Lucy #2
He chuckled. “Are you kidding? I can’t imagine if she wasn’t able to.
The fit she’d throw would go down in the history books.
But honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
It’s total chaos with all of us under one roof.
Something almost always gets spilled or dropped.
Someone drinks too much. I always eat too much.
It’s a good time.” He grinned over at me.
“That sounds awesome,” I murmured sincerely, thinking what a far cry his holidays had been from mine.
As though sensing the direction of my thoughts, he changed the subject. “How much you wanna bet there’s barely a pile left for a dump run by the time we get back?” He quirked a brow.
“My left arm,” I deadpanned.
He chuckled. “At least we tried.”
“We did,” I agreed. “Thank you for your help.”
“Anytime.” He looked at me with an expression I could only classify as a longing that mirrored my own.
He settled something in me even as he riled everything up.
One thing was for sure—I wanted the man more than I’d ever wanted anyone before.
If only my past couldn’t taint the future—one I was finally free to define and eager to embrace with both arms.
My mother’s ringtone woke me out of a dead sleep the next morning. After Hudson and I had finished lunch, he’d loaded up his truck with the items Goodie had managed to part with. He’d left with a promise to be in touch, as though instinctively knowing he’d pushed me enough for one day.
How the man clearly had my number so readily was beyond me.
Groaning, I reached for the phone and, before I could think better of it, answered her call.
“Lucy? I’ve been calling you for days! Why haven’t you answered?” she demanded by way of greeting.
I blamed being half asleep for my stupidity, though I knew I couldn’t keep putting off what was bound to be a difficult conversation. I sat up and rubbed a hand over my bed head as I locked eyes with the mallard painting on the far wall, hoping somehow he’d give me a bit of fortitude.
I may have truly lost my mind.
“Because, Mother—” I sighed with feigned patience. “—you keep saying the same things, and nothing has changed.”
“Well, that’s because this is insane,” she sputtered. “Moving to that godforsaken town? Breaking up with your fiancé? Josh is beside himself, by the way.”
“We weren’t engaged.” I rolled my eyes.
“Well, it was inevitable.” She sniffed indignantly.
“Clearly not since I broke up with him,” I pointed out logically. “Josh is only upset because he lost his arm candy for fundraising events. I deserve better than that, and as my mother, you should want more for me too.”
Despite my hands shaking, I was proud of myself for standing up to her. I almost never did. Clearly, my short time in Green River was already rubbing off on me in the very best way.
“Your father and I want what’s best for you,” she insisted, and in some way, I believed she was sincere. And that was part of the problem.
“Then let me live the life that makes me happy,” I pressed. “You’d have to be blind to not see I was miserable in DC. I didn’t want to be a Stepford wife. I didn’t want my life revolving around fundraising dinners and pushing out babies when it was deemed appropriate to do so.”
“Don’t be crass,” she admonished.
“Mom.” I swallowed back the emotion I was determined to tamp down.
“Josh was awful to me. Our relationship was a transaction that you and Dad orchestrated. It took me far too long to realize that I deserve better. And while I was at it, I realized I deserve better from you, too. I’m finally making my own choices, and I think I’m going to be really happy here.
So, you can choose to be a part of that, or you can stop calling and harassing me to come back.
Because that’s not going to happen,” I told her firmly.
“You’re making a big mistake, and I only hope Josh is patient enough to wait for you to realize it. I think he has half a mind to come and talk some sense to you,” she clipped reproachfully.
And there it was, the reality I’d been denying but had to finally acknowledge if I was to truly move on.
There had been a part of me, the little girl who’d loved her parents and had lived to please them, that had hoped they’d choose me. The truth was that they never would.
But the moment I’d decided to leave DC, to leave Josh and the life I’d been living, I’d chosen me. And I’d keep choosing me. Which meant letting them go.
I allowed the tears to well up, blinding me as I cleared my throat. “I sincerely hope he doesn’t do that. And I think we’ve said all there is to say. I hope you and Dad take care of yourselves.”
I hung up, the grief landing on my chest so swiftly it stole my breath. Despite knowing it was the right decision, especially after that last conversation, it still fucking hurt.
For the next few days, I self-isolated, all but ignoring texts—some from Josh, which were all too easy to ignore.
When my cousin and aunt texted, I kept my responses brief, not wanting them to worry.
There was one from Katie, inviting me to go for a run.
And one from Hudson, asking if I’d acquired any new furniture without him.
It had made me smile, but I hadn’t responded, instead slipping back into sleep.
A loud banging woke me. I rose up on one arm, my head cocked to the side, listening. It sounded again. Clearly someone was at the front door. I groaned, unsure of the day or the time.
I stumbled through the living room, looking through the peephole to find my aunt standing there looking vexed, which did not bode well for me.
“Oh good, so you’re alive,” she huffed when I’d opened the door, and she’d stepped through, letting herself in.
“Guilty as charged.” I grimaced, knowing I must look a mess.
“Why do you look like you’re just waking up? Are you sick?” Concerned, she stepped into my space to hold a hand to my forehead.
The move was so maternal, so full of genuine concern for me, that I burst into tears.
“Oh honey,” she sighed, pulling me into her arms and holding me tight. “I just knew you were taking all of this a little too well.”
“Kind of snuck up on me.” I sniffed. “Well, snuck up combined with a conversation with my mother that was more like a sledgehammer over the head.”
“I can only imagine,” she tutted. “Those two never did get their priorities straight.”
“Sort of can’t believe we’re related,” I muttered.
She laughed. “You and me both.” Her expression sobered.
“But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. I had my own process working through the fact that I’d never be close to my brother, which got all that much harder when they had you because I wanted to be there for you.
But we managed, didn’t we?” She smiled and wrapped an arm around my shoulders.
“We did,” I agreed. Though we hadn’t seen each other often, my aunt had sent cards for every birthday and gifts every Christmas.
My parents had even let me spend a few summers with her, which had been the best of my life.
And as I’d gotten older, we’d remained close. She’d always made me feel less alone.
“You’re going to have to process this, honey.
Really sit with it. It’s going to take time, but nothing worth doing is ever easy,” she reminded me.
“Now, what do you say we pick up some Chinese and head over to Daphne’s?
She’s not working tonight. We can help put Jo to bed and watch something cheesy. ”
“That sounds great,” I replied. “Throw in some ice cream and its perfect.”
“You got it.” She grinned.
And later that night, nestled between my aunt and cousin after copious junk food and sweet baby cuddles, we settled in to watch a rom-com and all laughed at the same scenes, and I realized something.
I may not have been able to pick my parents, but I couldn’t have asked for better family. Now I was determined to hang on to that with both hands as I moved forward in this new life of mine.
One step at a time.