“None.” Landry grinned. “Totally impromptu. Maybe we missed our callings and should consider a tour?”
Meredith patted Landry’s baby bump. “Little miss might make road life difficult.”
“True.” Landry gave an exaggerated shrug of dismay. “I guess since we’re staying here, we should find out what has crawled up Bronwyn’s butt.”
“Language.” Meredith tapped her ears.
“Sorry,” Landry stage-whispered. “But don’t you think it’s getting ridiculous?”
“Yes, but we discussed this. She has to tell us what’s going on. We can’t force it.”
“I think we might need to try.”
“You could be right.”
Both women turned to Bronwyn and waited for her reaction.
“Again, how long did you practice?”
Neither of them spoke. And neither of them smiled. Playtime was over.
“I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine,” Bronwyn said, not even believing herself. “I needed a moment. It’s a big deal, having y’all here, what I’m about to do. If I’m wrong, it could cost me my job.”
They continued to stare at her.
“What?”
“We’re patiently waiting for you to talk yourself around to the truth.” Landry managed to deliver that line with no judgment.
Bronwyn fell back on her bed and covered her eyes. “What do you want from me?”
“We want you to be happy.” The bed dipped, first on her left, then on her right. She peeked through her fingers. They were now sitting on either side of her. She was trapped.
Meredith tapped her arm. “We want you to give yourself permission to live.”
“Iamliving.”
“You’re hiding from life.” Landry’s eyes shone. “I’ve been there. I understand. The hurt, the pain, you want to avoid it. But you’re too young to assume you can’t have more than what you have now.”
“What are you talking about?” Bronwyn didn’t understand where this was coming from.
Meredith patted her knee. “You forget. I was there the first time you fell for him. I know the signs.”
Cal joined Mo and Eliza in the kitchen a few seconds after Bronwyn left. “What’s wrong with Beep?” he asked.
Mo opened the box of cookies on the counter. “You’re married. You tell me.”
“I’m not married toher. And what does being married have to do with anything?”
Mo glanced at Cal and got the nod before he offered a cookie to Eliza. “Only one before dinner, yeah?”
“Yes! Thanks!” She climbed onto a stool and munched away.
Mo took a cookie for himself. “You want one?” he asked Cal.
“Why not? There’s no telling when we’ll eat.”
They took their cookies into Bronwyn’s living room, and Mo walked around, looking at the pictures and art on her walls. He felt like a voyeur, wandering around her home, looking for the things that made her, her. What did adult Bronwyn like? He’d guessedright earlier today with the coffee. But what changes had the past seventeen years brought?
