“I’ve always been this grown up.” She gives a half-shrug. “You just finally noticed.”
We pull into Margo’s driveway a few minutes later, and April is out of her seat belt and ready to open the car door almost before I’ve put it in park.
One hundred percent a kid again.
“Aunt Margo!” She’s already racing toward the front door where my sister is waiting with open arms.
“There’s my favorite niece!” Margo catches her in a big hug, laughing as April nearly knocks her off balance. “Ready for the best weekend ever?”
“So ready! Can we start with the pizza dough?”
“Absolutely. Go get washed up and we’ll get started.”
April gives me a quick wave over her shoulder and calls, “Bye, Mom!” Then she disappears into the house without a backward glance.
I grab her overnight bag from the trunk and walk up the driveway, trying not to feel too abandoned by how quickly she ditched me.
“She’s just excited.” Margo gives me a knowing smile as she takes the bag from me. “Don’t take it personally.”
“I’m not.” My voice is probably pitched a little too high to be fully believable, but I’m legitimately trying not to take it personally, so that should count for something. “I’m happy she’s happy.” I follow her onto the front porch but don’t go inside. “Thanks again for doing this. I know you’ve got your hands full with the baby coming and?—”
“Heather, stop.” Margo sets the bag down and turns to face me. “Are you okay? You’ve seemed off lately. There was that work emergency the other day, and now you just seem so distracted and stressed. I’m worried about you.”
“I know, and I appreciate that. But it’s just work. You know how it goes.”
“What about that event you were planning? Did everything go okay with that?”
“It did.” I nod. “It went well—too well, actually. They were so impressed that now they want me to plan something even bigger. Which is great.” I lean against the porch railing and give a version of the pep talk I’ve been reciting in my head since I heard the news. “It’s a huge opportunity and I should be excited about it.”
Definitely not the most convincing pep talk I’ve ever given, and Margo sees right through it.
“But?”
I sigh. “But it’s a lot of pressure. And a lot of responsibility. And I’m already stretched pretty thin as it is.”
It’s all true. Work has been stressful. The new event is a bigger deal than anything I’ve handled before, and the stakes feel impossibly high. But that’s not what has been keeping me up at night. That’s not why I’ve been distracted and jumpy and unable to focus on anything for more than five minutes at a time.
That would be Grant.
And the way he looked at me in that hallway. And again at The Hideout, when he told that guy to leave and then said I deserved better than someone who only saw me as a mess.
“You need to take care of yourself,” Margo says, pulling me out of my thoughts. “Which is why I called my masseuse at the spa downtown. You remember Kristina, right? She was the one who took care of us when we went there for your birthday. Anyway, she said she’d squeeze you in tonight no matter what, even though they’re usually booked solid on Fridays. I told her you were in desperate need of some pampering.”
“You’re not wrong, but you didn’t have to do that.”
“I know I didn’t have to. I wanted to. You’ve been working yourself to death, and you deserve a night to relax and not worry about anything. Please tell me you’ll at least consider it?”
It’s a blessing and a curse that my little sister can read me like a book. Because yes, the offer is tempting. A massage sounds amazing, and the spa is one of those beautiful, upscale places with fluffy robes and cucumber water and ambient music that’s supposed to help you achieve inner peace or whatever.
But the thought of going there by myself and sitting in that quiet, meditative space with nothing to do but be alone with my thoughts sounds more stressful than relaxing right now.
“I’ll think about it,” is the best I can offer. “Thank you for calling ahead for me, anyway. And for taking April tonight. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
And I will consider it. I just can’t promise the spa will win a matchup against April’s suggestion of a non-PG-rated movie and takeout in bed.
“You’re welcome.” She pulls me into a tight hug. “Wherever you go, promise me you’ll do something nice for yourself tonight. If not the spa, then at least order fancy takeout. Watch trashy reality TV. Do whatever makes you happy.”
“I will. I promise.” I still have no idea what I’ll actually do with a whole evening to myself, but I give her one more quick hug before letting go. “Tell April I love her and please call me if she needs anything.”
