“And Eric doesn’t love you.” Her voice made it half a question.
I swallowed. “I thought he did.” I’d thought he could. The trees whispered in the darkness.“I have such a taste for you, Jo.”“When I was with him, I felt... accepted, I guess. Like he really saw me, liked me, warts and all. But he didn’t want me. That blog... It was his cooking, but that’s my writing. That’s me. He rejected me.”
We sat awhile longer. Clouds scudded across the moon, blurring its face. Meg handed me a tissue from her pocket, like a good mom.
“I’m not going to cry. I hate crying,” I said, and burst into tears. She sat beside me, petting my hair, the way our mother used to. “I’m sorry.”
“Have another tissue,” Meg said.
I loved her so much. I sniffled. “How about more wine?”
“Definitely wine. And cake,” Meg said, holding up Aunt Phee’s cake saver.
“Definitely cake.” I stood. “Let’s go eat our feelings.”
Meg smiled. “Spoken like a true March.”
We went inside. Maybe I wasn’t sure where I belonged anymore. But home was a good place to figure it out.
CHAPTER 18
Meg
There were roses, red ones, on the kitchen island when I got home. At least a dozen of them, still wrapped in cellophane from the grocery store. Not for Valentine’s Day or Mother’s Day, my birthday, or our anniversary. Thanks, an apology, a romantic gesture... The reason didn’t matter. John was trying. The effort was everything.
My eyes welled.
John must have heard the back door open, because he came in from the living room. I blinked, taking in details, the cuffs turned back on his wilted cotton shirt, his blond hair sticking up in front like DJ’s or Daisy’s after she’d cut her bangs.
“You’re home,” John said.Finally,he did not say.
I nodded, my fingers itching to smooth that errant cowlick. To touch him.
He stuffed his hands in his pockets. Took them out again, looking as awkward, as unsure, as I felt.
I shifted DJ in my arms. “How... How was the tournament?”
“Good.” After a pause, he offered, “We won.”
“That’sgreat,” I said.
“Thanks,” John said dryly. Okay, maybe I did sound a little like I was praising DJ for using the potty. He strolled toward me. “How was the farmers’ market?”
“Busy. Lots of people Christmas shopping.”Justtalkto him,Jo urged in my head. I cleared my throat. “I saw Lisa Roberts. Patrick and Jason’s mom?”
“Jason’s a good kid. Good wrestler. No pin, but he scored a couple takedowns. Won on points. He keeps it up, he could make Regionals.”
“His mom seemed really glad you were there with him. She actually thanked me.” Nobody ever came up and thanked me because my husband had arranged financing for their car.
“Sorry I couldn’t watch the kids today. I hope they were okay.”
“The kids were fine. Everything was fine. John, what I said about Lisa... I was proud of you.”
Faint color stained his cheeks. He shook his head, dismissing the compliment. “Did you see your buddy Carl today?”
“He stopped by.” I changed the subject. “And Sallie Moffat took the twins to the park.”
“Nice of her.”
