Chapter Twenty-Seven Tranquility Estates, Vermont Present Day #2
“Hey, Ms. Thomas.” Lily stood on the other side, looking even more ready for the stables in a flannel shirt and dark wash jeans, her braids pulled back underneath a baseball cap.
She held a wax-paper bundle in one hand that smelled suspiciously like sausage.
“My dad wanted me to bring this over for you. He made breakfast burritos. He was afraid you’d be too preoccupied this morning to remember to eat. ”
“Oh.” Chrissie blinked down at the bundle. “That’s really sweet, but he didn’t have to do that.”
Lily rolled her eyes in an exact imitation of Kat.
“He can’t help himself. Cooking is his way of showing he cares.
He’s like an old-timey grandma who thinks everyone around him is about to collapse from hunger.
It used to drive my mom crazy. Every time they had a fight, he’d spend like six hours making her favorite dinner to apologize. ”
Chrissie couldn’t help but smile as she accepted the gift.
“My nan—Scarlett’s grandmother, that is—was the same way. Only she never made anything delicious like breakfast burritos. In times of stress, she turned to quinoa.”
“Ew.”
“Agreed. But thank your dad for me. He’s done too much already.”
Lily rolled one shoulder in a shrug, looking embarrassed. “It’s a lot to take in at first, but you get used to it. You should see some of the things he’s cooked for your cat. He even puts parsley on the plates like in those canned cat food commercials.”
She made no move to leave. Chrissie was loath to invite her inside, knowing Kat might not appreciate an audience when she eventually emerged from Scarlett’s room, but the girl seemed inclined to linger.
“Did you want to come in for a bit?”
Lily peeked over Chrissie’s shoulder as she shifted from one foot to the other. “No, thanks. I don’t think Kat would want me here. She, uh, doesn’t really like me.”
It was on the tip of Chrissie’s tongue to deny this claim, but she had the feeling that wouldn’t go over well. Tranquility Estates was a place of truth, even more than a church or court of law.
“Don’t give up on her yet. I know she can be a lot, but she’s worth it.
” Chrissie felt the truth of her words reverberate down to her very bones.
If there was one thing this life had taught her, it was that the Kats and Scarletts of the world were always worth the effort.
“If it helps, I think you’re getting closer. ”
Lily brightened to such a degree that Chrissie wished there was some way to capture the image and save it for her daughter. That wasn’t the face of an enemy; that was a girl who desperately wanted in.
“It has been pretty cool having her around the house. Her and Rufio both. It can get pretty quiet with just me and Dad all the time.”
“Don’t forget the burritos.”
Lily rolled her eyes again, but it was different this time. Less like an annoyed teen and more like someone who was trying her hardest not to show her pleasure. “Are you guys like…dating now? You and my dad?”
Chrissie had no idea how to answer, so she stuck to the theme of the day: honesty.
“It’s under discussion, yes. But nothing is official yet, and if you and Kat genuinely hate the idea—”
“We don’t.” Lily looked startled at her own interruption, but she pushed through.
“At least, I don’t. You’re not nearly as bad as some of the other volleyball moms, and he’s been really happy these past few weeks.
Like, singing in the shower and buying new aftershave and stuff.
” She wrinkled her nose. “It smells kinda gross, but don’t tell him I said that. And don’t—”
But here she stopped, as if suddenly aware that she was a sixteen-year-old girl discussing her father’s love life with the woman responsible for it.
“I won’t,” Chrissie promised. Their eyes met in a moment of understanding that made Chrissie both happy and sad for the girl.
Happy, because Lily was obviously a kid with a good head on her shoulders, and sad, because that kind of responsibility could only come from a childhood fraught with heavy emotions.
“And can I ask you for a small favor in return?”
“I guess so.”
“Kat is about to get some pretty big news—bigger, even, than Scarlett’s cancer.” It was a strange thing to say, to assume that anything could be bigger than the loss of a woman who’d cheered Kat on through almost every childhood milestone, but Chrissie knew her daughter.
She also knew herself. Pushing back the rush of nausea that threatened to overtake her, she forced herself to keep going.
“There’s also a good chance that she’s not going to want anything to do with me after this. Will you—you and your dad both—be there if she needs you? I’d feel a lot better knowing she has you there to catch her.”
Lily eyed her with a strange glint. “She’ll still want you.”
Chrissie wished she was the adult in this conversation, the one with all the answers, but she felt very much like a lost seven-year-old wandering the halls of a hospital in search of someone to love. “You don’t know that.”
“Yeah, I do. I hate my mom for leaving us, hate her even more for how she broke my dad’s heart, but if she walked in the door right now, I’d hug her so hard.
” Lily pushed the brim of her hat down as if to shield the sudden spring of tears that welled to her eyes.
“I miss her, even after all these years. Sometimes, I think I always will.”
Chrissie watched as the girl turned away and trotted down the steps.
She stayed there, watching her retreating form and then watching the wind push through the trees and then watching not much of anything at all.
She had no idea how much time passed, the breakfast burrito long grown cold in her hand before the sound of the bedroom door clicking open caused her to whirl around.
The burrito fell to the floor with a heavy splat.
She braced herself for the inevitable—the tears, the recriminations, the stone-cold silence—but nothing could have prepared her for Kat’s small, tear-streaked face or the hesitant way she searched the room, as if uncertain whether or not Chrissie would be there waiting for her.
“Mom?” a tentative voice called, and there was something more than just a question in the word. It contained so much doubt…and even more hope. “Mommy? Are you still here?”
Chrissie crossed the room in three massive strides and yanked her daughter into her arms, so rough that it startled a grunt out of Kat. That grunt turned to a sob as Kat burrowed into her, clinging to her waist as though her every heartbeat depended on it.
“Of course I’m here, honey,” Chrissie said into that soft, smooth hair—hair that she’d washed times past counting, hair that she used to braid while Kat’s small, restless body squirmed between her knees, hair that smelled, even now, of the childhood bubble bath that had been Kat’s favorite. “For you, I’ll always be here.”