“You should do it, you know,” she said, offering a gentle tap on June’s arm.
“Do what?” Cadence whipped her head around, then squinted at the poster. “Ooh, June, yes, you should.”
June put down her sandwich to cover her face with her hands.
“Ugh, I don’t know,” she said. She peeked at her friend through her fingers. “Do you remember when we used to go to karaoke together, Cade?”
“I do!” Cadence beamed. “Ellie, you should have heard her. She was so good. Like, so,sogood.”
“We also did it as a sort of ‘moms night out,’ so Cadence might have had a drink or three that is coloring her recollection of my skill,” June pointed out pragmatically.
“Nice try,” Eleanor said. “I heard you sing in the diner. You’ll have to pull this modesty claptrap on someone else.”
Cadence looked extremely smug.
Not wishing to get embroiled in a losing battle, June sighed and went on.
“Well, Imighthave gotten started with this plan to take singing lessons,” she said. “I just… I had so much fun singing that I wanted to see where I could go with it, you know? I’d taken music classes as all my electives in college, and I was a total theater geek in high school, so it was kind of like building on that passion.”
“That makes sense,” Eleanor murmured encouragingly.
June gave a bittersweet sort of smile. “Yeah, but then we lost Keith and… well, everything that wasn’t Benjamin fell to the back burner.”
“That makes sense too,” Cadence added. “But June… it’s been two years. And I’m not telling you that your grief has to have a timeline. But in two years, you’ve comemiles. And Benjamin is a good kid, a happy kid. You did that. You both got dealt a really terrible hand, but you held your family together.”
June had to press her hands to her face again, but this time it was because she was starting to tear up.
“My point,” Cadence continued kindly, “is that it’s okay to take time for yourself, June.”
June sighed, then took a contemplative bite of her sandwich while she thought this over.
“I know that,” she said when she was done chewing. “I know it in my brain. But my heart doesn’t always want to get on board. It just feels so…”
“Selfish?” Eleanor offered.
“Impractical?” Cadence supplied.
“Well, yeah,” June agreed.
The other two women exchanged a look.
“Yeah,” Eleanor said airily, inspecting her nails. “I can’t imagine what that would feel like at all. As a mother, I neveroncefelt like I should be giving more to my kid than I already was. Sounds like a bummer.”
“Is that a thing?” Cadence asked in the same exaggerated tone. “Do parents sometimes feel like they should give two thousand percent to their children? I think I’ve heard that somewhere.”
“The two of you are hilarious,” June deadpanned.
“Would you like us to be sincere?” Cadence asked with alarming sweetness. “Because I would be happy to talk about how you are a wonderful mother who works hard all the time to provide for her son.”
“I could add that you’re a great friend on top of all those things Cadence just said,” Eleanor contributed.
“You rescued my hair, Junie,” Cadence said, pointing to where her perm was looking way less chaotic than it had before June had gotten her hands on it. “Don’t underestimate saving my hair and the overall effect that had on my quality of life.”
June let out a watery laugh.
Eleanor grabbed her hand. This time, there was nothing teasing in her sincerity.
“You’re not asking for the moon, June,” she said. “You’re looking to do something small and nice for yourself. You deserve that. Everyone deserves that, but especially you.”
