48. Wren
“Wren, I’m ready to head out,” Daniel called from his office, the sound of his keys jingling as he made his way down the hall. “You finished?”
“Just about,” I said, furiously typing the final lines of the email I had been working on and hitting send. “There. All done. Hopefully that will tide Mr. Jacobson over until Monday. The man is relentless with his revisions.”
“That’s why I’m so glad to have you,” Daniel laughed, leaning against the reception desk while I shut down the computer and made sure the phones were switched to our away message. “Because I just do not have the patience to deal with people like him.”
“The man is a special case, that’s for sure.” Gathering my things, I slipped on my jacket and met Daniel at the door. “What kind of person changes their will that often?”
“The kind that wants to make sure everyone in his family stays on their toes.” Daniel punched in the alarm code, then we both scuttled out the door and on to the sidewalk. I waited while he locked the door, then walked with him to the far side of the parking lot where we parked our cars. “It’s a good way to find out if someone is only spending time with you for your money.”
“That makes me glad I don’t have any money,” I argued. “No one will be getting anything from me when I die, so anyone who spends time with me does it for the sheer joy of being in my company.” I added an eye roll for good measure, but Daniel knew me well enough by now to know my sense of humor bordered on the dark. It was one of the reasons we worked so well together; he just got me.
“I certainly value your company,” Daniel teased, his shoulder brushing mine as we walked. “Surely, you know that by now.”
“I appreciate it. And you’re not half bad yourself.”
We stopped walking, having reached the spot where my ancient brown sedan was parked. It looked ridiculous next to Daniel’s brand-new SUV, but that sort of thing had stopped bothering me years ago. Now, I was just grateful for the fact that the damn thing started every day. Anything more than that was unnecessary.
“Well,” I said, putting my bag into the back seat and then opening the driver’s door. “Have a great weekend. I’ll make sure the documents for the Langdon property are all ready for Monday.”
“Wren,” Daniel said, shaking his head. “You do know what a weekend is, don’t you? It’s a time to relax and unwind, not get ahead for the next week.”
“Yeah, that’s nice in theory, but I can’t get behind, or else I’ll be buried in paperwork by Wednesday afternoon.”
“Come out with me tonight,” he said suddenly, and my stomach sank. “Let me take you to dinner. We can have a drink, stay out late. What do you say?”
What did I say? I said that there was a mountain of laundry waiting at home for me, which I planned on folding while I watched serial killer documentaries and drank a glass of wine.
“Thanks, Daniel,” I said with a tired smile, trying to make sure he got the message, but at the same time, didn’t actually feel rejected. “But I really do need to get home. Cooper is waiting for me, and I promised her I’d pick her up after practice.”
“Well, maybe some other time, then?” he pressed, and I bit back a wince.
Because I didn’t want there to be another time. I wanted to keep our lovely working relationship exactly as it was, with casual office banter and camaraderie. Not...whatever this was turning into.
Because I couldn’t afford to lose this job, and there was no way I was going to jeopardize my employment for dinner and a boring lay. I was smarter than that.
At least, now I was.
“Maybe,” I said noncommittally, hoping it would be the end of it.
“Alright,” he relented, but after working so closely with the man for the last five years, I could tell he was slightly annoyed with me. “I’ll let you have a rain check, but one of these days, you will have dinner with me, Wren.”
I only smiled and climbed into my car, watching him watch me in the mirror as I drove away.
Under any other circumstances, I might have agreed to go to dinner with him. I couldn’t deny that Daniel was good looking; he had that posh, rich boy charm, the kind that came from years of attending fancy parties and dinners at the country club. Daniel was clean cut, well respected, and kind. I could do a whole lot worse.
But he was also the only lawyer in town, and I really fucking liked working as a paralegal. It had been a stroke of luck that I’d stumbled into the position, and I knew I’d never find anything else even close to as good in Grand Rapids. Which meant that I had to smile and nod and turn down what was probably my best prospect for a decent date, but I really had no choice.
Dating had been the last thing on my mind for a very long time.
Driving through downtown, I smiled as I watched the familiar streets go by, a thousand memories, good and bad, flashing through my mind. This town had been my home all my life, and though things looked wildly different than I’d ever anticipated, I couldn’t say it was all bad.
Not when I had my girl.
It was nearing dusk when I pulled up to the high school, the setting sun shining off the small lake that was tucked in behind the school. Flashing my lights at the pack of teenaged girls standing in a huddle out front, Cooper and her friend Jillian standing off to the side of the rest of the kids, just far enough away to be noticeable. I smiled as Cooper rolled her eyes at me, waving goodbye to Jillian and getting in the car.
“Do you have to be so completely cringe?” she asked dramatically, and I laughed.
“I mean, I work hard at it, so I would like to think you wouldn’t mind me showcasing my talents. How am I supposed to win Cringiest Mother of the Year again if I don’t practice?”
“That’s probably actually a thing,” she droned, her fingers flying over her phone even as she continued giving me grief. “And if it is a thing, you’d probably win it.”
“Just be glad the only thing I flashed was my lights,” I added, at which point she physically recoiled in her chair.
“Oh my God, you wouldn’t!”
“Keep giving me attitude,” I laughed manically, following the tree-lined streets back to our house. “See what happens.”
“I’m sure whatever is happening right now would be considered illegal in all fifty states,” Cooper replied, trying her hardest to conceal her smile. I could tell she was trying not to laugh by the tone of her voice. She’d gotten all wobbly, her words practically vibrating as she attempted to pretend she wasn’t having a good time.
“And both territories,” I amended, and that finally broke her. She tipped her head back and laughed, her phone momentarily forgotten, which I considered a major win. “How was practice?”
“Ugh, fine, I guess.”
“Just fine? I thought you liked volleyball.”
“I do. It’s just that ever since the girls all voted Britney captain, I’ve been getting more time on the bench than on the court.”
Gritting my teeth, I tried not to let my teen daughter see just how much the mention of her classmate triggered me. I hated that word, but in this case, it was the absolute truth.
I was triggered by the mere mention of Britney McQueen.
“Well, I’m sure it will all work out. You’re the best player on the team, Coop. They have to use you where your talents are most valuable.”
“You’d think,” she huffed, clicking off her phone screen and looking out the door. “But my talents don’t mean a whole lot when Britney is hosting pool parties and her mother is buying new uniforms for the whole team.”
I wasn’t sure what I’d done wrong in a past life, but it was obvious that someone was punishing me. What other explanation could there be for the fact that Denise McQueen and I both had daughters in the exact same grade. It was cruel, is what it was. My childhood had been a series of torturous moments involving Denise and her friends, their relentless teasing and vicious words making up a highlight reel of my youth.
So how was it at all fair that on Cooper’s first day of kindergarten, Denise and Jason McQueen showed up, enrolling their own daughter in the exact same class.
Yeah, Jason Mason actually took Denise’s last name when they married, knowing that it would get him a lot farther in life than his own stupid name.
So now here we were, ten years later, and Britney was living up to her mother’s awful reputation in every way she could.
“Hey,” I said, trying really hard to put aside my own damage and offer my daughter some actual advice. “Just remember that the reason Britney has to buy her friends is because, at heart, she’s a really terrible person who is deeply unhappy with her own life. In the end, you’ll come out the other side of this better for the experience while she’ll forever be miserable.”
“You get that from a fortune cookie?”
“Actually, yes,” I laughed. God, she was so clever. Looking over at her, I couldn’t help the little pulse my heart gave as I stared at my kid, my freaking powerhouse of a daughter that I loved more than life itself.
She was an absolute joy, and I couldn’t have asked for a more amazing child.
We drove the rest of the way in silence, Cooper still tapping on her phone and me tapping along to the radio on the steering wheel, until we pulled into the parking space behind our house. I was gathering my things when she spoke again, stopping me in my tracks.
“Hey, Mom?” she said quietly, and I looked up. Sitting there, her dark hair tied back in a ponytail and her cheeks flushed from practice, she looked so much like her father it physically hurt. He’d been just as beautiful, his striking cheekbones and that dark hair giving him a Gothic look, like a timeless vampire prince.
Cooper had that same quality, her peaches and cream skin contrasting against the mahogany hair and striking blue eyes. She was beautiful, inside and out, but where she carried her father’s looks, she absolutely had my sass and snark, which I loved about her.
“Yeah, Coop?”
“Thanks.”
“For what?” I asked, honestly confused. All I’d done was drive her home, something I did every Friday night during volleyball season.
Cooper looked down at her hands, toying with the elastic edge of her kneepads awkwardly.
“Just, you know. For saying that about Britney. I want you to know, I don’t care about her money. Not really. I wouldn’t trade places with her. Ever. Having you for my mom is worth a million dollars. More, even. So...thanks.”
Pressing my lips together, I bit down on the inside of my cheek to keep from squealing like a moron. Having a teenager was tough; they were moody and temperamental, and their styles and tastes changed faster than the weather. Just when I thought I had a handle on what was cool, something new popped up and I was on my back foot again. But I tried, I tried so fucking hard to keep her happy, to give her everything I could and make sure she never wanted for anything, but especially not for love.
I told that child I loved her more times in a day than was probably normal, but I didn’t care. The day she was born, I vowed that there would never be a moment in her life where she questioned if she was wanted.
Because from the moment I knew of her existence, I had wanted her.
I had wanted her so bad, I burned down every other relationship in my life to keep her.
Because she was fucking worth it.
So by some miracle I managed to keep my cool, paste on my most casual smile, and simply say, “Thanks, kiddo. I wouldn’t trade you for anything either. Now, let’s go order a pizza.”