“Wow, thanks!”
“My pleasure.”
April caught Ellie’s grin; clearly, Frankie was winning over the most formidable mothers-in-law of their circle.
“Are you having a boy or a girl?” April asked.
“Yes,” Frankie said, eyes glinting with humor at their confusion. “I told the doctor not to tell me. I don’t really care, so long as they’re healthy. Waylon’s dying to know, but that’s his problem,” she laughed. “Honestly, he doesn’t care either way—just wants everything to go smoothly.”
The room quieted for a beat, affection softening the air. Everyone knew what she’d survived to get here. Frankie’s doctors were monitoring her pregnancy closely, but so far, so good.
“I bet you can’t wait to travel,” Wren said.
“I can’t,” Frankie admitted. “But for the first time in years, I also don’t need to. It’s nice knowing I have a home that’ll always be here.” She looked around the cabin, taking in the women who’d become her family. “I’m going to miss the hell out of all of you, though. That’s the only drawback.”
Star chose that moment to fuss. “I think that means she’s going to miss her Aunt Frank,” Ellie said as she rocked her gently. “Or, she might be hungry. Or…anything. I’m still learning. I can’t believe they let me leave the hospital with her.” Ellie looked lovingly down at Star. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”
Claudia touched her daughter-in-law’s arm. “I didn’t either, when I came home with her father,” she said, gently stroking Star’s cheek. The baby stirred, smacked her lips, and fell back asleep. “I wish I hadn’t been so nervous, that I’d enjoyed those first months more, because everything turned out fine.” She smiled at Ellie. “Thank you for letting me be here now, so that I can have a second chance at enjoying this.” She covered her heart. “I promise that I will do everything I can to help you, so you can enjoy your time with Star. You’re such a wonderful mother.”
Ellie sniffled. “Thank you,” she managed.
April glanced around to see there wasn’t a dry eye in the room—including hers. She remembered the early days of her new life with baby Kevin, how scared she was, even with all the help from her mom. She was glad that Ellie had Claudia.
As the conversation faded into a lull, the opening chords of Fleetwood Mac’s “Landslide” drifted through the room. Frankie’s eyes misted immediately. “Oh no,” she murmured, laughing a little. “This one always gets me.” She was met with gentle laughter and head nods, and as if on cue, every woman in the room started singing along with Stevie Nicks about fearing change, time bringing boldness, and children getting older.
The song finished. Stephanie shifted in her seat, crossing one ankle over the other with the grace of someone who still taught yoga to twenty-somethings and made them sweat. She tilted her head and smiled. “I met her once. Stevie Nicks. I was hiking around Red Rocks after leading Yoga on the Rocks that morning. Two-thousand people stretched out on yoga mats on the bleachers. Quite a sight. Anyway, I was coming around a boulder and there she was, sitting on a rock, eyes closed, communing with nature. I stopped in my tracks and she opened her eyes and looked straight at me. I apologized for bothering her, and she thanked me for the yoga class earlier. She got a kick out of us having the same name.”
“She has a lot of relatives in Colorado,” Claudia said. “She comes back every couple of years and visits the Rocks.”
Stephanie nodded. “You know,” Stephanie said, swirling her wine, “when that song first came out, I thought it was about getting old. About time slipping away.”
April leaned back in her chair. Everyone watched Stephanie with open affection.
Stephanie went on, her voice strong and sure. “But the older I got, the more I realized it’s about standing in the center of your life as everything seems to fall apart and surviving the landslideshappening all around you—and maybe letting them change you without breaking you.”
She unfolded her legs and stood, slowly, still graceful. “I remember thinking as a girl that the teenagers next door were so old. Then I was a teenager, and I was surprised at how young and awkward I felt, like a baby deer on roller skates.”
Laughter rippled from a few of the women nearby.
“In my twenties, I thought my parents were ancient. Responsible. Wise. Then I hit their age and realized I still didn’t know what the hell I was doing. I still didn’t feel old. Now I’m older than my granny when she passed and I feel younger than I thought I would when I got to my seventies, despite the aches and pains.” Stephanie tapped her forehead. “Up here? Still young.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “And in here? Still wide open.” Stephanie smiled, mischievous. “Still wild enough at seventy-six to spontaneously kiss my doctor and talk him into being my boyfriend.”
April snorted into her wine.
“The truth is, ‘old’ just keeps moving the goalposts. It stays ahead of you—if you’re lucky. I hope I never catch up to it.”
“I don’t think you ever will,” Ellie said softly.
“Damn right I won’t.” Stephanie walked toward the kitchen island. “I’m hitting the desserts. All this wisdom burns calories.”
Laughter broke the quiet spell, but the feeling lingered in April—a kind of tender awe that made her feel seen. How many times had her world crashed down around her? She stood up and turned for the door.
“Are you leaving?” Ellie asked, looking concerned.
“No, I just need some air for a minute.”
“Good,” Wren said as she sliced the pie April brought. “Because we haven’t grilled you yet on your date with Shane.”
April’s head turned so fast she was surprised her neck didn’t break. Before she could speak, Rochelle jumped in.
