, but when I open the door, it’s Vince. His face is tired, a deep, eternal tired, and he offers a polite smile..
“Hey, Vince,” I say, stepping aside to let him in. “Come on in.”
He nods and steps into the kitchen, his hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie. His movements are stiff, guarded, like he’s holding himself together by sheer will. I’m about to ask if he’s okay when Brooke speaks up.
“Okay, who is this, and why didn’t anyone warn me he’s this attractive?” she whispers to Taylor, her voice carrying just enough for me—and probably Vince—to hear.
I blink, momentarily stunned. Brooke isn’t the type to blurt something like that out. She’s usually the quiet one, not the one making bold comments about someone she’s just met.
I shoot her a look that says seriously? .
“Hi,” Vince says politely, a faint blush rises up his neck. He awkwardly clears his throat. “You must be Brooke and Taylor?”
Brooke grins, undeterred. “Guilty. Want a cookie?” She holds out one of the more elaborately decorated ones from the tray on the counter. “They come with a sugar high and a side of glitter.”
He hesitates before taking one of the plain cookies. “Thanks.” His faint smile is more polite than warm.
“So,” Brooke says, clearly not done, “do you have a twin brother?”
I groan inwardly. This is not like her. What is she doing?
Vince blinks, caught off guard. “Uh, no. But I do have a brother. He’s married.” He pauses, his mouth twitching into something closer to a real smile. “Other than that, I have a six-year-old at home.” I don’t miss that he doesn’t mention his girlfriend Zoe in this conversation. What the hell?
Brooke raises an eyebrow, looking far too intrigued. “A dad? Even better.”
Owen walks in before she can say anything else. He glances at Brooke, then at Vince, and shakes his head. “Brooke, can you not scare off my cousin?”
She holds up her hands, all innocence. “Just making conversation.”
“Right,” Owen mutters, before turning to Vince. “Hey. Everything okay?”
Vince’s smile drops, replaced by a flicker of hesitation. “Can we talk?”
“Yeah,” Owen says, gesturing toward the living room. “Let’s step in here.” He closes the door behind them.
I tell myself not to eavesdrop, but it’s impossible not to catch fragments of their conversation. Zoe’s name comes up, followed by words like “fight” and “worse than usual.” Then, finally, Vince’s voice, firmer than before: “We’re done.”
The finality in his tone makes something twist in my chest. I can’t imagine how hard that must have been for him, especially with his daughter Ainsley in the picture. My arms tighten instinctively around Ruby, her warmth grounding me as she sleeps peacefully in the wrap.
Vince reappears and his shoulders seem lighter, though his expression is still subdued. He nods a goodbye to me, offers a polite “Nice meeting you” to Brooke and Taylor, and slips out the door.
The silence lingers for about three seconds before Brooke speaks up.
“So, Zoe’s out of the picture, huh?” she says, reaching for another cookie.
“Sounds like it,” I say, adjusting Ruby as she stirs.
Taylor nods. “Good for him. He seems like a good guy. He deserves someone who actually appreciates him. From what you’ve told me, Zoe sounds like a nightmare.”
Brooke smirks, her tone playful but her eyes thoughtful. “Maybe someone like me?”
I nearly choke. “Brooke!”
“What?” Brooke asks, her tone innocent, though the mischievous glint in her eye gives her away.
Taylor rolls her eyes. “You’d eat him alive.”
Brooke gasps, clutching her chest as if Taylor’s words physically wounded her. “Excuse me, but I’ll have you know I’m an amazing girlfriend. Attentive. Thoughtful. Great at picking restaurants. And I bake.” She gestures grandly to the chaos of the kitchen.
I can’t help but laugh, the corners of my mouth tugging upward despite myself. Brooke, steady, sensible Brooke, is usually the calm one in the room. I’m surprised to see this side of her—flirty, teasing, a little reckless. It’s unsettling. Is something going on with her? The thought flits through my mind, but I push it aside. This isn’t the moment to ask.
Instead, I let my gaze drift around the room. The kids are sprawled on the floor, laughing and playing with cookie cutters as though the world doesn’t extend beyond this kitchen. The counter is a war zone of sprinkles, frosting, and half-decorated cookies. It’s the kind of mess that would normally make me cringe, but right now it feels like a snapshot of my life in motion.
The weight of tomorrow—the thought of Ruby going to Adam’s for the first time—still presses on my chest, heavy and unrelenting. But this moment? This is good. This is what I’ll hold onto when everything feels too big, too overwhelming. A house full of laughter, the smell of cookies in the air, and the steady, comforting rhythm of people who care.