"Mama!" Noah appeals to the court, but he's giggling anyway.
Smiling, I watch my boys and feel the love I have for them settle under my skin, all the way to my soul.
If I have nothing, I'm still the richest woman in the world because of my boys.
"Glad you had fun. Where are Grandma and Grandpop?"
"Right here," Diane says and I turn to see her walking through the doorway to the kitchen, drying her hands on a dish towel. She tosses it over her shoulder, and walks right up to me, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
Diane's been the only true maternal presence that I've ever known, and it still fills me with happiness whenever she treats me like this. I always tried to emulate myself as a mother after her—warm, but firm.
"Emmett's out in the shed," Diane says.
"Go say goodbye to your Pop. I have to talk to Grandma for a minute," I tell the boys, patting Liam's back and nudging him toward the mudroom.
My oldest studies my face for a beat, brown eyes searching, then nods and throws an arm around Noah's shoulders.
Their chatter fades as they push out the door, and I turn to a curious-looking Diane.
"I've got some news," I tell her, smiling softly with genuine excitement and pride.
"Oh?"
"I got a job."
"Really?" Her brows lift in surprise. "I didn't know you were even looking."
"I didn't really know either," I admit with a shrug. "Kind of stumbled into it."
"You know we could have found you something at the garage," she says quietly, peering at me now.
Yes, I know I could have asked for a role at the garage, but the point was independence: finding a jobmyself,something that Igot all on my own.
Something that wasmine.
"Where is it?"
My grin widens. "Mabel's.”
"Always loved Mabel," Diane smiles, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and guiding me into the kitchen. "What'll you be doing?"
"It's customer service. Ringing people out. Stocking shelves. Helping customers."
Diane tilts her head with a small smile, "I think you're a little overqualified for that."
"I'm unemployed, Mom," I laugh, sliding onto a stool at the island as she lifts the glass lid off her dessert tray. "I'm not overqualified for anything."
Diane frowns, seemingly not pleased with my words. She cuts off a piece of monkey bread for me, placing it on a small plate. Grabbing a fork, I take a bite, chewing slowly just to give me something to do.
Diane doesn't take her eyes off me.
"What did Atlas say about this?"
That question makes me pause, my fork hovering over my plate as I'm not entirely sure of what to tell her. I feel as though I’m standing at a crossroads.
The fear that Diane will make this my fault lingers, then I won't have their support. She and Emmett have been my parents longer than my own parents were.
But it's Diane, so I tell her the truth.
