"You made good time," I managed, voice muffled by her scarf.
"Only two bathroom stops," she bragged. Then, "Oh my God, I forgot to text you from the interstate. I was too busy bribing them with Christmas music."
Liz, Beth's oldest, hovered behind her, already sizing up the new environment. Penny peered around, clutching a stuffed rabbit like a security badge, and Ollie zeroed in on Huey with the instincts of a bloodhound.
The twins arrived on cue, half sliding down the stairs, hair wild and faces bright. Fifi nabbed the lead, "Hey, you made it!" and Mere followed, already prepping her "Camp Counselor" routine.
"I'll show you where everyone's sleeping," Fifi declared. "It's kind of weird right now, but Mom says itworks."
Mere added, "Yeah. You get my room, Aunt Beth, and the kids are in Fifi's. We've got sleeping bags."
Beth blinked, a little lost. "Where are you two sleeping?"
This was the moment I'd been bracing for. Fifi grinned, revealing the full weirdness like it was a badge of honor. "We're staying at our dad's for the holidays. He's got this huge house and, like, the most entitled cat. It's wild."
Even after everything, the words "our dad" sounded foreign and magical at the same time. My chest went hot.
Penny's mouth dropped open. "A wildcat?!"
Fifi winked. "Big and white and fluffy. Her name's Lola. But she's actually a Persian cat. We have a river out back, too, look!"
Ollie, for his part, just patted Huey and whispered, "Nice doggie."
With Fifi and Mere organizing, the group was off, down the hall, through the sliding doors, out toward the creek.
The house went instantly silent, all the kid energy pulling like a tide out the back. Beth didn't waste a second. She turned, eyes glassy, and grabbed both my hands so hard it stung.
She didn't even warm up. "He's gone. Tash, it's over. He signed."
I blinked, not tracking. "What?"
Beth shook her head so hard her hair flew loose. "Ryan. He signed away his parental rights. The lawyer called last night. It's a done deal. The kids are mine for good. No threats, no more lawyers, nothing."
I tried to act surprised. Really, I did. The guilt spiked sharply in my stomach, knowing I wasn't being honest. I pasted on what I hoped was genuine shock.
"Beth, that's amazing! I can't believe it. I mean, how? Why would he?—"
She crumpled into my arms, laughing and crying at the same time. "I don't know! I don't care, honestly. I just keep reading the papers and waiting for it to sink in. He's actually out of our lives, Tash. It's really over."
Gerty dove into the hug too, all three of us stacked in a knot in the entryway.
"We need to celebrate," Gerty said. "I mean, really lose our minds. Cake, confetti, a goddamn parade."
Beth sniffed, blinking away the tears. "I just want peace. I want to put my kids to bed without worrying he'll show up drunk and ruin everything."
Gerty and I nodded so hard we looked like dashboard bobbleheads.
"We're so happy for you," I promised. "Like, ‘win-the-lottery' happy."
Beth's smile went wobbly. "You're both insane, you know that?"
Gerty patted her shoulder. "Takes one to know one."
Before Beth could process more, the twins reappeared in the doorway, this time with mud streaked up their shins and three additional children trailing behind, equally grimy.
"Can we make some hot chocolate?" Fifi pleaded. "It's too cold to stay out there for long."
Mere shot me a sidelong glance. "We didn't actually get in the creek. Just near it."
