“I called to tell him about all the amazing venues we checked out by the river. Then he told me about filing for bankruptcy.”
“Oh, hon.” Guilt rolled over me when I realized I hadn’t told her. I tried not to speak of Robert in her presence, because I never had anything nice to say. But I should’ve thought about how his nonsense would impact her life, too, and I hadn’t. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you.”
“It’s okay,” she said. “That was his story to tell, and he never said a word. Not when we met you for dinner and announced our engagement. And not after he had time to think about it. So I’ve been planning this elaborate dream wedding, knowing Dad will want to make a spectacle and invite everyone he knows, so they can see what a great guy he is—” Her voice cracked, and she groaned.
“Go on,” I encouraged. “I’m just here to listen.” She certainly wouldn’t hear me telling anyone to speak kindly about Robert anytime soon.
“The worst part is how sad it makes me,” she said. “I realized how much I really want a big, romantic ceremony with all the sweet little details. Now I have to settle for good enough and pay for it with my salary as a college student and part-time yoga instructor.” She gave a humorless laugh. “It sucks.”
“I’m so sorry.” Wow. I was saying that a lot lately. I wished I didn’t have to, but every apology was more than necessary. Though this one, admittedly, wasn’t mine to give.
“Please don’t tell me to wait five years until I can afford the hoopla,” she said. “That’s not what I need right now.”
“I wasn’t going to say anything like that.” Though it was a solid option.
I wished we were together so I could hold her, but I was thankful we’d closed the emotional gap between us. I’d never say anything to push her away again. “I can’t help thinking that this is a little bit my fault too,” I admitted. “If I hadn’t filed for divorce, nothing would have changed.”
“Mom,” she chided. “That’s not true.”
I was almost certain it was true, but I let it go. The fact was that I did file for divorce, and Robert was claiming bankruptcy. Now Camilla wouldn’t get the wedding of her dreams, and I had to buy a bus pass.
“I love you,” she said.
“I love you too. Thanks for accepting my apology.”
“Always,” she said. “I have to go. Can we talk soon?”
“Of course,” I said. “I’m off work today. If you have time later, stop by and we’ll figure out the big wedding,” I promised. Though I had no idea how.
“You know,” she said. “If I take a year or two off from college, I can apply the tuition money to the wedding. Then I can get student loans after I’m married and finish school later, when I’m ready.”
My heart spasmed, and I covered my mouth with one hand, thankful she couldn’t see me. I wasn’t convinced Robert had left any money in her tuition account, but that was the smaller problem. She needed that degree to support herself one day. “Honey, I—”
“I know, Mom,” she said, cutting me off. “Let’s talk more soon.”
We disconnected, and I hung my head.
“Fuck.”
I made a cup of coffee. Then I sent photos of the paperwork from Robert’s hidey-hole to my forensic accountant and left a message with my attorney to discuss the findings. I wrestled with conflicting emotions as I prepped one of the cookie orders that had come in during the night. I was deeply thankful for the reconciliation with my daughter, and horrified at the possibility of her leaving school to fund the wedding. Being married without a degree to support herself, should things go south, was far worse than just getting married too young. But there wasn’t much I could do about any of it, and I didn’t want to risk overstepping again.
I turned my attention to things I could control and disabled the ordering function on my website. Then I posted two new graphics. A hot-pink-and-white banner thanked customers for their orders and advised all visitors that I’d reopen as soon as I’d had a chance to catch up. A second sign, in the shape of an orange-and-tan cupcake, announced a fall menu coming soon.
I was just starting a third round of order fulfillments when my phone buzzed again. I smiled when I saw it was Camilla. A peek at the clock told me I’d been working far longer than I’d realized.
Cami: Wedding dress shopping?
Cami: Last-minute appointment at Southern Charm!
I groaned. Shopping for gowns at Southern Charm was a tradition for local brides. The store worked with brides by appointment only, and getting in usually took several weeks. I understood Camilla’s enthusiasm, though I didn’t share it.
I’d always made a conscious effort to prioritize my daughter, so she never felt unimportant, but today I had a hard time accepting her last-minute request. Aside from receiving more online orders than I wanted to think about and finding the boat I apparently owned, I still needed to tell Lucas about my company and let him know I was all in for training in France, if he still wanted me. I didn’t know anything about plating food, but how could anyone pass up an offer like his?
I tapped my thumbs against the sides of my phone, debating briefly before doing what I had to do.
Me: Exciting! Count me in! Just say when
Cami: Two!
