Chapter 28 Elyse
ELYSE
That evening, Holly came home from her shift at the bakery carrying a box of day-old pastries, her face flushed with excitement.
"Jenna showed me how to make macarons today!" she announced, setting the box on the kitchen counter. "They're super finicky, but we got a few batches that turned out really well."
"That's fantastic," I said, peeking into the box. "Save any for us?"
"Of course," Holly said, pulling out a smaller box from her backpack. "The pink ones are raspberry, the green are pistachio, and the yellow are lemon."
Drew walked in, fresh from a shower after his golf game. "Did I hear something about macarons?"
Holly beamed. "Made them myself. Well, with Jenna's help."
Drew tousled her hair. "Look at you, becoming a master baker. Soon you'll be giving Jenna a run for her money."
"Hardly," Holly laughed. "But she did say I have potential."
As Holly arranged the macarons on a plate, she glanced at her phone, and her expression changed—just for a moment, but long enough for me to notice.
"Everything okay?" I asked casually.
Holly nodded a little too quickly. "Yeah, fine. Just a text from Grandma. She wants to FaceTime later."
But as she turned away to grab napkins, I caught a glimpse of her screen. It wasn't my mother's name I saw at the top.
It was my sister's.
My stomach dropped. Rachel was reaching out to Holly directly? After months of silence?
I caught Drew's eye, and I could tell he'd seen it too. He gave me a subtle nod that said, We'll talk about this later.
For now, we focused on enjoying Holly's baking triumph, exclaiming over the perfect shells and smooth fillings of her macarons. But my mind was racing.
What did Rachel want? Was she finally getting clean? Or was this just another false start, another disappointment waiting to happen?
More importantly, what would this mean for our adoption plans?
Later that night, after Holly had gone to bed, Drew and I sat on the back patio, speaking in hushed tones.
"We need to talk to her about it," Drew said. "She shouldn't be keeping secrets from us, especially not about Rachel."
"I know," I agreed, "but we need to be careful. If we come at her too aggressively, she'll just shut down."
Drew nodded. "You're right. But the longer we wait, the more complicated this could get."
I leaned back in my chair, looking up at the stars. "Do you think Rachel's trying to get her back?"
Drew was quiet for a moment. "I don't know. But whatever happens, we'll face it together. All three of us."
I reached for his hand, feeling grounded by his touch. After everything—my detective escapades, the confrontation in the parking lot, the emotional roller coaster of the adoption process—Drew was still my rock. My constant.
"We will," I said, squeezing his hand. "Together."
As we sat there under the Florida night sky, I thought about all the beach reads I'd been arranging at the store. Their bright, glossy covers promising sun-drenched romance and carefree adventures. Life wasn't like that. It was messier, more complicated, with no guarantee of a happy ending.
But sitting there with Drew, knowing Holly was safe in her bed just inside, I realized I didn't need the perfectly plotted storyline of a beach read. I had something better.
I had real life, with all its uncertainties, and it was becoming about as imperfectly perfect as it could be.