“I’ve been meaning to do this for a while. And now seems as good a time as any.” Mama holds up her left hand, and then takes off her wedding band and engagement ring.
Celie, Molly, and I gasp.
We’ve never seen Mama without her bands. She wears them in the shower, to bed, to the beach. Everywhere Mama goes, those rings go with her. To Mama, the divorce was just a piece of paper, but the rings represented what was in her heart.
“I can’t very well fool myself anymore, can I?” She scoops up the rings and puts them into her purse.
She looks down at the papers and reaches for a pen. Hal once again points to the correct line, the line that needs a Cynthia Lennox McMann signature on it.
I can practically hear Celie holding her breath from here, not daring to come closer.
Then, all of a sudden, Mama signs. Just like that. She picks up the pen, and she puts it to the paper and she signs it. Once she actually does, it all happens so fast.
Thanks to Pru and his lawyer friend, Mama is now the sole owner of the house at 405 North Frances Street.
Celie cheers. Hal smiles as he wipes his brow with a handkerchief. Molly hugs Mama.
I whisper to Cam I’ll be right back, and then I excuse myself for the privacy of the restroom down the hall. Once I get there, I look into the mirror over the sink and stare at my reflection.
I’m wiping my eyes with a paper towel when Molly knocks on the door. “Vannah! We’re going to celebrate—you coming?”
“Be right there!” I call out.
I grab my purse off the counter and step out into the hallway.
Chapter Sixteen
We take Mama for a celebratory drink at the bar on Main Street.
Cam and Pru offer to drive everyone home, so Celie orders “the ladies” a round of whiskey shots. We take seats at the bar, and Cam and Pru start talking about hockey. Pru’s heard about our winning streak, and Cam invites him and Celie to a game.
“Ooh, that sounds like fun,” Celie says. “Let’s all go!”
When Cam excuses himself for the restroom, Celie turns to me. “Well, I know what I’m doing next week. Us three girls are going to watch ourselves a hockey game.”
“Why next week?” Molly says. “What’s that mea—” She gasps. “That’s the Caves game!”
Celie and I look at each other, and I nod, letting her know she can tell Molly.
“Daddy sent Vannah a text.”
“No!” Molly stares at me. “You look like you’re handling it well. Too well.”
“Right.” Celie reaches over and hugs me. “Which is why we’re going with her. In fact, let’s go to tomorrow’s game as practice.”
“You guys hate going to hockey games,” I protest.
“That was before,” Celie says. “Now we’ve got a hot guy to root for. Your about-to-be boyfriend.”
“He’s not my boyfriend and you know it,” I say.
“Cel, I love this idea,” Molly says. “We’ll sit in the stands and cheer Cam on. That’s very romantic, Vannah. Maybe he’ll dedicate one of his goals to you.”
I glance over at Mama. She’s chatting it up with a middle-aged man who looks like he’s been here a while already.
Celie surreptitiously beckons to the bartender. Not a minute later, the server drops a yellow-colored drink in front of Mama.
“Mama, don’t drink that,” Molly says immediately.
