Thursday, September 5, 2019 #3
Neither of them had suggested that any of this was her fault, which surprised her.
She had assumed that in their worst moments—the dark hours when they were grieving the man they thought they knew—that one or both of them might have blamed her too.
If you weren’t so hard on him all the time, he wouldn’t have cheated.
You made him desperate. Shouldn’t you have known that would happen?
Aren’t you supposed to be a psychiatrist?
But that had never happened. Instead, they offered compassion, understanding, and a surprising amount of wisdom for people in their twenties.
They were each in touch with Ted via email but hadn’t gone to see him.
He was locked up in a prison in Zagreb, still awaiting trial.
His legal fees had made it so he had quickly signed off on selling their properties, each of which had been a symbol of a different dream she’d shared with Ted.
The Paris home was a romantic fantasy, Seattle was where they’d met and built an empire, and Kauai was their future.
So she’d sold them all, quickly divorced Ted, and they’d split what was left.
It had been enough for her to buy a home overlooking the Pacific on Whidbey Island.
The home was just outside a town called Oak Harbor—a charming place where people minded their own business, and if they did know about her past, had the decency not to mention it.
She had been offered book deals and guest spots on talk shows, but she’d declined them all.
That part of her life was over now. The famous part.
She and Enid had parted ways, but Enid called her every month to ‘stop her from getting bored.’ They chatted about world events and Enid would share stories about her other clients without using names, of course.
That would be a breach of confidentiality.
Antonia could always figure out who she was talking about though, based on the details.
Now, she would live quietly, with dignity and peace.
She sat on her covered porch in a cozy armchair, watching the gentle rain come down, soaking the green of her yard.
Inside, she had a pot of seafood chowder staying warm on the stove and biscuits in the oven.
Upstairs, Quinn, who had come to live with her, was busy working on her book.
She would come down when the biscuits were ready and they’d eat dinner and watch Succession together.
Antonia’s phone rang, and her heart pounded, like it did every time.
Her first thought was always, what if that’s Ted?
They’d had to speak several times over the past year, and it always left her feeling confused and angry and grief-ridden.
But she saw Xavier’s name and was able to shrug off those feelings in place of happier ones. “Hey you, how’s school?”
“It’s hard,” he said. “No wonder I avoided college all these years.”
Antonia chuckled. “I hate to say it, but it gets worse.”
“Seriously?”
“Wait ‘til midterms,” she told him.
“You’re supposed to make me feel better.”
“Here’s the better part: it’ll be hard, but you’re going to get through it. And there is nothing better in the world than knowing you did it.”
“Okay, that does help actually,” he said. “Are you and Quinn ready to kill each— Oh shit. Sorry.”
“Kill each other?” she asked lightly. “Don’t be sorry. We have to learn to laugh again. And no, we’re not at each other’s throats. She spends most of her time editing her book.”
“Huh, so she actually is writing a book? Who knew?”
“I did.” That was a lie. She had assumed that her daughter was just enjoying the good life in France on her parents’ dime.
“It’s a great book, too. She’s been letting me read it.
It’s like something I’ve never seen before—it’s a romance and a fantasy rolled into one.
And the world-building is incredible. I’m totally sucked in. ”
“You’re just saying that because she’s your child.”
“Nope. Seriously. It’s great. She doesn’t let me read the spicy parts, but when it comes out, I just might get myself a copy.”
Xavier burst out laughing, then said, “I don’t know what’s more gross—my sister writing smut or my mom wanting to read it.”
“Oh, come on, we’re all adults here. Besides, it’s not smut. It’s fiction.”
“Hmph,” he answered, not sounding at all sure about that. “All right, I better go. I have an econ test tomorrow morning.”
“Hop to it, little bunny,” she said with a grin.
“At some point, you should stop saying that to me.”
“But not today, right?”
“All right. Not today. Love you, Mom.”
“Love you too, little bunny.”
He groaned, then said goodbye and hung up. The timer on her phone went off for the biscuits. Antonia turned it off and stood, then made her way to the kitchen, but not before stopping at the bottom of the stairs. “Dinner!”
“Down in two minutes! Just finishing a chapter!”
Antonia cupped her mouth with her hand. “Print it and bring it down! I need to know if those fairies are finally going to do it!”
She chuckled to herself as she walked into the kitchen. This wasn’t the life she thought she would have. But maybe, in the end, this one was better than the one she had imagined for herself.