Welcome Home
Desiree
“Mommy, do you think Daddy decorated the big tree yet? The one that touches the ceiling?” Bella bounces in her booster seat, sending her twist-outs flying. “Remember last year he sent pictures, and it had a fairy on top that looked just like me?”
Don’t start picturing him, Dez. Smile. Breathe. Drive.
I grip the steering wheel tighter, navigating another curve on this godforsaken Winter Bay road. The rental car’s heater is blasting, but I still feel cold.
I hate roads I don’t know. I hate plans I didn’t make. Most of all, I hate that Ms. Okeke’s in the hospital with a broken hip, leaving me no choice but to drive my daughter to her father myself.
Our whole routine changed when Bella started kindergarten this fall. Before that, we split her time equally—one month with him in Winter Bay, one month with me in Atlanta, back and forth all year.
Ms. Okeke would fly with her, handling every transition so we never had to see each other. Now Enrick’s the one who flies to Atlanta every other weekend, renting a house I’ve never seen for their visits.
This is my first time being in Winter Bay, and after five years of avoiding him, I’m about to come face to face with Enrick Hughes.
“I’m sure he has, baby.” My voice comes out calmer than I feel. “You know your daddy loves Christmas.”
What I don’t say: Your daddy loves everything except complications. And your mama is the biggest complication he never wanted.
One night was all it took to change my life forever. Under flashing lights and pulsing music, a gorgeous man with piercing blue eyes bought me a drink. He made me laugh, made me feel attractive—and before I knew it, we were back at his hotel.
For five weeks after that night, we texted constantly. Talked on the phone until 2 AM about everything and nothing. Made plans for him to fly down to Atlanta again and for me to visit him in Winter Bay. Then everything came crashing down when I told him I was pregnant.
The GPS announces we’re two miles from our destination, and my stomach flips. The last time I felt this nervous driving somewhere I didn’t know, I was heading to a club in Atlanta, determined to prove I could have fun by myself. Look how that turned out.
My phone buzzes in the cupholder. Cassidy’s name flashes with a text.
Just got to the CPS office. Should be done in less than five minutes.
It was enough time to tell the social worker she wouldn’t be accepting responsibility for the child her ex had with her sisterwhile they were still together. At least I’m not the only one dealing with complicated family matters today.
“Are we almost there?” Bella asks, kicking her light-up boots against the seat.
“Almost, B.”
Everything about this trip feels wrong: flying from Atlanta to Winter Bay three days before Christmas, delivering my daughter like some kind of courier service, and cutting my vacation short just to fit into his schedule.
Cassidy and I planned this layover in Winter Bay specifically to tackle our respective obligations before we could escape to Jamaica. We need five days free from any thought of Winter Bay, its betrayals, and the complications caused by babies.
Jamaica couldn’t come fast enough.
“Mommy, you’re making that face again.”
“What face?” I glance in the rearview mirror at my observant five-year-old.
“The one where your eyebrows get all scrunchy. Like when you found my slime in the washing machine.”
Despite everything, I laugh. “Nobody’s face should be happy about slime in the washing machine, B.”
“There it is! Uncle house!” Bella shrieks, and I nearly swerve off the road.
Jesus, Mary, and Beyoncé. When Bella said her uncle’s house was a castle, I pictured... I don’t know, something normal? Not this architectural wet dream sprawling across pristine white grounds, lit up like the North Pole’s corporate headquarters.
Every line of the house screams money and taste with floor-to-ceiling windows glowing warm against the snow. My battered Olympus Nyx back in Atlanta would feel like a hooptie in this driveway.
“I told you Uncle lived in a castle, Mommy,” Bella breathes, and I realize I’ve stopped the car in the middle of the circular drive, just... staring.
