But somewhere along the way—perhaps in the quiet mornings watching the sun rise over Flathead Lake, or during long nights helping Matt care for orphaned puppies, or in the simple pleasure of being part of a community that valued her for exactly who she was—that burning had cooled.
“I think I’ve just gained some perspective,” Lynda said finally. “Your father’s choices were about him, not me. I can acknowledge that our marriage had good years, that we created a wonderful daughter together, without letting his betrayal define the rest of my life.”
Amy’s eyes widened slightly. “That’s... remarkably healthy, Mom. And not at all what you were saying a year ago.”
Lynda laughed, surprising herself with the lightness she felt. “I know. I’m as shocked as you are.”
“Does this change of heart have anything to do with a certain veterinarian in Montana?” Amy asked, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “The one who sends you puppy photos every day?”
Lynda blushed. It didn’t surprise her that Amy had noticed her checking her phone or the smile that appeared whenever Matt’s name flashed on the screen.
“Matt is part of it,” she admitted. “But not everything. It’s Sapphire Bay itself, the work at the shelter, the friends I’ve reconnected with. I’ve found something there that I didn’t even realize I was missing.”
Amy set aside the box she’d been organizing and sat beside Lynda on the couch. “You’re moving there permanently, aren’t you? That’s why we’re sorting through all this stuff.”
The direct question caught Lynda off guard, though it shouldn’t have. Her daughter had always been able to read her with uncomfortable accuracy.
“I am,” she confirmed, the first time she’d said the words aloud to anyone besides herself. “I’ve already spoken to Robert about buying the practice. We signed a contract yesterday, and he takes over ownership of the clinic in six weeks.”
Amy was quiet for a moment, processing what Lynda had said. “Wow. That’s... a big step, Mom.”
“It is,” Lynda agreed. “And there are a lot of things to work out. But the more I think about it, the more right it feels.”
“What would you do in Sapphire Bay? Start a new practice?”
Lynda shook her head. “Not a full practice, no. But I could set up a small clinic focused on wildlife rehabilitation and exotic animals. The shelter desperately needs someone with that expertise, and with the money from selling the practice plus my savings, I could create something that serves a real need in the community.”
“And live where?” Amy asked, practical as always.
“I haven’t figured that out yet,” Lynda admitted. “I’ve been staying with Kathleen, one of my childhood friends, but I’d want my own place eventually. There aren’t many homes for sale, so I’ll have to move fast if something comes on the market.”
Amy nodded, her expression thoughtful. “And Matt? How does he factor into all this?”
Lynda smiled softly. She’d been open and honest with her daughter about her relationship with Matt. She didn’t want Amy to be blindsided by the news that there was a special person in her mom’s life. “Matt’s a significant consideration, but he’s not the only reason. I wouldn’t uproot my entire life for a relationship that’s just beginning.”
“But you care about him,” Amy pressed gently.
“I do.” Lynda sighed. “More than I expected to, more than I thought I could after your father.” She reached for her phone, opened the photo Matt had sent that morning, and showed it to Amy. Star sat proudly on the examination table, her transformation from a frail newborn to a thriving young animal beautifully captured in the image. “He’s kind, Amy. Genuinely kind in a way that has nothing to do with what he might gain from it.”
“You deserve that,” Amy said softly. “After everything with Dad, you deserve someone who sees your worth.”
Lynda’s hand shook as she placed her phone on the coffee table. She was touched by the sincerity in her daughter’s voice. The divorce had complicated Amy’s relationship with her father. Her initial anger at his betrayal of her mother gave way to a cautious reestablishment of their father-daughter bond. She rarely spoke critically of Ray now. Instead, she chose to maintain a careful neutrality that sometimes made Lynda wonder what she honestly thought of her father’s actions.
“Thank you for saying that,” Lynda replied. “But what about you and the boys? If I move to Montana, I’ll be a flight away instead of a short drive. I’ll miss school plays and baseball games, impromptu Sunday dinners, and so much more.”
“We can visit, Mom,” Amy said with a hint of amusement. “And we have phones and video calls. Besides, Sapphire Bay sounds like exactly the kind of place Eddie and Dylan would love to visit—a lake, mountains, and wildlife. It’s probably a lot more exciting than coming to your house in the suburbs.”
“That’s true,” Lynda conceded, picturing her grandsons exploring Flathead Lake, perhaps even joining her and Matt on rescue calls when the animals weren’t dangerous. “Matt has grandchildren too—Lily and Ethan. They live in Missoula, about an hour from Sapphire Bay.”
“See? Built-in playmates for when we visit,” Amy said with a smile. She reached over to take her mother’s hand. “Mom, I want you to be happy. If Sapphire Bay, a new job, and Matt make you happy, then that’s where you should be.”
The simple, unconditional support brought unexpected tears to Lynda’s eyes. “Thank you for that. I was worried you’d think I was crazy.”
“I’d never think that, especially after what Dad put you through.” Amy squeezed Lynda’s hand. “You’re a strong, independent woman who showed me that it’s never too late to rebuild your life on your terms. Matt’s lucky to have found you.”
Lynda blinked back tears, deeply moved by her daughter’s words. “I just want to be sure I’m not making a rash decision. Moving to a small town and starting a new chapter at sixty-seven has a few risks.”
“Of course it does,” Amy agreed. “But so does staying here, living a life that doesn’t excite you anymore just because it’s familiar and safe.” She gestured around the living room. “Look at this house, Mom. It’s beautiful, comfortable, exactly what you needed after the divorce. But when’s the last time it truly felt like home?”
