Chapter 3
Britain
After a shower, coffee, and some oatmeal. I settle into the bench in my kitchen nook with a piece of paper and a pencil. I title the page, “To do list for the peace” and draw a thick line directly beneath it. Actionable, physical tasks. I’m sitting there tap, tap, tapping on the piece of paper. Not allowing my consciousness to acknowledge what my subconscious is screaming at me. GO HOME. Ugh. There’s got to be other things I can do, right? Maybe I should list out the things I need to work through first, then I can list out the actionable tasks next to their partner. I flip the paper over and title this list “Shit I’m Holding On To.” This, this I can do. First line, my mother. Second line, him. Third line….Damian? No, not really. My father? Nope, that POS is dead to me. I got over him in the sixth grade.
Third line…are you kidding me? That’s it? That’s all that’s holding me back? Georgia and him? Wow, this is starting to look pathetic. First things first, though, I need an actionable task to help me move past my mom, which the answer is pretty obvious. Go home. Sure, but beyond that. What else? Do I meet with Alexander and spread her ashes? Do I go sit in her house? Do I go visit Aunt Rose? The answer is yes, to all these. I add them to the list.
Second, him. I’m at a loss here. I don’t exactly want to seek him out. I mean he dumped me 17 years ago. I was probably just a blip in his life, barely memorable. I can picture it now.
I see him across the way, and on instinct alone, I move in closer. The draw to him is just as strong now as it was all those years ago. My hands are clammy, my core is burning and rolling. I draw up just in front of him and make eye contact.
“Hi,” I say, almost breathlessly.
“Uh, hi,” he returns.
“It’s me, Britain,” I attempt again.
“Oh, okay. Yeah, I think you might have me confused with someone else? I don’t know that we’ve met before.”
I reply, “Uh yeah, we have. You broke my heart, crushed my dreams, and ruined the life I was supposed to have.”
He responds, “Yeah, that sounds pretty bad, but um, that wasn’t me.”
Classic. Maybe it’s enough to just go home, and let that situation play out organically. If for some reason I do see him, and he remembers me, great. Well, not great, but I’ll proceed with caution. However, the more likely scenario is either I don’t run into him at all OR I do and he doesn’t remember me at all, and his hot wife and gorgeous children laugh at me.
I was so young then. Now, looking back, maybe the reaction didn’t match the actions and I took it way too hard. I cringe. Obviously I took it way too hard, he never even contacted me again. Well, he never contacted me in those first 2 months at least. Clearly there was some miscommunication and I didn’t understand that I was just a bed warmer, nothing more. Maybe I was just naive and over romanticized some regular guy into my knight in shining armor. Or maybe it was just really awesome sex. Just mind-blowing, toe-curling, scream-at-the-top-of-my-lungs, great sex.
I grab my phone and shoot off a text.
Britain
Hi. So remember that new wardrobe we talked about on Friday? Yeah, I’m going to need that, like ASAP. But don’t you dare start working on it till Monday!!! Okay?
Jess
Are you kidding me? The carts are full, you just give the approval and it’s done. What’s the occasion? OMG, are you going to start dating???
lol, no. I’m going home and I need some armor. If I want to be a hot, bad-ass bitch, I definitely need to start dressing like one.
Also, approved. Lay it all on the personal cc, not the corporate account.
Done and done baby. Ooh, I’m soo excited!!!
Next up, I shoot off a text to Alexander.
Britain
Hi. I know it’s been awhile. How are you? I’m just going to come out with it, I’m going to go visit home and I wanted to know if you would be down to meet and we could spread mom’s ashes? Let me know, love you.
He’ll probably respond to me in 48-72 hours, I won’t hold my breath on that one. And finally, the big kahuna.
Britain
Hey, do you have a moment for a quick call?
Damian
Sure, now okay?
You got this, I tell myself as I hit the dial button on my phone.
It’s Tuesday morning at 9:00 A.M., which means I’m sitting in the land of beige walls and white noise machines. Carla leads me into her office, taking her usual place in the chair and me on the couch, my to-do list in hand. Once we’re both settled, she looks at me and her eyes go a bit wide, probably because I’m smiling. I never come to this place smiling. Never before our session, and definitely never afterwards.
“Good morning, Britain,” Carla starts cautiously.
“Hi, Carla,” I return, in a voice she’s probably never heard before because it’s almost chipper. “Guess what I did this weekend? I did my homework.” I say holding the to-do list up as proof. “And you know what I discovered? The only way I can work through some of this stuff is if I go home.”
Her smug smile slowly spreads across her face. She’s always right, and she knows it. “Well done. Do you want to talk about how you reached this conclusion?”
“Yes, and no. I’ve made the decision, now I just need to woman up and see it through. And right now, I’m working logistics to make it happen.” I say, my tone evening out to a much more acceptable pitch. “Also, I’ve decided to leave Scott Technologies. I told Damian yesterday.”
“Wow, that’s quite the big decision. How did Damian handle it?” She queries with a shit-eating grin on her face. She may have suggested I depart the company months ago, which I rebuffed at the time. So now Carla has come to gloat, and I let her have it. She was right. She’s always right.
“He was disappointed, but ultimately supportive. I told him he didn’t need to worry that I’ll go to one of our competitors. That I was taking an extended sabbatical from work to do work of a more personal nature. We also talked through some logistical things of me going home to California with regards to the kids. And, get this, he said he would cover everything until the end of the semester, which means I can spend a solid six weeks there, if I wanted to.
He said, and I quote, ‘you’ve never taken the time to take care of yourself the way you needed, and I failed you by constantly demanding your attention and support for myself. I’m sorry.’
I nearly fell out of my seat. Maybe we were just never supposed to be married. Maybe we were just better off as great friends. Maybe we only lasted as long as we did because we were ultimately good life partners and colleagues?”
“We could definitely explore that more, if you want to.”
“No, I think I’m ready to focus on some of the bigger elephants in my life.” Like Georgia, like him. “Oh, also, I let myself feel something! Sadness. I was finally sad about the divorce.”
“And how was that?” Carla asks.
“Fucking terrible. I cried for hours until I finally passed out. But it must have been cathartic because I slept. Sound, dreamless sleep. And now that I remember that feeling, I’m all in on getting it all the time.”
“Sounds peace-ful,” Carla muses. Yep, Carla, you got me. I’ve had a taste of “the peace” and now I want peace with all of it.
Walking out of Carla’s office building, I’m astonished at how non-crappy I’m feeling. My shoulders aren’t tense, and I’m not teary eyed from anxiety. My phone pings as I step into the parking lot.
Jess
Ready when you are boss.
I told Jess we needed to get together for a travel planning huddle after my session. I hit call while I slide into my Audi. The engine turns while I wait for Jess to answer.
“So, you’re really doing it?” Jess greets me.
“I am.”
“Okay, so I’ve already ironed out most of the travel plans, just need your approval.”
“Sounds good, hit me with it,” I say with a smile. Jess is the best at, well, damn near everything. But her travel itineraries are always first-class perfection.
“K, so fly into SFO on Monday. Stay the night at The Proper Hotel. Tuesday, meet your Aunt Rose in Berkley. Proceed from Berkley straight to your rental at Spearhead Lake. Well, actually you have to stop at a place called Broken Ridge Ranch first. That’s where the realtor is who will give you the keys. Don’t ask me why they couldn’t just leave the keys under a doormat or something. Freaking weirdos. I’ll put the addresses in the formal itinerary I’m emailing over. I reserved everything under the name London Scott, didn’t know how incognito you wanted to go.”
“Cute,” I interject. “Not going incognito, but that’s fine. Wait, is London the stage name? My alter ego?!” I ask mockingly. She ignores me and continues on.
“Also, the rental car will be waiting for you at The Proper Hotel. You’ll just need to retrieve it from valet. And while you’re gone, I have painters coming to the Virginia house. Anything else you want done while you’re away???”
“Hmm, any chance we can get Lauri out to start working on a primary suite redo?”
“I may have already scheduled an appointment with her, but I’m glad it was your idea.” We both laugh.
“Return flight for June 6th? I want to be home to drive the girls to summer camp.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Okay, and our reservation is all set up for The Salamander this weekend, right?”
“Yup, can’t wait,” she says. Whenever we need to celebrate, or mourn, or boost our spirits, we’ve formed a little tradition over the years where she and I take the girls somewhere for a slumber party. Since the girls are mid semester, we’ll stay local and do a quick overnight at the resort by their school.
“I’m going to miss you,” Jess says, her tone subdued.
“Aww, I’ll miss you, too. But it’s not like I’m going to stay there forever! Hell, it’ll be a miracle if I even stay all the way to June 6th.”
“Mm hmm, that’s what they always say. But then you’re going to meet some guy or reunite with a former love, and next thing you know I’m hiring cross-country movers for you and begging Tommy to relocate to California.”
“Ha!” I burst out in a laugh. “You’re reading too much smut, Jess. I’m staying at Spearhead Lake. Off-season. The only men there will be loggers and retirees. And even when I make my way into town, chances are slim I’ll find someone new, let alone someone I used to know and doesn’t hate me.” I say this as a little pang of anxiety settles in. I really just left everyone and everything behind because some stupid guy broke my heart and I was too weak to handle it rationally.
“Well, if you do run into someone you used to know, and they hate you, fuck em’.”
“Literally or metaphorically?”
“Depends how hot they are,” Jess replies, and the laughter consumes me.
“I brought the goods!” Jess exclaims as she empties out her tote filled with candy and snacks, most of them international with labels in foreign languages.
“Is this a peach Kit-Kat??!” Elodie screeches.
“Yup, you can thank Uncle Tommy next time you see him.” Before Eden was born, Tommy did a ton of international travel and always brought back the best candy from overseas for the girls. He must have stocked up on his last and final trip.
Me and Caroline are snuggled up on the couch in our suite, the fireplace roaring in front of us, while Elodie and Jess are sprawled out on the floor going through the ‘mother-load.’ I’ve always loved The Salamander, but because it’s only 15 minutes from the house, I rarely come here. I guess I’m not big on staycations. The suite we’re in is tranquil and classy, decorated in beige and aqua, with rich mahogany wood furniture. It’s probably best described as equestrian chic, or as Jess likes to say old money.
“Okay,” I pipe up, “are we watching Never Been Kissed or 10 Things I Hate About You?”
“I vote 10 Things I Hate About You, it’s basically just a modern Taming of The Shrew, right?” Caroline asks, blowing me away with her intelligence and maturity. “We’re doing a Shakespeare unit in English right now.”
Jess and I share a look of astonishment, “Um yeah, babe, that’s exactly right…where did my little girls go???” I say as I fake cry.
“Mom, we’re grown. We’re going to be fine while you’re gone, you know that, right?” Elodie says. I guess I’m going to have to start accepting the fact that my 15 and 14 year old are finally growing up…and don’t need me anymore.
The girls were what I would describe as late bloomers, just like me. In the sixth grade when most of their peers were wearing crop tops and posting on Instagram, my girls were playing Minecraft and building Lego robotics, and I loved that for them. But ever since they started at The Hamilton Academy, both of them have gone through this amazing transformation into confident, young women.
I fought Damian so hard not to send them there. I wanted them to have a ‘normal’ high school experience, which to me meant not going to boarding school to rub elbows with senators’ kids. Damian eventually won the argument by reminding me that I should want something different, more, for my own kids than what I had. He was right, and so the girls were enrolled, accepted, and have had the best school year, maybe, ever.
I look down at Caroline who’s curled up beside me. And just like Elodie is to Damian, Caroline is to me, my little carbon copy. Well, not little anymore since she’s officially taller than me, her 5’7” to my 5’5”. I gently push a few strands of her golden blonde hair that has the slightest of waves, naturally, out of her face and smile into her bright green eyes. It’s like looking in a mirror, but better. She has so much potential, so many more opportunities, and she can make all the right decisions, unlike me. I’ll never regret the choices that gave me my babies, but I will always carry the shame and guilt of my abandonment with me.
The tears come of their own accord as I look at Elodie and back at Caroline.
“Gawsh Mom, don’t cry,” Caroline says as she pulls me in for a hug. Elodie pops up off the floor and squeezes onto the couch on my other side.
“Group hug!” Elodie calls out, bringing Jess up off the floor to join in, too.
“I love you all, so so so much,” I say with a sniffle, because I’m crying like a little baby now.
“We love you, too.” “Love you, Mom.” “Love you, babe.” They all echo my sentiments.
“Okay, let’s watch some Heath Ledger now!” I say as I’m released from the bear hug. I immediately reach up to dry my eyes with the back of my sweatshirt sleeve.
“Who’s Heath Ledger?” Elodie asks, and Jess and I burst out laughing, feeling the full weight of our thirties on us now. My phone pings and I look down, then back to Jess.
“You got this?” I ask. “I just need to make a quick call.”
“Uh huh,” Jess says. As I leave the living space, I can hear Jess tell them, “You ever hear how a picture is worth a thousand words?” Both girls chirp out a quick “yes.” “Well, allow me to enlighten you.” I know she’s holding up her phone to show them, and both girls “ooh” and “ahh” in response.
In the bedroom, I hit the call button on my phone and wait a couple seconds for the answer.
“Hey, Brit. Long time, no talk,” Alexander drawls into the phone.
“Hey, you. You got my message?”
“Yup. Umm, I think I can make it back, like, end of May?”
“Yeah, that works. Like I said, I’ll be there till June 6th.”
“Cool. I’ll send you the code for the lockbox on mom’s house.”
“Great, that works, but I’m not planning on staying there. Um, I rented a little place up at Spearhead, but I’ll definitely check in on the house.”
“Sounds good, sis.”
We both pause on the line, waiting for the other to fill the void.
“So, are you still in Sweden?” I ask.
“Yup.”
“Cool,” I reply. Guess that’s that.
“Alright, Brit, well I gotta go. It’s like one in the morning here.”
“Shit, right. Sorry,” I say, feeling like an idiot.
“K, I’ll be in touch.”
“Sounds good.” I pause for a brief second, “Talk to you soon. Love you. Bye.”
“Bye, Brit.”
I’m used to my family, well my old family, not returning my affections, so it doesn’t even sting when he doesn’t return my ‘I love you.’ I plug my phone into the charger on the nightstand in a silent vow to soak up this night with my girls and not spend the time on my phone.
When I get back to the living room, 10 Things is queued up on the flat screen above the fireplace, and all my girls are huddled around Jess’s phone on the couch, looking for Heath Ledger posters on Amazon. I laugh, because of course they are.
Looking at the group of them, my little family, I think to myself, If this is all the love I’ll get for the rest of my life, I think I could be happy with that. Content. So I squeeze myself into the sofa, too, and settle in for our ‘room service-old school movies-foreign candy’ slumber party.