“But what?”
They sat in silence while Lacey searched for words and Vivien fought the need to mother too hard—to protect, to warn, to list every possible outcome.
“There’s no question his job is bigger, better, harder to get, harder to keep, and way more ‘important’ than mine.” Lacey used air quotes and Vivien didn’t argue. The guy made millions playing professional sports. To equate their jobs would be silly, but she didn’t want Lacey to devalue her work.
“This isn’t really about work,” Lacey whispered, the words sounding very much like a realization she was just having.
“No,” Vivien agreed. “It’s about your…worth.”
Lacey paled. “Yeah, I guess it is.”
“And,” Vivien continued, “you’ve yet to say whetheryouwant to move in with him. He says it’ll be fun and romantic and a memorable season. What do you think and feel when you imagine that life in Jacksonville? Regardless of whether it’s for a season or a lifetime, how does the idea of living with him feel in your gut, Lace?”
Vivien had a suspicion she knew the answer but didn’t want to back Lacey into a corner. She had to reach the conclusion on her own.
Lacey looked away, staring at the wall. “I don’t know.”
“But I think you do,” Vivien said quietly.
Lacey’s shoulders sagged. “I want both. I want him. And I want my career.” She let out a soft groan and reached for Vivien’s hand. “What should I do, Mom? What’s the best and safest choice?”
Vivien threaded her fingers through her daughter’s. “Those aren’t always the same thing, honey.”
“Uh, not helpful,” Lacey teased. “I mean, what doyouthink I should do? You have…life. Wisdom. Experience.”
Vivien snorted. “And a divorce to prove that none of those things are foolproof and some fools are better ignored.”
“Please,” Lacey said softly.
Vivien inhaled, then exhaled, steadying herself. She met her daughter’s eyes.
“All I can say is to value yourself,” she said simply. “Not your job. Not your relationship.You.More than a possible future. More than a good time. More than the next adventure.”
Lacey’s breath caught.
“To me,” Vivien continued, voice thickening, “you are the greatest prize ever won. And if someone wants a prize like that…they should earn it.”
Lacey nodded slowly, the meaning settling in. “I hear you. You mean, like…with a ring?” She winced. “It’s awfully fast.”
“I know and I don’t necessarily mean with a ring. But with more than…the promise of a season. I mean…what if you don’t make the playoffs?”
Lacey rolled her eyes at the sports analogy, then held up her hand. “I hear you, Mom. I know what you’re saying. Don’t sell myself short.”
“Exactly.”
They sat back, the moment stretching, then easing. “I needed to hear that,” she whispered. “Not promising I won’t sell myself short, but I value your insight. I just don’t know if I’m ready for something that long-term and serious. But thank you for the advice.”
Vivien withdrew her hand and patted Lacey’s. “That’s what mothers are for.”
“And friends,” Lacey said softly, her eyes moist again. “You’ve been the best one for me.”
“Oh, honey, thank you.”
She pointed at Vivien. “You’re going to be my maid of honor…someday.”
Chills danced over Vivien at the thought. “I’ll probably have to wrestle Tessa for the job, the way she jokes about being your mom.” Vivien pointed at her. “Or mom-in-law.”
Lacey laughed, the moment lighter. “We’ll see.” She lifted her glass and eyed Vivien over the rim. “Okay. Your turn. Why does this woman look troubled? Bridge problems?”
