Chapter 23
Heather
“And then Aunt Margo said we could make homemade pizza!” April is squirming around so much in the passenger seat of my car that her seat belt keeps locking.
“Like, the kind where you get to throw the dough in the air and everything. Do you think I’ll be able to do it without getting it stuck on the ceiling? ”
“Knowing your Aunt Margo, that’s probably part of the plan.
” I glance over when we stop at a red light and nearly laugh at how she’s acting.
The look of pure joy on her face and the excitement that’s radiating from her are as contagious as they are sweet.
“She’s not exactly known for keeping things tidy. Especially when she cooks.”
It’s Friday night, and we’re driving to Margo and Noah’s place for what my sister has dubbed “Girls’ Weekend: The First Annual Margo and April Extravaganza.”
She’d pitched the idea at The Hideout the other night, insisting that I needed a break after working so hard, and that she wanted to take advantage of having April nearby while she still could.
The truth is, Margo has been trying to give me some alone time ever since we moved in with Grant. I’m not sure if she suspects something is going on between us—I hope not, I’m so not ready for that—or if she genuinely thinks I need the space.
Either way, Noah and Grant have a game tonight, so Margo jumped at the opportunity to have April all to herself for most of the weekend.
“She also said we could do face masks and watch movies and stay up as late as we want.” April ticks off each item on her fingers. “And she’s going to teach me how to braid hair the fancy way.”
“The fancy way?”
“You know, the kind that goes around your whole head like a crown? I saw it in a video online and it looks so cool.”
I smile even though there’s a small pang in my chest at the reminder that my little girl is growing up. She’s getting to the age where she wants to learn about makeup and hairstyles, and where sleepovers with her aunt are more exciting than staying home with her boring mom.
“That does sound cool,” I nod. “Just promise me you won’t let Aunt Margo give you a tattoo or anything crazy like that.”
April laughs. “Mom, that’s not even legal. I’m nine.”
“I know, sweetheart. But with your Aunt Margo, I feel like I should cover all my bases.”
“Cover all your bases…” April uses a mock-serious voice to give her best impression of me. Then she grins and adds, “What’s the worst that could happen?”
“Everything,” I reply automatically.
It’s become sort of an inside joke between us, something we started a couple of years ago when April was going through a phase of catastrophic thinking, convinced that every small risk would lead to disaster.
I started responding with the most dramatic, over-the-top, worst-case scenario I could think of, getting more and more ridiculous until she was laughing instead of worrying.
Somehow it stuck and has become our little way of acknowledging that yes, things can go wrong, but we’ll handle them together when they do.
“Seriously though, Mom, you should do something fun tonight.” She gives me a thoughtful, almost sympathetic look. “Like, I don’t know, watch a movie you actually want to watch instead of one of mine. Or take a long bath. Or order takeout and eat it in bed.”
I love getting glimpses of the smart, emotionally intelligent young woman she’s becoming, even if I do wish she would leave more of the worrying to me.
It’s hard to keep my heart from swelling with pride when she looks at me so sincerely and insists that I do something on my own to have a good time without her.
“When did you get to be so grown up?”
“I’ve always been this grown up.” She gives a half-shrug. “You just finally noticed.”
We pull into Margo’s driveway a few minutes later, and April is out of her seat belt and ready to open the car door almost before I’ve put it in park.
One hundred percent a kid again.
“Aunt Margo!” She’s already racing toward the front door where my sister is waiting with open arms.
“There’s my favorite niece!” Margo catches her in a big hug, laughing as April nearly knocks her off balance. “Ready for the best weekend ever?”
“So ready! Can we start with the pizza dough?”
“Absolutely. Go get washed up and we’ll get started.”
April gives me a quick wave over her shoulder and calls, “Bye, Mom!” Then she disappears into the house without a backward glance.
I grab her overnight bag from the trunk and walk up the driveway, trying not to feel too abandoned by how quickly she ditched me.
“She’s just excited.” Margo gives me a knowing smile as she takes the bag from me. “Don’t take it personally.”
“I’m not.” My voice is probably pitched a little too high to be fully believable, but I’m legitimately trying not to take it personally, so that should count for something.
“I’m happy she’s happy.” I follow her onto the front porch but don’t go inside.
“Thanks again for doing this. I know you’ve got your hands full with the baby coming and—”
“Heather, stop.” Margo sets the bag down and turns to face me. “Are you okay? You’ve seemed off lately. There was that work emergency the other day, and now you just seem so distracted and stressed. I’m worried about you.”
“I know, and I appreciate that. But it’s just work. You know how it goes.”
“What about that event you were planning? Did everything go okay with that?”
“It did.” I nod. “It went well—too well, actually. They were so impressed that now they want me to plan something even bigger. Which is great.” I lean against the porch railing and give a version of the pep talk I’ve been reciting in my head since I heard the news.
“It’s a huge opportunity and I should be excited about it. ”
Definitely not the most convincing pep talk I’ve ever given, and Margo sees right through it.
“But?”
I sigh. “But it’s a lot of pressure. And a lot of responsibility. And I’m already stretched pretty thin as it is.”
It’s all true. Work has been stressful. The new event is a bigger deal than anything I’ve handled before, and the stakes feel impossibly high.
But that’s not what has been keeping me up at night.
That’s not why I’ve been distracted and jumpy and unable to focus on anything for more than five minutes at a time.
That would be Grant.
And the way he looked at me in that hallway. And again at The Hideout, when he told that guy to leave and then said I deserved better than someone who only saw me as a mess.
“You need to take care of yourself,” Margo says, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“Which is why I called my masseuse at the spa downtown. You remember Kristina, right? She was the one who took care of us when we went there for your birthday. Anyway, she said she’d squeeze you in tonight no matter what, even though they’re usually booked solid on Fridays.
I told her you were in desperate need of some pampering. ”
“You’re not wrong, but you didn’t have to do that.”
“I know I didn’t have to. I wanted to. You’ve been working yourself to death, and you deserve a night to relax and not worry about anything. Please tell me you’ll at least consider it?”
It’s a blessing and a curse that my little sister can read me like a book.
Because yes, the offer is tempting. A massage sounds amazing, and the spa is one of those beautiful, upscale places with fluffy robes and cucumber water and ambient music that’s supposed to help you achieve inner peace or whatever.
But the thought of going there by myself and sitting in that quiet, meditative space with nothing to do but be alone with my thoughts sounds more stressful than relaxing right now.
“I’ll think about it,” is the best I can offer. “Thank you for calling ahead for me, anyway. And for taking April tonight. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
And I will consider it. I just can’t promise the spa will win a matchup against April’s suggestion of a non-PG-rated movie and takeout in bed.
“You’re welcome.” She pulls me into a tight hug. “Wherever you go, promise me you’ll do something nice for yourself tonight. If not the spa, then at least order fancy takeout. Watch trashy reality TV. Do whatever makes you happy.”
“I will. I promise.” I still have no idea what I’ll actually do with a whole evening to myself, but I give her one more quick hug before letting go. “Tell April I love her and please call me if she needs anything.”
“I’ll tell her, but she’ll be fine. We both will. Now go. Have fun. I don’t want to see you again for at least twenty-four hours. Maybe longer.”
I head back to my car and wave one more time before I pull out of the driveway.
The urge to head straight back home is tempting. Really tempting. The house is going to be empty, with Grant at his game and April here with Margo. It’ll just be me, alone, for the first time since we moved in.
The thought should be exciting and even liberating. But now that I’m faced with the reality of what spending the night in that big-ass mansion all by myself will look like, I’m honestly sort of dreading it.
So even though I start off driving home like I normally would, I surprise myself by pulling up in front of the spa fifteen minutes later.
Kristina is at the front desk when I walk in, and she treats me like an old friend even though we’ve only met one time before now.
“There she is.” She beams at me as she comes from behind the desk to shake my hand, no doubt leaving the receptionist thinking I must be someone famous, or at least very important.
“How have you been, Heather? Your sister told me that you’ve been working too hard lately and refusing to treat yourself. ”
“She’s probably right,” I admit. “But I’m here now. I’d love if you could work some of your magic on me tonight. I felt like I was floating on clouds for at least two or three days after the last time we were here.”
She leads me to a changing room and hands me one of those impossibly soft robes that feel like a warm, fluffy hug.