6. Addie #2
Addie still had a smile on her face when grabbed the cool metal handles and pushed open the double doors. Inside, her steps slowed as she took in the colorful posters taped to the walls. They mostly advertised bake sales and field trips.
“Mom!”
Addie turned at the sound of Sophie’s voice. Her daughter stood a few feet away, eyes wide with excitement. Like hers, Sophie’s hair was light brown and pulled back into a simple ponytail, with a few strands falling loose around her face.
Sophie wore a bright yellow shirt with a cartoon rabbit on it and navy blue leggings. She clutched a pencil with SpongeBob grinning up from the eraser end.
Addie opened her arms and Sophie ran forward, wrapping her arms around her mother. “I missed you, Mom.”
“I missed you, too, sweetheart,” Addie said, pulling away eventually. “Let me have your bag.”
Sophie handed her the pencil first. “Here, Mom,” she said, then held out her bag.
Addie slid the pencil into the front pocket, noticing how neat her daughter had kept everything inside. Sophie’s face was flushed with that excitement Addie always saw when her daughter was happy. Her brown eyes shone, just like her own.
“How was your day?” Addie asked, brushing a hand gently over Sophie’s hair.
“Natalie kept reminding me of her mommy’s birthday party. She says I can come.”
Addie smiled at her daughter’s excitement. “We’ll see about that. First, let’s get you home.”
As they walked to the car, Sophie chattered about her day. It was the usual—games, snacks, something funny a classmate did—but then she mentioned the birthday party again.
“Her mom is having a big party,” Sophie said. “It’ll be so much fun. And she’s got two moms.”
Two moms . Addie wasn’t ready for how much that stung.
She buckled Sophie into her car seat, listening with the occasional one-worded replies.
She wondered, just for a second, what it would be like if Sophie had more than just her.
Suppose she had a wife—a partner to share in moments like this, someone to co-parent, to provide love and care from both sides.
The thought lingered as Alex drove them home. Addie wasn’t unhappy with her life. She adored Sophie, and they had a good rhythm. But she wondered what it’d feel like if Sophie had two parents to lean on.
“Mommy, we’re home,” Sophie said, rousing her back to the present.
Addie blinked quickly. She helped Sophie out of the car, picking up her bag and shutting the door behind them. If Alex noticed anything strange in Addie’s musing, she said nothing.
Sophie was too excited to notice any difference in her mother’s mood.
“Thanks, Alex,” she said before they headed up the front path .
“Can we make pasta tonight?” Sophie asked as they walked to the front door.
“Sure thing,” Addie said, smiling. “But only if you help me.”
“Yay!” Sophie bounced on her feet.
“That means you have to freshen up pretty quickly,” Addie said.
Addie unlocked the door, holding it open for Sophie before she stepped inside.
She loved the fresh scent of rosemary that hit her as she stepped into the living room.
She stopped and scanned the space as she took in the clean lines of the modern furniture—sleek, dark wood pieces and a light gray couch with neatly arranged throw pillows.
Everything was in its place. The large windows let in soft light, casting shadows across the polished hardwood floor.
Sophie bounded past her to her room while Addie remained standing in the entrance.
Her first thought was to sink into one of the couches.
She sighed, considering it, when her eyes caught a framed picture of her and Sophie on the mantel.
Addie’s eyes lingered on it for a moment before she pulled her gaze away.
With a quick glance around, Addie went to the counter, placed her keys down neatly, and then moved to the living room’s low coffee table.
She picked up a few papers, sorting them into a neat pile, before glancing toward Sophie’s room.
She could hear her daughter in there, the sound of drawers opening and closing as she got ready to help with dinner.
With a sigh, Addie sank into the couch, her phone propped against a throw pillow. The screen blinked once: Incoming video call from Mom.
She answered the call, and her mother’s face appeared. She had the same sharp jawline and brown eyes as Addie and Sophie.
“You look tired,” her mom said, blowing into the coffee mug in her hand.
“Long day,” Addie said. She leaned back, tucking a cushion under her arm. “Nice cardigan.”
“This?” Her mom chuckled, patting her pale blue cardigan. “Thanks, honey.”
“How’s Boston?” Addie asked.
“Cold. But the leaves are stunning right now,” her mom said. “You should bring Sophie here for Thanksgiving.”
Addie chuckled. Her mother would never let them have Thanksgiving anywhere else but in Boston.
“We’ll see,” Addie said. “Traveling for a week with a kid is like packing for a month-long expedition.”
Her mom gave a short laugh. “You always manage it just fine.”
Addie hesitated, glancing toward Sophie’s room. She lowered her voice. “Not everything, it turns out.”
Her mom’s eyebrows rose. “Oh?”
Addie shifted, the cushion bunching under her elbow. “It’s nothing serious. There’s a new doctor at the hospital.”
Her mom sat up straighter. “New doctor?”
Addie sighed, suddenly realizing that it was no use talking about Giselle. For goodness’ sake, they weren’t even friends yet. They were merely colleagues.
“We work together,” Addie said. “And she’s...not the warmest person.”
Her mom tilted her head. “And you’re drawn to her?”
Addie rolled her eyes. “It’s not like that. She’s brilliant, okay? And frustrating. And gorgeous. ”
Her mom grinned. “Gorgeous, huh? That’s a nice bonus.”
“Don’t start.”
“I’m not starting,” her mom said. “I’m just saying it’s been a while since you’ve called anyone gorgeous.”
“That doesn’t mean anything,” Addie blurted.
Her mom merely smiled at her with those brown, knowing eyes. They seemed to say Go on, convince yourself .
Addie shook her head. “I just don’t need the distraction.”
“Does she like you?” her mom asked.
“I hope not,” Addie said. “Or maybe…I don’t know, Mom. I’m not talking about her in that sense. We’re just colleagues.”
“You’re allowed to have a life,” her mom said.
“But I shouldn’t be acting like some teenager around a colleague I’ve barely spoken to.” Addie ran a hand through her hair.
“That’s the beauty of it all, isn’t it?” her mom asked.
“I just want to work and take care of Sophie, Mom. ”
“You’re overthinking this,” her mom said. “Do you want me to come down? I could help out, give you some time to figure things out.”
Addie shook her head quickly. “No. I’ve got this.”
Her mom gave her a long look. “You sure?”
“Yes,” Addie said.
A door creaked open and Sophie walked into the living room. Her hair was damp, tied back into a small ponytail, and she’d changed into a purple shirt with a bunny on the front. She held a stuffed bear in one hand and looked curious.
Addie waved her over. “Come say hi to Grandma.”
Sophie climbed onto the couch and sat close to Addie. “Hi, Grandma!”
“Hello, my sweet girl,” her mom said. Her face lit up and she waved at the screen. “Did you have a good day at school?”
“Yeah!” Sophie said. “We did painting, and I made a picture for Mom.”
Addie nudged her lightly. “You didn’t tell me that.”
“I wanted it to be a surprise,” Sophie said. “But now it’s not.”
Her grandma laughed. “That’s okay. Surprises are overrated.”
Sophie nodded, her focus returning to the screen. “Are you coming to visit us, Grandma?”
Her mom glanced at Addie. “Not yet, but maybe soon.”
Sophie frowned. “Why not now?”
“Because your mom says she’s got everything under control,” her grandma said. “And I trust her.”
Sophie looked unconvinced. “You should come anyway. Then we can bake cookies together.”
Her grandma smiled. “That’s tempting. Maybe closer to Christmas.”
Sophie brightened at that. “Okay!”
“Alright, you,” Addie said. “Go start your homework.”
Sophie slid off the couch reluctantly, dragging her bear. “Okay, Mom.”
When the door to Sophie’s room closed, Addie turned back to the screen. Her mom’s expression had softened.
“She’s doing well,” her mom said .
“She’s great,” Addie said. “Which is why I can’t afford to mess anything up.”
“You won’t,” her mom said. “But don’t let fear stop you from trying.”
Addie sighed. “I know.”
Her mom glanced at her watch. “I need to go. But Addie, take it slow if you need to. Just don’t shut the door before you’ve opened it.”
Addie nodded. She wanted to argue that she wasn’t starting anything with Giselle, but that didn’t feel completely honest.
“Love you, Mom.”
“Love you, too,” her mom said before the call ended.