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 theparking 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.
ELYSE
I found Holly in the backyard the next morning, sitting cross-legged on one of the lounge chairs with Eden curled up beside her. She was staring at her phone, her brow furrowed in concentration. As I approached, she quickly locked the screen and set it face-down on her lap.
"Morning," I said, trying to keep my voice casual. "Sleep okay?"
Holly nodded, absently scratching behind Eden's ears. "Yeah, fine."
I sat on the edge of the adjacent lounge chair. "Uncle Drew's making pancakes. Your favorite, blueberry with that vanilla bean whipped cream."
"Cool," she said, but her enthusiasm seemed forced.
I took a deep breath. Drew and I had stayed up half the night discussing how to approach this conversation. We'd agreed that directness with kindness was the best approach.
"Holly," I began gently, "we noticed last night that your mom texted you."
Her shoulders tensed immediately. "You were spying on my phone?"
"No, sweetie. I just happened to see the name at the top of the screen when you checked it." I kept my voice even, non-accusatory. "We're not upset. We just want to make sure you're okay."
Holly looked down at Eden, avoiding my eyes. "It's no big deal. She texted a few days ago. I was planning on telling you, but it was only the once. I keep checking to see if she's replied."
Drew appeared in the doorway, wiping his hands on a dish towel. He caught my eye briefly before stepping out to join us, taking a seat at the foot of Holly's lounge chair.
"Pancakes are almost ready," he said, then added carefully, "Holly, your aunt and I aren't trying to invade your privacy. But we care about you, and we know your mom's... situation... can be complicated."
Holly picked at a loose thread on her shorts. "She says she's doing better. She found a place to stay nearby. She wants to see me."
My heart sank, but I kept my expression neutral. "That's... interesting. Did she mention where she's staying? Or if she's in a program?"
