Sandra wasn't sure how to respond to that level of self-awareness.
Patricia leaned forward slightly. "I love my children, but I'm not maternal. Never have been. I get restless during bedtime stories, impatient with homework that should take ten minutes but stretches to an hour. I can't fake interest in Pokémon cards or sit through pretend tea parties."
"That doesn't make you a bad mother," Sandra said quietly.
"Doesn't make me a particularly good one either." Patricia's voice held a trace of something Sandra couldn't quite identify. Regret, maybe. "I tried for years to be someone I wasn't. Made myself miserable, frustrated Terry, probably confused the kids."
Sandra studied the other woman's face, seeing shadows of old struggles. "What changed?"
"I stopped pretending I was something I'm not." Patricia's shrug was elegant as well as practical. "The kids need consistency, patience, someone who genuinely enjoys the small moments. That's Terry. And now, hopefully, that's also you."
"You really don't mind? Me being in their lives?"
"Mind?" Patricia's expression grew serious. "Sandra, I've watched my daughter light up when she talks about you. I've heard Toby accept you in a way he's never quite accepted me. They trust you."
The words hit Sandra harder than she'd expected. "I hope so."
"I know so." Patricia stood and smoothed her skirt. "Look, I'm excellent at assessing situations objectively. Terry's happierthan I've seen him in years. My children are thriving. You clearly adore them. Why would I fight that?"
"Some people would."
"Some people are idiots." Patricia's smile was wry. "I want Emma and Toby to have as much love and support as possible. If that comes from their father's girlfriend and possibly future wife, then I'm grateful."
Sandra rose as well, still processing the unexpected turn of the conversation. "Thank you for saying that. For coming here."
"Thank you for caring about them." Patricia extended her hand again. "I hope we can be friends, Sandra. Or at least friendly co-parents."
Sandra shook her hand, feeling a weight lift from her shoulders she hadn't realized she'd been carrying. "I'd like that very much."
Patricia gathered her purse and headed toward the door, then paused. "Oh, and Sandra? Save me a seat tonight. I'd like to sit with all of you."
"Of course."
After Patricia left, Sandra sank back into her chair, staring at the space where the other woman had been. She'd prepared for territorial hostility, not grateful acceptance. Patricia Williams was nothing like what she'd expected. She was more complex, more self-aware, and oddly, more generous than Sandra had imagined possible.
Her phone buzzed with a text from Terry.How are you feeling about tonight?
Sandra typed back.Much better now. Patricia just stopped by.
Her phone rang immediately.
"She what?" Terry's voice carried surprise and a hint of concern.
"It's fine. Better than fine, actually. She wanted to meet before tonight." Sandra paused. "Terry, she's not what I expected."
"How so?"
"She's... grateful. For me being in the kids' lives. Said I'm filling gaps she can't."
Terry was quiet for a moment. "That sounds like Patricia. She's always been honest about her limitations."
"Is that enough? For the kids?"
"Has to be," Terry said simply. "It's who she is. They're better off with her honesty than they would be with false promises."
Sandra understood that intellectually. But emotionally, she couldn't imagine choosing work over moments with Emma and Toby.
"See you tonight," Terry said. "And Sandra? Thank you. For whatever you said to make her feel comfortable about this."
