Chapter 16 #2
Just as I’m picturing us in the shower again, a buzz sounds from the coffee table, jolting me out of my current fantasy.
Knowing it’s likely Haley, Hazel, or Ronan, I set the throw pillow I’ve been holding back on the couch and turn to grab my phone.
My cheeks flush guiltily when I see Haley’s name on the screen. Logically, I know it’s fine to think about sex and other adult things even though I have a kid. But I’ve spent so many years ignoring my physical needs in favor of being the best mom I can be, it’s tough to adjust to a new perspective.
I’m an adult, I remind myself. Who’s in love with a man for the first time in her life. Who just had sex with him. Three times. It’s okay to think about that, too. It doesn’t mean I’m abdicating my parental responsibilities.
Still. I try to shove the sexy thoughts into a little corner to revisit later as I turn my attention to Haley’s text.
We’re good! We just had breakfast. Now we’re going to play some games. Not computer ones. But the ones like we have at home.
I smile at her response to my earlier message, asking how everything was going. I knew she was fine from the updates Hazel’s been sending me, but it’s still nice to hear that she’s enjoying herself.
Sinking onto the couch, I think for a second before replying.
So glad you’re having fun. I can’t wait to hear all about it. I have to work from eleven to three, but then I’ll pick you up at Hazel’s.
A few moments pass before she responds.
Is Ronan coming over tonight? I want to show him my nails. And Hazel is giving me some glitter polish so I can do his.
I laugh. Ronan will let her do it. I know he will. But I’d bet he has no idea how hard it is getting glitter nail polish off. He’s going to have flecks of glitter on his nails for days.
Yes, he’s coming over. We’re going to have grilled cheese and tomato soup, and watch Christmas Vacation.
The three dots on the screen blink briefly.
I can’t wait!
Then another message comes in.
Hazel has the games all ready. I have to go. Love you.
I smile at the screen.
Love you too, Hale.
As I look at our text exchange, the same contentment I felt earlier sweeps over me.
Things are good. Really good.
I have a wonderful daughter. A great boyfriend. A job I enjoy. It’s almost Christmas, with all the festivities and traditions that come with it. And before I know it, I’ll be entering a new year filled with possibilities I didn’t dare hope for before.
Oh, and I can’t forget about Hazel. My lovely friend who never gave up on her matchmaking skills even when I insisted I wasn’t interested.
“I know I’m not a single mom,” she told me a while back, “but I understand how it feels, thinking that love isn’t a possibility.
But there it was. Right here in Bliss. With someone I’d known for years.
Maybe the same thing will happen to you, Angel. You never know unless you try.”
Back then, I didn’t put much credence to her words. But now? I’m realizing there might have been something to them.
Now that I’m thinking about Hazel, I shoot off a quick text.
I hope Haley’s being good. If she gets to be too much, you can always bring her to Blissful Brews. She can do homework there until I’m done.
While I wait for Hazel to respond, I walk over to the mirror on the back of the coat closet and give myself a cursory glance.
From the neck down, everything looks normal—skid resistant shoes, jeans, and a green long-sleeved shirt with Blissful Brews printed across it.
But when I look at my face, there’s a glow to it. There’s a spark in my eyes.
I look happy. Just as I feel.
Haley’s great! Don’t worry. We’re going to play Jenga using the rules Alec’s friends came up with. Well. Not the drinking ones. But the others. And then I thought I’d take her to Barks n’ Bliss to play with the dogs. Rory said they just got some puppies that are super cute.
I try to take Haley to the shelter once a month or so to play with the dogs, so I know Haley will be thrilled by the impromptu visit. I tell Hazel that, along with thanking her profusely for taking Haley. I wrap it up by reminding Hazel that I’m always around if she needs anything.
Who knows, Hazel replies vaguely. Maybe one day you’ll be returning the favor.
Her comment gets my curiosity going.
Are Hazel and Alec trying? She told me a few months ago that they wanted to take time just to enjoy each other. After everything she’d been through with her ex, and then those awful men from her video game, I didn’t blame her. But now…
Maybe they are trying. Maybe they’re even pregnant right now. And I’ll get to be Aunt Angel, and Haley will want to babysit when she’s older, and what if Ronan and I end up having a baby and it grows up with Alec and Hazel’s—
I shake my head at myself. Years of trying to be practical, and now my imagination takes off at the drop of a hat.
I glance back at my phone to see it’s ten-thirty. Which means I have fifteen more minutes to kill before I leave for work. Normally, I’d be glad for the time to myself. But after spending all night and part of the morning with Ronan, I’m not enjoying the alone time as much as I used to.
Casting my gaze around the room, my attention slows as it passes over the cabinet that houses my infrequently-used art supplies. With a wry laugh, I amend that. More like almost-never-used. I think about getting them out occasionally, but there never seems to be time for it.
Maybe this year, though.
I walk over to the cabinet and open the door.
Inside are neat stacks of paints and pencils and charcoal and pastels.
My eyes are drawn to the pencils, and an image of Murphy racing across the snow comes to mind.
The snow would be tipped with shades of blue and silver and yellow.
Murphy’s deep red coat would be touched with bronze and gold.
And I’d make the sky a bright blue, with a few wispy clouds floating across it.
Then I imagine Ronan getting the drawing for Christmas. First, his eyes would go wide with surprise. Then, as he realizes what it is, his expression brightens. A pleased smile curves his lips.
And that’s what decides it.
Grabbing the pencils and a sketchbook, I carry them over to the dining room table and set them there as a reminder for later. It’ll mean some late nights, but Ronan’s worth it. Especially after everything he’s given to me.
I know he’s supposed to be in a meeting with his teammates—he left just after nine for a meeting at nine-fifteen—but I can’t resist sending him a quick message.
Just wanted to say hi. I miss you already. Can’t wait to see you later.
I’m not expecting him to reply right away, so I set the phone on the table beside the pencils and head into the kitchen for a drink of water.
I’m just reaching into the cupboard for a glass when my phone sounds a strident alert.
It startles me so badly I yip in surprise and almost knock the entire row of glasses over.
It’s only the mailman, I assure myself as I hurry to grab my phone. That’s why the motion detector went off. Or it’s the delivery guy. There are plenty of reasons why someone might come to my door in the middle of the morning. And most of them are perfectly innocent.
But can I really be blamed for being a little jumpy, considering?
On the heels of the alert, my doorbell chimes. Then three light knocks on the front door follow.
“Hang on!” I call out. But I have no intention of opening the door without looking first. So I snatch up my phone and tap the video preview to expand it.
At first, I have no idea who it is. But then again, it’s hard to tell since the woman—I’m almost positive it’s a woman—is holding a giant poinsettia that hides part of her face.
A neighbor, possibly? A well-meaning local who heard about the break-in and wanted to do something nice?
Or, as she lowers the poinsettia so I can see her face better, someone I was not expecting to see.
Sharon.
Justin’s mom.
My stomach twists. Why is she here?
Part of me wants to ignore her. Wait until she gives up and leaves.
But she didn’t do anything wrong, I remind myself. Yes, Justin’s a jerk, and that could be partially laid at her feet. But it’s possible she never knew what he did to me.
Still. She knows Justin was a suspect in the break-in, which she can’t have been happy about.
As I stand beside the dining room table, debating, the doorbell rings again.
Crap. I really should answer it. It would be rude not to. And if it’s weird and uncomfortable, I have to leave for work soon, anyway. So at least it’ll be a short conversation.
With a puffed breath, I set the phone back down and head to the door. Before I open it, I work my features into a politely neutral expression, rather than the disdain I feel whenever I have to think of anyone or anything associated with Justin.
“Angel,” she says once I open the door. She flashes me a quick smile as she thrusts the poinsettia towards me. “Happy holidays.”
I take the plant and shift it to one arm. “Hi. Um.”
“Sharon.” Her gaze skims over me. “Henderson. Justin’s mother.”
“I know.” My pulse skitters. “I met you once. In college.”
“I remember,” she replies. “I was always sorry things didn’t work out between you and Justin. But—” She shakes her head. “He wasn’t terribly mature back then. As I’m sure you know.”
“Well.” I’m not sure what to say. Yes, I know exactly how immature he was, since he ditched me and my unborn child?
“He told me about Haley,” Sharon says. She looks over my shoulder and into the room. “Is she here?”
“No.” It’s quick. Instinctive. And I’m glad it’s true. “She’s with a friend.”
“Oh. Okay.” Her smile dips briefly. “Well, I suppose that’s probably better, anyway. But I was wondering if we could talk?”
“I have to leave for work soon,” I tell her. “So I don’t really have much time.”
“Just for a minute. Please. I’m not trying to cause any trouble. Just a minute or two?”
Tell her to come back later, half of my brain says. Or better yet, tell her to call the lawyer.
But, my heart argues, she brought flowers. She just wants to talk.
“I don’t know,” I hedge. “I really do have to leave for work soon. Maybe another time…”
“Please.” As the sun hits her face, it picks up deep wrinkles that drag at her mouth and eyes. Her hair is thin and faded. She looks tired. Sad.
Sympathy plucks at me. “Okay. Just for a minute.”