I let my eyes fall shut. I didn’t want Cami to get married yet, and I definitely didn’t want her quitting school to pay for it. The whole situation felt like watching a slow-motion train crash. I saw the prospects for her future shrinking without that degree and her currently wide-open life being funneled into a narrow tube, fastened tightly with a wedding band. And there wasn’t anything I could do to stop it.
So I swallowed my complaints, and I drank my coffee.
Another message arrived a moment later.
Cami: Bring Auntie Alicia!
I smiled. Luckily it was the weekend and her favorite auntie didn’t have school.
Me: I’ll call her now
Cami: TY! I love you, Mama!
Me: I love you too sweet girl
I forwarded the exchange to Alicia, then went back to work on my order. When the cookies finished baking, I showered and prepped myself for dress shopping. I decided to walk instead of driving to the shop. Heavens knew I needed the fresh air to clear my mind before facing my baby in a wedding gown.
I called the local DMV on my way and was instructed to contact the Department of Wildlife Resources regarding the boat. That seemed strange, but I did as I was told. Within minutes, a representative from the DWR confirmed the title I’d found was authentic. The twenty-three-foot-long sport boat, valued at thirty-four thousand dollars, was mine. Technically, only seventeen thousand of that was mine, but at the moment, any amount of money would change my life.
Alicia called as I stopped to lean against a brick building and absorb the information.
“Hello?”
“Where are you?” she asked. “I’m outside. You aren’t answering.”
It took a moment for her words to make sense. “You stopped at my house?”
“I wanted to pick you up. I didn’t think you’d have left yet.”
That was so nice, and she was right. I would still be at home if I hadn’t chosen walking over driving. “I’m on First Street,” I said, smiling at her gesture. “I’m getting in some steps. Plus I need to multitask.”
Alicia growled. “I’m trying to get a few extra minutes with you before your little girl expects you to be excited for her,” she said. “Stop moving. I’ll be there in like five minutes.”
I turned and walked back the way I came so I could see her approach, and continued our conversation. “I am excited for her,” I said. “I wish we all shared her blind optimism about love.”
“That’s what I’m talking about,” Alicia said. I could hear her turn signal ticking in the background. “You need to stop that. Even when you don’t say those kinds of words, your face does.”
“I said I was excited for her.”
“And you probably looked as if you sucked a lemon, because that’s how you look anytime anyone says anything about love or marriage. I saw you scowl at a billboard for an upcoming bridal fair last week, and your death glare at the radio whenever a ballad plays is terrifying. If you slip and steal her joy today, she’ll build a wall to protect herself from feeling that way again, and that’s exactly what you spent her whole life defending against.”
I stopped walking when Alicia’s Bronco appeared in the distance. “I really am working on it.” I’d recently decided late one night to accept the notion Camilla would find happiness as a wife. If I kept that mindset, I could also experience the associated joyful moments by her side. Share her good times. See her smiling and carefree. Then, when she realized her mistake, I’d be there as emotional support, a friend, and confidant, to help her through the fallout. A win for everyone. Except Jeff, because I couldn’t promise I wouldn’t poison him when he broke her heart.
Alicia pulled up to the curb, and I climbed into her ride. “Tell me about the multitasking,” she said.
I told her about my calls to the DMV and DWR. Then I backtracked to recount the details of my night. About how I’d basically broken intomy old home though the side door Robert refused to fix, riffled through his desk, found my primary suite redecorated as a man cave, then the title for a thirty-four-thousand-dollar boat, in my name, hidden with Robert’s porn and documentation of the money we absolutely still had. I died a little inside as I described my reckless means of escape and then finished with how Camilla and I had a great talk this morning. “We did more than just make up,” I explained. “We came to an acceptance and understanding. I think we’re going to be okay, and I’m not worried we’ll end up like my mom and me anymore. Camilla and I are stronger, healthier. Better.”
“Holy shit,” she said. “That’s a lot. Why didn’t you call me? Before you say it was late, or something equally ridiculous, this is the kind of news you wake up your best friend for.”
“I know.” And in the past, I would’ve called. For decades I reached out to Alicia when I felt too overwhelmed to sort my tangled thoughts without help. Lately, I enjoyed working through things on my own. “I feel as if I’m putting out little fires all the time. I barely get through one crisis and something else goes wrong. Oh.” Virginia’s post and all my new orders came to mind, and I brought up the clip on my phone.
“Oh?” she asked. “What oh?”
“This,” I said, pressing Play. “Just listen. Keep your eyes on the road so we make it to the dress shop.”
Alicia’s face contorted at the sound of Virginia’s voice. Her expression eased as the clip ended. “Okay,” she said. “That could’ve been much worse. So what’s the plan? You’re going to be overrun with business after this.”
“I’m closed to new orders now.” I explained the updates on my website. Then I unloaded my biggest news last—Lucas offering me a free trip to France. Specifically to the region where my mom met my biological dad. A man I hadn’t been able to locate from this side of the Atlantic.
