I take a deep breath, staring at the piñata because it’s easier than looking at their knowing faces.
“I don’t know. I mean, it was good.Reallygood. Better than I expected. But now I’m scared it was a one-time, post-repression explosion and I’ve opened a door I don’t know how to close.”
“You don’thaveto close it,” Marin says gently. “It doesn’t have to mean anything right away.”
“But that’s the thing.” My fingers pick at the edge of the couch cushion. “What if it does? What if it already means something and I’ve completely upended my brain and my grief and my kids’ image of their father’s best friend because I couldn’t stopmyself from falling into bed with a man who’s been orbiting our lives for two decades?”
They’re both quiet for a moment. “You didn’t fall into bed with him,” Viv whispers. “Youchoseto. That’s different.”
“And you haven’t uprooted my entire image of Noah, Mom. You’re a woman with needs, and Noah’s a great guy.” Harper’s thoughtful response shocks me. How did I raise such a good one?
“Yeah,” Marin adds. “And maybe the world didn’t explode because of it. Maybe it’s the next thing.”
I nod slowly, biting the inside of my cheek. “It’s complicated. Noah was always Owen’s. His best friend. His shadow. His right hand. And then he was both of ours. And now I’m seeing him in this whole new light, and it feels like betrayal and safety all at once.”
Viv nudges me with her foot. “That’s grief, babe. It rewrites all the rules.”
We clink glasses, Marin with her honesty, Harper with her thoughtfulness, Viv with her progress, and me, clinging to the edges of this strange, healing mess.
Mid-sip, I hear the front door swinging open and the telltale sound of heavy footsteps pounding into my front entryway. “Mom?”
I know that voice. That voice has yelled “MOOOOM” across more gymnasiums and soccer fields and fast food drive-thrus than I can count.
“Matt!” I dart up, glass abandoned, and race for the door like the house is on fire.
There he is—six-foot-four of pure athlete, with a duffel slung over his shoulder and a smirk that hasn’t changed since kindergarten. He catches me mid-run and lifts me off the ground in a hug that makes me forget every ache in my joints.
“You didn’t warn me you turned into a full-blown adult,” I exhale into his sweatshirt.
“You didn’t warn me you turned the house into a party store.” He leans back, grinning.
He sets me down and gestures behind him. “Mom, this is my teammate Jalen. We flew in together. He didn’t have plans this weekend, and I figured he could use some chaos.”
Jalen steps into the house, the same tall, athletic build as Matt. Stretching out his hand, he nods. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Lawson.”
Before I can reply, Viv steps forward, previous emotional healing apparently forgotten.
“Well,hellooo,Jalen.” She extends her hand. “I’m Viv. Widow. Former dancer. Frequent flirt.”
Jalen takes her hand and flushes crimson. “Um. Nice to meet you?”
“God help you,” Marin mutters behind her mug of tea.
“Don’t mind her.” I try to ease the discomfort and shoot Viv a look. “She gets friskier around other people’s adult children.”
Matt groans. “Mom, can wenot?”
“Just a little hazing,” Viv says sweetly. “You want to be part of the Lawson family vortex, you need to survive innuendo and small batches of kombucha.”
Jalen glances around the room, at the balloon arch, the piñata, the streamers, the glitter, and does what I can only assume is a mental risk assessment while he runs his hand through his dark hair. “It’s a really nice house.”
“Thanks.” I nod toward the kitchen. “It was nicer before glitter happened. But we’re celebrating my late husband’s fiftieth tomorrow.”
“Yeah. Matt told me.” Jalen’s voice is instantly serious, his brown eyes knitting together. “I’m sorry.”
I wave it off. “Don’t be. He’d have loved this circus. Especially the karaoke machine.”
Matt slings an arm around my shoulders. “I told him there’d be pulled pork and old people dancing. He still came.”
