“The firm has Wesley, who you've said is more than capable.” Ottavia replied. “Honey, what's this really about?”
Everything. Nothing. The fact that stepping outside her average daily routine and leaving for elsewhere with no familiar anchor felt like standing at the edge of a cliff. The fact that seeing Ruby yesterday had stirred up something she didn't want to name.
But she couldn't say any of that. Not here, not with her children listening and her father's disapproval hanging thick in the air whenever her ex-husband’s name was mentioned.
“I just think it's unusual,” she said finally. “That Braden would set this up without telling me who I'd be traveling with.”
“Perhaps he knew you'd say no if he told you,” Vittoria responded.
“Exactly. Which means…”
“Which means,” her grandmother continued, “for all his faults, he knows you better than you know yourself sometimes. He knows you need this, even if you're too stubborn to admit it.”
The braid was finished. Vittoria tied it off with a soft ribbon, then started on the second one. Celeste sat very still, watching Luna trace her finger along the words in her book, while Theo peppered Daniel with questions about meat thermometers and food safety.
“I met Ruby on the road yesterday and I was rude to her. She tried to be friendly and I shut her down.”
“So apologize tomorrow,” Ottavia said simply. “You're both adults now. Start afresh.”
It sounded so easy when her mother said it. Just apologize. Move on. Spend extended time in close quarters with someone who'd once represented everything the teenage Celeste wanted for herself. That easy confidence and ability to exist in the world without constantly second-guessing every decision.
“Fine,” she heard herself say. “I'll go.”
Theo cheered. Luna looked up from her book, smiling. Daniel nodded approvingly and went back to his grilling. Only Vittoria remained quiet, finishing the second braid with precision.
“There, beautiful as always.” She stepped back to admire her work.
Celeste reached back, touching the braids. They felt solid, grounding. A reminder of who she was, where she came from.
“I'm being silly. Getting worked up over high school drama. I'm not usually like this.”
“You're not usually a lot of things lately,” Vittoria murmured, so quietly that only Celeste could hear. “Maybe that's the problem.”
The words sent a shiver down Celeste's spine. She turned to look at her grandmother, but Vittoria's expression was unreadable, her dark eyes holding information Celeste wasn't sure she wanted to know.
Her father called everyone to grab plates for the chicken and the evening dissolved into the comfortable chaos of family—talking over each other, stealing food off each other's plates, laughing at jokes that weren't really that funny but felt hilarious anyway.
Later, after she had made a trip home to fetch the children’s overnight bags and deliver them to her parents, Celeste sat in her driveway with the engine running. The house loomed dark and empty in front of her.
She should go inside, pack and make lists in preparation for her trip. Instead, she pulled out her phone and scrolled to Ruby's contact information. She'd gotten it from the rental manager that morning, along with the confirmation details. Her thumb hovered over the screen.
I'm sorry about yesterday. Looking forward to the trip.
Too formal. Too stiff. Like a business email.
Hey, sorry I was a jerk. See you tomorrow?
Too casual. They weren't friends.
She deleted both drafts and tossed the phone onto the passenger seat. She'd apologize in person. That was the adult thing to do.
But as she finally headed inside, she couldn't stop wondering what Ruby Langley had been doing for the past sixteen years. Where she'd gone after leaving Cheyenne Valley. What had brought her back.
Not that it mattered. They'd attend the festival, drive back, and probably never speak again. Their lives had diverged too much, traveled paths too different.
The Ruby she had met the other day seemed free-spirited. The sort to travel around the world, living a different life unencumbered by obligations.
In all likelihood, no great bond or friendship would come of the road trip and that was quite alright with Celeste.
