Chapter 14
Celine
I’d woken up with an extra spring in my step. I typically spent my weekends doing endless chores and desperately searching for a way to feel “caught up.”
But the impromptu town bonfire party had interrupted my weekend, resulting in a lot more hanging around than usual. Yesterday had been rainy, so we’d had a family Monopoly battle before making fancy grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner and watching Lilo & Stitch, Julian’s favorite movie.
I woke at five, slipped out of bed without disturbing Julian, who had come in around two, and threw on a pair of leggings and a sports bra.
As I headed out into the cool fall morning, a new determination hit me. We were okay. The kids were healthy and happy. I’d made friends. Actual friends.
And it was fall, my favorite time of year.
After a twenty-minute run up and down my favorite hill, I determined I was badass enough to treat myself to coffee. Maybe I’d get really wild and defrost a croissant I’d stashed in the freezer.
Propped up against the counter, I watched the sun rise over the tree line and sipped my coffee. After that first taste, I took a second to breathe. I was doing it more than usual. Just letting myself exist.
The moments were small, but their effects infiltrated my whole body. Carrying so much tension and the anxiety all the time was exhausting. I’d gone years without sleeping a full night or taking a full breath.
But my instincts, the same instincts I’d spent years questioning and doubting, had served me well this time.
Maplewood was good for us.
Our future was looking brighter.
Coffee in one hand, phone in the other, I opened my email app and scanned one of the newsletters I’d subscribed to.
I clicked out of it, then scrolled, quickly reading subject lines until I discovered one that made my stomach plummet.
Oh fuck.
I steadied myself on the counter. Shit. Shit. Shit.
Don’t read it. Don’t do it.
My finger took over, tapping on it, even though I was certain I wouldn’t like what I found inside.
Phyllis.
She’d created yet another Gmail account to use to harass me. Just fucking great.
I skimmed the multi-paragraph email, noting all the usual rhetoric my former mother-in-law typically stuck with.
You’re ungrateful and cruel.
How could you do this to my son? You drove him to depression and alcoholism.
I always knew you were a trashy whore.
I will take away those children. They deserve better than a mother like you.
How could you destroy my family?
You deserve to rot in hell.
Phyllis was not particularly creative or articulate. But over the years, her hatred of me hadn’t waned.
Back when I’d been a doormat who let my ex-husband terrorize me and my kids, she’d adored me. Of course she had. I’d provided her with grandkids, always chipped in with the dishes on Thanksgiving, and never complained.
But her true colors had begun to shine through when Donny was arrested.
She’d even hired a lawyer and petitioned the court for grandparent custody rights.
Lucky for me, those rights didn’t actually exist. Regardless, she argued that I was an abusive mother and that she should be given sole custody of my children.
Her suit had no merit. But it had cost me tens of thousands of dollars in legal fees and many, many months of worry and stress.
That, I assumed, had been her plan from the beginning anyway. Donny learned the abusive tactics from someone, right?
I set the phone on the kitchen counter, stepped away, and closed my eyes and counted to ten. Then I did exactly what I’d done the dozen or so times this had happened before. I forwarded the email to my sister and my lawyer and then blocked the email address.
“Mommy,” Julian yelled from upstairs.
Heart lurching, I wiped the tears out of my eyes.
Fuck Phyllis for ruining my day. She’d done it deliberately, choosing a Monday morning to ruin as much as she could.
“Coming.” I scraped my hair back, trying to school my expression.
The last thing Julian needed was more anxiety about his mean grandma stealing him from me.
Upstairs, I helped him get dressed and brush his teeth, then I distracted him with cartoons while I jumped in the shower.
For the entire five-minute speed shower, my thoughts tumbled through my head.
I told my lawyer. The logical thing to do now was ignore it.
Ignore Phyllis. But I was so sick and tired of living my life scared.
Scared that Donny or one of his toxic family members would drop a grenade into my day.
I was half dressed when Ellie groaned. “Mom.”
I darted into the girls’ room, only finding Maggie, who was fast asleep in the top bunk.
“Ellie?”
A retching sound echoed off the tile walls in the bathroom.
“Sweetie.” I peeked in, my chest already aching.
“I don’t feel good.” She peered up at me, looking so young, her skin sallow.
Shuffling closer, I held the back of my hand to her forehead.
Instantly, my stomach sank. She was burning up.
“When did this start?”
“Just a minute ago. I felt terrible when I woke up, and then I threw up.”
“Okay, sweetie. Let’s get you back to bed. Then I’ll get you water and some Tylenol.”
“No,” she groaned. “I’ll be fine once I brush my teeth.”
I brushed her hair away from her sweaty face. “You’re not fine.”
“I am. I’ll take a shower and be ready to go on time.”
My oldest baby was pale, glassy-eyed, and shivering.
When she was healthy, she acted like she was thirty-five, like she was completely independent, but like this, it was clear she needed me.
I pressed the back of my hand to her forehead again. “It’s probably a virus. But you need to stay home and rest, and you need fluids.”
Ellie never got sick, and when she did, she hid the signs and soldiered on. My poor kid put so much pressure on herself.
But to my surprise, she gave up the fight easily, nodding, a look of relief taking over.
For me, though, I was hit with another wave of concern.
Because I couldn’t stay home with her. I needed to get Maggie and Julian to school, plus I had my first curriculum meeting today.
Standing in the doorway, I flipped through all the worst-case scenarios like I always did. The thought of leaving my baby alone paralyzed me. What if she needed me?
“Mom,” she rasped. “It’s okay. I have my phone.”
My throat closed up. Dammit. “Is it charged?” When we’d move, I’d relented and given Ellie a “dumb” phone. The kind she could only use to contact preapproved numbers. She complained that it was worse than having no phone at all and rarely used it. Hence why it was never charged.
“Yes. I plugged it in last night.”
I took her in, noting the dark circles around her eyes. If she’d thought ahead like that, then she must have felt sick but hadn’t told me.
Sighing, I backed out of the room. I didn’t have a choice. I was on my own, so I’d do the best I could.
After confirming the phone was charged, leaving her with water, crackers, and my laptop, I got Julian and Maggie out the door.
Only to be met by Wayne, who was once again standing behind my van.
“Wayne’s here for his good-morning hugs.” Julian darted for him, scratching his ears and wrapping his little arms around the dog’s bulk.
Maggie followed, petting his head and chatting with him about the book she’d been reading.
“Okay, Wayne,” I said, stroking his floppy ears. “Time to go.”
Rather than wander away, he stared at the door, tail thumping.
“Ellie’s sick,” Maggie told him.
The dog didn’t move.
“Come on.” I grasped his collar, trying to move him along.
Again, he sat, perfectly still behind my car.
God, this dog.
I patted my pockets for my phone, then dove into my purse in search of it.
Luckily, he picked up after one ring.
“Can you come get your dog? He won’t let me pull out of the driveway.”
“Did you say good morning?” Josh asked, his tone light.
“Yes,” I snapped, “and I’m really not in the mood.”
“I’ll be there in two minutes. I’m in my truck.”
It didn’t even take him that long. When he pulled up, he hopped out, bringing a bag of dog treats with him.
At the sight, Wayne’s tail thumped even louder.
“Where’s Ellie?” he asked, peering inside the van.
My shoulders sank. “She’s sick.”
His face softened. “Where is she? What does she need?”
“She frew up,” Julian said.
Josh looked at me, concern written all over his face. The expression was kind. So kind it momentarily threw me off guard.
“I’ll keep an eye on her,” he said.
My breath caught, and I snapped back to my senses. “There’s no need.”
“It’s fine. I planned to work on this side of the farm today anyway. Does she have a phone in case of emergency?”
I nodded.
“Is it charged?”
A huff escaped me. How he anticipated my tweens inability to keep her phone charged, I didn’t know.
“Yes,” I said.
I unlocked my phone and navigated to the parental control app so I could add him as an approved caller. “It’s really okay—”
He held a hand up. “I’ll check in on her. Bring her snacks if necessary. Don’t worry, I won’t give her a chainsaw or anything.”
I shot him a glare over my phone while Julian laughed like the man had told the most hilarious joke he’d ever heard.
“Does she need medicine? I can run to the pharmacy.”
I shook my head. “I gave her Tylenol, and she’s going to try eating a few crackers, then let me know.”
Once I’d finished adding him to the approved list, I locked my phone and stuck it in my purse.
“It’s okay,” he said, eyes roving over me. “I know you feel guilty, but you’ve got to get to school.”
“I can try to run home during lunch,” I said.
“I’ve got it.” He patted my shoulder gently.
On instinct, I flinched.
Eyes widening, he took a step back.
“Sorry,” I said, my face flaming. God, why was I such a weirdo? It was a friendly pat, for God’s sake. He wasn’t pointing a gun at my head.
Without another word, I loaded the kids up, and Josh got back in his truck, taking his dog with him.
As I walked Julian to his classroom, he clung to me more than usual, and Maggie hadn’t said a word the entire ride to school.