The house feels too quiet without Tommy.
Three days now. Three days of him staying with Jake while I prepare for tomorrow’s custody hearing. Three days of waking up and not hearing his feet padding down the hallway, not making his breakfast, not reminding him to brush his teeth.
I miss my son so much it physically hurts.
But Jake insisted. He said Tommy shouldn’t be around the stress, shouldn’t see me falling apart every time Derek’s lawyer sends another threatening email.
He’s right. Doesn’t make it easier.
I’m staring at my phone when it rings. Dorothy Williams.
“Hi, Dorothy.” I try to sound more awake than I feel.
“Rachel, dear. I wanted to check on you before tomorrow.” Her voice is steady, warm. The same voice that’s been ordering pie and coffee every Tuesday for months. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m okay. Nervous, but okay.” I sit up on the couch. “How are you? I heard about Ryan’s sentencing yesterday.”
“Twenty-two years.” She says it matter-of-factly. No tremor, no break. “The judge was quite clear about the severity of his actions. Three counts of arson, attempted murder for the house fire. He’ll be an old man when he gets out.”
“Dorothy, I’m so sorry. I know he’s your grandson—”
“He made his choices. I made mine.” She’s quiet for a moment. “I testified against him, you know. Told them everything about his gambling debts, the times he asked me for money, the way he’d gotten so desperate. The prosecutor said my testimony helped.”
“That must have been hard.”
“It was necessary. Ryan needed to face consequences for what he did. To you, to me, to this town.” She sighs. “I won’t visithim in prison. I’ve made that clear to his mother. What he did was unforgivable, and I won’t pretend otherwise just because we share blood.”
The strength in her voice amazes me. “You’re incredible, you know that?”
“I’m a survivor, dear. Same as you.” She pauses. “Now, about tomorrow. I’ll be there. I’m testifying on your behalf, remember? The judge needs to hear from someone who’s watched you with Tommy, who knows what kind of mother you are.”
My throat gets tight. “You don’t have to do that.”
“Of course I do. You’re family now. Not by blood, but by choice. And I choose you.” Her voice softens. “You’re going to win tomorrow, Rachel. That boy belongs with you, and any judge with sense will see it.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“I’m always right. Ask anyone.” I can hear the smile in her voice. “Now get some rest. Tomorrow, we show that ex-boyfriend of yours what real family looks like.”
After we hang up, I sit with the phone in my lap for a long time. Dorothy’s grandson tried to kill her, and she’s still standing. Still strong. Still showing up for the people who matter.
If she can do that, I can face Derek in court tomorrow.
I’m still sitting there when Cole walks in, Theo and Marco right behind him. They’re carrying shopping bags from the pharmacy and looking oddly coordinated, like they planned something.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
Cole sets a bag on the coffee table. “You’re taking the afternoon off.”
“Off from what? I’ve been sitting here doing nothing for three days.”
“Exactly. And you’re going to spiral if you sit here one more minute.” Theo drops onto the couch beside me, grinning. “So, we’re sending you out.”
Marco pulls something from his pocket. A credit card. He holds it out to me.
I stare at it. “What is this?”
“Your afternoon.” His dark eyes are serious. “Spa appointment at 2 p.m. Hair appointment at 4. Nails at 5:30. Whatever else you want in between.”
