Chapter 14 #2
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” She shrugs and smiles.
We both sink into the backyard chairs, enjoying the late summer sun, the stillness between conversations.
Then my phone rings, screen lighting up between us.
Miles?
I stiffen.
Mindy clocks it immediately. “Oh?”
“It’s nothing,” I say, reaching to silence it—but she’s faster. She snatches it up with a smirk, all mischief and no mercy.
“Mindy!”
“Relax,” she sings, already answering. “Hi, Cowboy… Nope, this is Mindy. Vivian’s busy with Riley but I can give her a message.” She smirks at me while I give her dead eyes.
I’m going to kill her.
I make a grab for the phone, but she leans away casually like this is all a game, so she sticks her tongue out as I fail.
“Uh-huh. Yeah? Sounds fun.” She glances at me with raised brows. “Eight o’clock? Sure, I’ll let her know.”
She ends the call and holds out the phone in front of me. “Be ready for eight o’clock, he’s picking you up.”
I stare at her with my mouth open because she did not just agree for me to go on a date with him.
“Mindy! What the hell?” I yell, spinning toward her with wide eyes and a heart that immediately starts sprinting.
“That’s a rude word, Mommy!” Riley calls from across the yard, licking melted popsicle off her fingers like she hasn’t just scolded me in front of my best friend.
“Yeah, rude, Vivian,” Mindy echoes, biting into her own popsicle with a smug grin.
I shoot her a death glare, arms crossing over my chest. She knows I’m not ready for this. Not for casual drinks. Not for him.
“I don’t even know if I remember how to flirt or have a conversation for that matter,” I mutter under my breath.
She gives me a shrug like it’s no big deal. “Look, it doesn’t have to be a date. Just two friends grabbing a beer.”
I arch a brow. “Fine.”
“Perfe—”
“Ah-ah,” I cut her off, one hand lifted. “That means you and Greg need to come too. Since, you know, it’s just friends grabbing a beer.”
Mindy doesn’t even blink. “No problem.”
And then she smiles.
That smile. The one that says she’s ten steps ahead of me and already playing her next move.
Shit.
Oh no.
It hits me like a brick. “Wait.”
She hums innocently.
“My dad’s sick.” I blink at her. “You know my dad’s sick.”
She shrugs, all faux innocence. “Looks like it’ll just be you two then since I need to babysit now.”
“You bitch.” I press a hand to my forehead, already spiraling. “I should just call and cancel. Tell him the truth, that I need to be with Riley tonight. He’ll understand. Right?”
“You’re not backing out.”
I groan, dropping onto the nearest stool. “Min…”
She softens then. Just a little. Her grin fades into something gentler, warmer.
“Hey,” she says, nudging my arm. “It’s just a drink, Viv. No pressure, no expectations.”
I stare at the floor, toeing a scuff mark in the glass like it holds the answer. “But what if I don’t know what to say? What if I get there and I can’t do it?”
Mindy tilts her head. “You won’t. You’re not the woman who freezes.
You’re the woman who’s survived and still shows up for everyone around her, every single day.
You’re raising the brightest little girl I know, holding a job, holding yourself together even when you think you’re losing it, and doing it all with the weight of half the world on your shoulders. ”
I look at her, throat tight.
“And if there’s anyone who deserves to sit down and have a beer with someone who’s actually shown he cares, even a little, it’s you.”
I exhale, slow. My pulse is still racing, but her words chip away at the anxiety.
“It’s not a date,” I murmur, more to myself than her.
“Exactly. Just a friend,” she says, smirking. “A hot, broad-shouldered, bull-riding friend who looks at you like you’re the last shot of whiskey at a dive bar.”
I give her a look. “Helpful.”
She shrugs. “Just keeping it real.”
And despite the nerves still dancing around in my chest, I can’t help the little smile that tugs at my lips.
“Okay,” I say. “I’ll go.”
Mindy grins. “That’s my girl.” She looks over to Riley. “Hey, Riri, looks like you’re with me tonight!”
Riley bolts over, skipping. “Really? Yay, sleepover with Auntie Minnie! Want to do makeovers and build a fort tonight?”
Mindy crouches and grins at her like she’s her favorite human on Earth, which she probably is. “Absolutely, sweet pea. Just don’t tell your mom when we eat popcorn for dinner, okay?”
“But, Mommy…” Riley looks up at me with curious eyes. “Where are you going?”
I hesitate, then kneel to her level. “I’m just going to see a friend tonight. Is that okay?”
Her eyes light up. “Is it the cowboy that rides the crazy bulls?”
I laugh. “Yes, honey. That one.”
She smiles and looks down at the grass. “He’s nice.”
Mindy winks. “Very nice.”
I raise a brow at her, but before I can say anything, I catch sight of Riley’s arms—sticky with melted popsicle and rainbow stains up to her elbows.
“Oh, Riley.” I sigh. “You know what I think?”
“What?” she looks up and blinks, mid-sugar-high.
“I think Auntie Minnie needs a big hug right now.”
Mindy’s eyes go wide. “No—Viv, don’t—”
But it’s too late.
Riley launches herself into Mindy’s arms, pressing her gooey, syrup-covered limbs against her white tank top like it’s her new canvas.
Mindy lets out a strangled sound. “Thank you, sweetie, your mom is so nice.”
I toss her a wink and laugh. “Actually, I’m very nice.”
* * *
“I can’t do this,” I mumble for the third time as I pace the length of my bedroom, wrapped in nothing but a towel and full-blown panic. My hair’s dripping onto the floor and the clock’s ticking way too fast for my liking.
Across the room, Mindy is lounging on the bed, eating popcorn straight out of the bowl like this is some kind of Netflix special. Riley’s curled up beside her, equally entertained, two spectators watching the show that is my mental breakdown.
“Mommy, don’t be silly,” Riley pipes up, her voice soft and sweet. “He’s your friend!”
I pause mid-step, my stomach twisting. Because, sure, technically, she’s not wrong but we all know this isn’t just some casual hangout. There’s something there. Something I’ve tried to push aside. Something she’s too young to understand.
“I know, baby,” I say, forcing a smile. “He is a friend. But Mommy’s just a little nervous because—”
“Because he’s handsome?” Riley blurts out.
My jaw drops. I freeze. Literally mid-breath.
Mindy doesn’t miss a beat, she lifts her palm, and Riley slaps it with a proud high-five like they just cracked some secret code.
“Oh my god,” I groan out, dragging a hand over my face. “Would you two just stop already?” I wave them off.
I go back to pacing, hoping if I move enough, the nerves will shake themselves loose. They don’t.
Mindy hops off the bed and steps in front of me, hands on my shoulders.
“Viv. Breathe. You’re going to be just fine,” she says gently, and for once there’s no sass behind her voice. Just support.
I nod, but it’s half-hearted.
Because it’s not just nerves, it’s guilt and confusion and grief that sneaks up when I least expect it.
This isn’t like hanging out with Greg. This is different. There’s a pull with Miles that I feel in my chest, and I’ve been pretending not to notice it for weeks.
And yes, we had a drink at the bar a few weeks back, but that was different. I had messy hair, stained clothes, a bar to clean, and quite honestly, I must have looked a mess but he didn’t care.
I sigh and drop onto the bed, the towel bunching awkwardly around my thighs. Mindy sits by my legs, while Riley stands on the mattress, peering down at me with wide, curious eyes.
“Mommy…why are you so scared?” she asks, voice soft, like she’s scared of the answer too.
I sit up slowly, brushing damp hair behind my ear, and look down at my hands. My fingers twist around each other, and I have to swallow twice before I can find my voice.
“I think…” I pause, exhaling. “I think it’s because I don’t want to hurt Daddy. Even though he’s not here anymore.”
Riley tilts her head, processing my words in that quiet, thoughtful way only she can.
“I love Daddy so much,” I whisper, still focused on my hands. “And sometimes, when I think about spending time with someone else, even just as friends, it makes me feel like I’m doing something wrong. Like I’m forgetting him.”
Riley climbs into my lap and lays her little hand on my heart. “You’re not forgetting him, Mommy. You tell me stories about him all the time.”
I smile, blinking fast against the sting in my eyes. “I do, don’t I?”
She nods. “And you said he’s in heaven, right?”
“Yeah, baby. He is.”
She leans in like she’s about to tell me a secret. “Then he sees everything…and I think he wants you to smile more.”
My breath catches.
Mindy presses a hand to her chest and mutters, “Damn, kid. Who raised you?”
She looks up at me, those soft eyes with hints of green in them. A hint of Trevor’s eyes, shining with a kind of understanding no five-year-old should have. “I miss Daddy too,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “But it’s okay. He’s an angel now.”
My breath catches as a single tear slips down my cheek. I reach up to wipe it away before she sees it, but it’s too late. Her small hand finds mine and squeezes.
“We all miss him very much,” I manage, my voice thick with emotion.
She wraps her arms around me, and I hold her tightly, like she’s the only thing keeping me upright.
After a moment, she leans back, that gap-toothed grin breaking through like sunshine after rain.
“You feel better now, right?”
I press a kiss to her curls and pull her close again, breathing her in. She’s five. Five, and somehow wiser than I’ve been in a year.
I kiss the top of her head, letting the sweet scent of her strawberry shampoo calm the last frayed edges of my nerve.
The fact that my five-year-old managed to get through to me when I’ve spent the last year building walls no one could climb…says everything.
“Yeah,” I whisper against her hair. “I do.”
Mindy tosses me a dress and coat. “All right, let’s go get you dressed. You’ve got a handsome cowboy waiting.”
I shoot her a look, but I can’t even argue so I laugh—we all do.
Because for the first time in a long time…part of me wants to go.