Chapter 3
OLIVIA
The wheels on the rickety shopping cart rattled against the checkered linoleum as I pushed it down the cereal aisle.
The Save ‘N Shop hadn’t changed much over the years.
Even some of the staff were the same. I recognized at least three weathered faces from when I was a kid.
The faint scent of old grease clung to the cream-colored walls, a casualty of butting up next to the Dairy Queen for decades.
It was like stepping into a museum honoring retro grocery stores, which honestly just added to its charm. I was at least ninety percent sure that nothing had been updated since the eighties, except for the addition of computers at the checkout counters.
“Moooooom,” Charlie sang, tugging on my sleeve. “Can we get Fruity Pebbles? I want some for dessert!”
I raised my brows and stared down at my daughter.
At nine going on eighteen, she’d grown way too much for my liking.
It felt like she was changing right before my eyes, and I selfishly hated it.
I wanted her to stay this sweet little girl forever and not have to worry about all the bullshit that came with growing up.
Her blue eyes, the ones I’d always struggled to say no to, stared back. It was like she was trying to break me down. Dammit, the kid was too good. She always had been.
Since picking her up from her dad’s house this morning, Charlie had been stuck to my side.
She’d droned on about school and her friends and how she wanted to be captain of her soccer team next year.
I didn’t think I got a word in the entire time.
It damn near broke my heart. Guilt was my constant friend lately.
It may have only been a few weeks since I’d seen her, but that had been a few weeks too long.
Work had been more hectic than usual. I’d spent the past six months flying back and forth between Los Angeles and Pinecrest, while Grady and Cleo had moved to Pinecrest permanently.
It’d been a weird change at first, going from a big house in Nashville to crashing in my brother’s cabin, but we made it work.
I was waiting to buy something until I knew I could settle in it properly, to make it the perfect forever home for Charlie and me.
Lately, it seemed like that dream was slipping further away.
Finding a work-life balance had always been a struggle.
I spoke with my uncle at length before accepting my position as CEO, and he didn’t sugarcoat how difficult it would be at first, but that wasn’t anything I didn’t already know.
The sad reality was that I would need to bust my ass even more than my male counterparts because not only was I a woman, but also a mother. It was bullshit, but that was business.
Everyone needed something from me, yet I was constantly fighting to be taken seriously.
The word “nepotism” had been thrown in my face more times than I could count.
Meanwhile, our profits had been on a slow but steady incline since I took over.
Not that anyone took that into account when they gossiped about my leadership, though.
Apparently, I needed a certain appendage between my legs for anything I did to matter in their eyes.
At first, it was fine. Grady and I had the co-parenting thing down.
It was always easy for us. But as my job became more demanding, he had to take on more responsibilities.
He didn’t mind, but I struggled with our new reality.
I hated not being present, but I thought it was temporary.
I thought proving myself would be over by now. If anything, it had only gotten worse.
I wanted to be the one taking Charlie to her soccer practices and concert recitals. I wanted to be there for every parent-teacher conference or talent show. I wanted to already know what her favorite freaking food was, not find out while standing in the damn grocery store.
Looking back, I wasn’t sure how my dad managed to do it.
He loved the company, but the company never came before his kids.
When my uncle took over Hartstrings in the interim, he did the same.
Neither my brother nor I ever felt like we came in second.
Maybe that was just a benefit of the times, or maybe it was because men didn’t have to worry about doing more than was asked of them.
Every day, it was getting harder to justify the cost of my career.
“Fruity pebbles for dessert?” I asked.
She nodded vigorously. “Yeah! It’s not so different from eating cake, right? I mean, it’s kind of the same thing.”
“Can we compromise?” I asked, coming to a stop in front of their cereal selection.
I’d planned out a whole day for us. After dropping off our groceries, we were going to go get our nails done, do a little shopping, and have lunch at a cute little sub shop on Main Street before coming home and binging movies on the couch.
I still hadn’t mentioned John’s condition, nor did I plan on it.
Not today, anyway. I wanted one good day with Charlie before I burst her carefree bubble.
I already knew how much it would hurt. She loved John. With Grady’s dad living in Texas, he was like a second grandpa to her. Always taking her places when Grady or I couldn’t, and he completely spoiled her rotten.
Hearing that he was sick wouldn’t be easy for her.
Charlie lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders. Good lord, this kid was only nine. How was she capable of giving so much sass? “Like what?”
I scanned the shelves. Was there anything considered a healthy cereal? “What about some Honey Nut Cheerios? They’re sweet, but an argument could be made that there’s some nutritional value.” At least, I think?
Charlie had never liked cereal growing up, so this phase was new.
Something I would’ve known if I had been around more.
My daughter studied the options, biting down on her bottom lip as she prepared to launch a counterargument. “What about Fruit Loops?”
I laughed. “Girl, I don’t think that’s any better than Fruity Pebbles.”
“But they both have fruit in the name,” she said, pouting. “Doesn’t that mean they’re healthy? You and Daddy always tell me I need to eat my fruits and vegetables.”
I shook my head. “I wish it were that simple. That’d be pretty cool, huh?”
“If it’s not healthy, then how come Harper’s dad lets her eat it?” Charlie asked, crossing her arms. She was staring longingly at the overly sugary breakfast items. “Why can’t I?”
Oh boy. Charlie had always been an expert negotiator.
She knew how to work every angle to win us over, but she’d always respected our decisions.
We didn’t have to fight with her or try to force her to understand.
“I can’t speak for someone else’s parent, baby.
You know that. What they choose to do in their house is up to them,” I said.
Charlie let out a big sigh, and I thought the case was closed.
“Dad lets me have it,” she mumbled. “I wish I was going back to his house.”
Well, that fucking hurt.
“Ouch,” I said, looking down at her in confusion. “Thanks a lot, kid. Where is that coming from?”
“I don’t understand how everyone’s rules are different,” she said, raising her voice an octave. “Daddy has rules. You have rules. Harper’s dad has rules. Why aren’t any of them the same? It’s not fair!”
I couldn’t help but stare open-mouthed at my daughter as she stomped her little foot against the ground in indignation. “I understand your frustration, but being rude isn’t going to help your case. That doesn’t make me want to meet you halfway.”
“Okay, but why can’t we get it just this once?”
“Because I said no, Charlie. That’s why.
” I hated myself for saying it, for not being able to give her an actual answer she would understand.
It reminded me of my mother; how quick and easy she was to say no if it meant she’d have to be sober enough to drive me to a friend’s house.
“You’re more than welcome to get the Cheerios or nothing at all. ”
“Guess I’ll get nothing,” she said, stalking to the front of the basket.
I shrugged, fighting back tears as I grabbed a box of Raisin Bran for myself.
I couldn’t help but feel like the morning had gotten away from me somehow.
I was supposed to have one last good day before I had to return to a reality in which the man who helped raise me was dying.
Before I had to break my daughter’s heart, again.
Being a mom was the hardest thing I’d ever done. I wanted to crumble. To scream. To fall to my knees and wail about how life wasn’t fair, but I couldn’t do any of that. Instead, I had to put on a happy face and pretend that my daughter’s cutting words weren’t the icing on a fucked-up cake.
We walked down each aisle in silence. Every time I tried talking to her, I was met with a one-word answer, a clipped yes or no, or complete and total silence.
Would the guilt of my being away ever subside?
Sometimes I felt like a stranger spending time with my daughter.
Grady and I had both taken great care with how we explained our separation to Charlie.
We’d seen a therapist beforehand to figure out what to say and how to say it.
She had a lot of questions when we told her the news, but in the end, she seemed happy because we were happy.
Cleo absolutely adored her and vice versa. There were moments I expected to feel jealous of another woman being there for my child when I should be, but I didn’t feel any of that. She was terrific with Charlie, and could nurture her in ways Grady and I had always struggled to.
But it didn’t lessen the sting when she said she preferred being with them to me sometimes.
The sound of Charlie’s squeal caught my attention, but before I could stop her, she took off running down the aisle and disappeared around the corner.
“Charlie!” I called, chasing after her, but she didn’t listen. “Goddammit.”
I picked up speed, nearly colliding with another cart as I tried to slip past. “Watch it!” someone muttered, but I didn’t pay them any mind. I grabbed my purse from the child seat and left everything else behind.
“Charlie? Charlie!” My voice rose when she didn’t answer me.
Rationally, I knew she was safe. The Shop ‘N Save was small. A bell rang every time someone entered or left. It was likely that she saw a friend from school and had just gone to say hello or something. It didn’t matter what I told myself.
None of it worked to calm my fears, especially when she wouldn’t stop and answer me.
I could just make out the color of her scrunchie as she disappeared behind the last aisle, her little hand waving at someone down the way. “Char—”
My words came to an abrupt halt as I turned the corner and ran smack-dab into something hard.
I threw my hands out to stop myself from falling, but whatever I grabbed slipped free.
It felt like it happened in slow motion, like a train wreck you can’t help but watch, as a gallon of milk clattered to the floor and exploded all over me.