Chapter 16 Vivien #2
Kid. Somehow, she’d ended up right back in 1993. Offering an easy laugh, she shook her head and suddenly wanted nothing more than an excuse. What should she say?
“I’d love—” Her phone vibrated and she seized the opportunity, pulling it out to check the screen. “Oh, dear.”
Lacey: Mom. I need you. Like, now. Please. I’m still in Destin, can we talk?
Huh. Lacey hadn’t gone to Jacksonville with Roman after her walkthrough in the morning? What was wrong?
“What is it?” he asked.
The excuse I needed, she thought. “It’s Lacey,” she said, reading the next text as it appeared.
Lacey: I can’t do this. I’m going to ruin everything. What do I do?
“I have to go,” she said simply. “She needs me to talk her off a ledge.”
“Good luck with that.” He gave her a cursory hug and walked off, leaving her feeling…yeah. Disappointed.
There was no other way to describe it.
Vivien wrapped both hands around a stemless wine glass and exhaled, the tension of the day loosening just a fraction as she leaned back against the cushioned banquette. Lacey had chosen a small neighborhood bar and grill with a forgettable name and an even more forgettable atmosphere.
It wasn’t sunny, noisy, or full of tourists, so it did the trick. Instead, the lights were low, there was some quiet jazz playing, and it felt just private and somber enough for both their moods.
Vivien’s mood wasn’t great—but her daughter looked positively wrecked.
She sat across from Vivien, her big blue eyes haunted with a world of hurt and worry, her shoulders slumped.
She’d left this morning looking like a sharp and elegant event planner with smooth waves and a slick outfit, but her clothes were a little wrinkled and her hair was downright bedraggled.
They’d hugged when Lacey arrived—longer than usual, a little tighter. Something was definitely bothering her, and Vivien was willing to bet it had everything to do with the fact that she was sitting at a bar with her mother and not hanging out with her boyfriend in Jacksonville.
“So,” Vivien said lightly, lifting her glass with a wry smile. “I take it my wishing you good luck didn’t help much today.”
She made a glum face. “What’s the opposite of luck? That’s what I got handed today.”
“I’m so sorry, honey.” Vivien grunted, hating when Lacey was unhappy about anything. “Tell me everything.”
She did—a long nightmare at Tidewater, the bride’s endless questions, the way time slipped through her fingers no matter how tightly she tried to hold it. All underscored by how much the project mattered to Tessa and how badly Lacey wanted to prove her worth and sign a big and profitable event.
Then came the talk with Roman, and the bombshell.
“Wait. What?” Vivien leaned in. “He asked you to move to Jacksonville? To live with him? I thought you two had just planned to spend a day or two there for fun. But the trip was to…”
“Find a place to live,” Lacey finished softly.
Vivien leaned back, emotions swirling as she processed this stunning news.
Lacey looked right at her with that mix of challenge and guilt and hope and doubt all in one glance—taking Vivien back two decades to a little girl who’d pulled a doll from a toy store shelf and started a saucy walk toward the cash register as if wanting it made her mother agree to buy it.
“Why are you smiling?” Lacey asked.
“I just had the flash of a memory,” she said.
“About what?”
Vivien closed her eyes. “Just you as a little girl.”
“Well, I’m not a little girl, Mom, but, yes, Roman has asked me to move in with him. At least for the season.”
“Okay,” she said, not wanting to react until she knew everything and until she was actually asked for advice.
Because this wasn’t five-year-old Lacey—this was twenty-five-year-old Lacey.
Her daughter was a grown woman with free will and a strong sense of right and wrong.
And she was in love. “And after the season?”
“I…I don’t know,” she said softly, probably in the same tone she’d used when Vivien asked how she planned to pay for that doll.
Vivien took a sip and listened as Lacey spelled out her dilemma, which was a classic. Did she choose her relationship or her career? Move or do long-distance? Trust a man she’d known for a few months or wait for a more traditional amount of time to pass?
Lacey shared bits of her conversation with Roman, giving the impression he’d been kind, respectful, but certain in what he wanted to do.
Also, he acknowledged it was a big ask.
A huge ask, Vivien thought, but remained quiet as Lacey laid out the true crossroads she faced and what might or might not be at the end of whatever path she chose.
Finally, Lacey stared at the wine in her glass. “He thinks we lost the apartment. And he’s…fine. Disappointed, but fine. He keeps saying it’s okay. That we can do long-distance. That he’s willing to wait.”
“So, the ball’s in your court—or end zone, if we’re keeping the sports analogy right.”
She didn’t smile. “He keeps talking about how fun it would be if I lived there. Like—really lived there. Jacksonville. The season.”
“Feels very…finite,” Vivien said. “Like it has an ending.”
Angling her head, Lacey sighed. “I guess that’s good and bad. If it ends, then…it was just a season of football and life. If it doesn’t…”
“Then this could be…forever.” Vivien leaned in, her breath tight. “Do you think he’s the man you want to spend the rest of your life with?”
Because, whoa, it was fast.
Lacey stared at her. “I…think. I don’t know. I need your advice, Mom.”
Vivien’s mind flickered to the diary entry she’d read the night before—remembering the look on Tessa’s face that night she was trying to decide whether or not to sneak out with some boy.
That’s what Lacey looked like—earnest and scared and wanting to take a risk but rightfully self-protective.
Vivien had counseled her young friend not to break the rules for something half-offered because she was worth more than secrecy, more than crumbs.
Different stakes. Same truth.
She kept her face neutral, her voice calm. This was not the moment to be a Mama Bear. She had to give careful, honest guidance and keep Lacey’s eyes wide open. But she certainly didn’t want to put a stop to the great love of her daughter’s life.
“So,” Vivien said slowly, “he’s not asking you to marry him.”
“No,” Lacey said immediately. “He was very clear about that.”
Vivien nodded, filing that away. “And you’ve been dating…what, two months?”
“A little more.”
“And he’s wonderful,” Vivien said, because that was obvious. “And you love him.”
Lacey’s eyes grew misty. “Yes. I do. Very much. More than anyone, but I know, I know. I’m young. It’s fast.” Lacey sniffed. “I just don’t know how this went from a summer romance with a dream guy to a life choice with major implications.”
“Well, you are young enough that decisions like this might feel bigger than they really are.” At Lacey’s “are you kidding” look, Vivien laughed. “I’m not trivializing this. It’s big and important. But it’s also…all good.”
“Doesn’t feel that way.”
“You have a fantastic man who loves you and a great job that showcases your natural talent.”
She made a face. “He’s fantastic and he says he loves me. And the job? I wasn’t that impressive today.”
Vivien leaned in, snagging hold of one word she had said. Says. “Do you doubt him?”
“No…” She drew the word out. “But…”
“But what?”
They sat in silence while Lacey searched for words and Vivien fought the need to mother too hard—to protect, to warn, to list every possible outcome.
“There’s no question his job is bigger, better, harder to get, harder to keep, and way more ‘important’ than mine.” Lacey used air quotes and Vivien didn’t argue. The guy made millions playing professional sports. To equate their jobs would be silly, but she didn’t want Lacey to devalue her work.
“This isn’t really about work,” Lacey whispered, the words sounding very much like a realization she was just having.
“No,” Vivien agreed. “It’s about your…worth.”
Lacey paled. “Yeah, I guess it is.”
“And,” Vivien continued, “you’ve yet to say whether you want to move in with him.
He says it’ll be fun and romantic and a memorable season.
What do you think and feel when you imagine that life in Jacksonville?
Regardless of whether it’s for a season or a lifetime, how does the idea of living with him feel in your gut, Lace? ”
Vivien had a suspicion she knew the answer but didn’t want to back Lacey into a corner. She had to reach the conclusion on her own.
Lacey looked away, staring at the wall. “I don’t know.”
“But I think you do,” Vivien said quietly.
Lacey’s shoulders sagged. “I want both. I want him. And I want my career.” She let out a soft groan and reached for Vivien’s hand. “What should I do, Mom? What’s the best and safest choice?”
Vivien threaded her fingers through her daughter’s. “Those aren’t always the same thing, honey.”
“Uh, not helpful,” Lacey teased. “I mean, what do you think I should do? You have…life. Wisdom. Experience.”
Vivien snorted. “And a divorce to prove that none of those things are foolproof and some fools are better ignored.”
“Please,” Lacey said softly.
Vivien inhaled, then exhaled, steadying herself. She met her daughter’s eyes.
“All I can say is to value yourself,” she said simply. “Not your job. Not your relationship. You. More than a possible future. More than a good time. More than the next adventure.”
Lacey’s breath caught.
“To me,” Vivien continued, voice thickening, “you are the greatest prize ever won. And if someone wants a prize like that…they should earn it.”
Lacey nodded slowly, the meaning settling in. “I hear you. You mean, like…with a ring?” She winced. “It’s awfully fast.”
“I know and I don’t necessarily mean with a ring. But with more than…the promise of a season. I mean…what if you don’t make the playoffs?”
Lacey rolled her eyes at the sports analogy, then held up her hand. “I hear you, Mom. I know what you’re saying. Don’t sell myself short.”
“Exactly.”