The side door, which everyone used at Aunt Nancy’s, opened directly into the kitchen, her older Cape Cod house filled with thirty years of memories.
Sydney sat down at the round kitchen table across from her mom. “Where’s Aunt Nancy?”
She didn’t ask about her father. She’d seen him upon arrival, wandering the yard and looking at the shrubbery. He’d always been a nature lover, so instead of getting caught up in his thoughts on the summer bloom on the sweet pepperbushoutside, she’d given him a quick kiss and headed inside to find her mom.
“She’s picking up Tess and Callie after their soccer game to bring them to hang out for the afternoon.” Tess and Callie were Nancy’s grandchildren, the daughters of Sydney’s cousin, Steve, who was about seven years older than her.
“That’ll be nice, spending time with your grandkids once removed.”
“Is that what we’re calling them?” her mom asked. She put down her newspaper and picked up a bundle of something that had been seated on the chair next to her, out of view. A crochet hook and yarn. Guess she’d been serious about the baby blankets.
“Mom,” Sydney groaned. “I thought we’d left things in a really good place in Florida. Why were you so”—she scrunched up her nose reflexively—“hostile at the inn yesterday?”
She’d thought about bringing it up multiple times yesterday, when they’d been trekking across the greater Stoneport area to visit all of her aunts, but there had never been a good time.
Now, she was determined to get to the bottom of things. Especially after what had happened between her and Reese last night.
Fingers that had already dexterously started working across the blanket, looping stitches, stilled. Her mom peered up at her, brows drawn together. “I didn’t realize that I was hostile.”
“I’d already told you that I was dating Reese. You said you were happy for me. What changed?” Sydney pushed.
Looking at Reese and seeing anything other than an amazing woman was something Sydney couldn’t understand. But this was her mother, and she wanted to make sense of her reaction.
“In my defense, Cade told Beth who told me that your cousin saw you at the Devereux house for a wedding-related party. For Grant. And I was happy that you seemed so happy. But then you left, and I kept thinking about it.”
Sydney scooted her chair a little closer. “And what did you start thinking?”
“That I was concerned. You’re my daughter, Sydney,” her mom said, “and I know that you’re an adult. I support you making your own decisions.”
“But you can see how it doesn’t feel that way when you treat the people I’ve made decisions about the way you did? That dig about Grant coming to dinner, too? Come on, Mom. Really?”
She saw a hint of embarrassment flash through her mom’s eyes. “It wasn’t my best moment, I’ll give you that. We arrived at the inn, and I asked Hallie if you were around when I couldn’t get ahold of you. I’d assumed you were sleeping given how late you’d gotten back.”
Sydney could already see how it played out. Hallie had never been good at lying to her mom. Neither of them were. “And Hallie folded like a piece of paper?”
Her mom smiled ruefully. “Something like that.”
“So I was out with Reese. That shouldn’t be surprising to you?” Sydney was still trying to pick at the fraying edges of her mom’s story, trying to understand where her true issue was stemming from.
“After you’d sat at the airport for about eight hours in the hopes of making it back here, only for me to find out that it was so you could go to another event at the Devereux house. For something related to Grant’s wedding, I assume?” her mom asked, though it was clear she already knew the answer.
“I like her.Her. And while it’s not the most amazing thing that she’s the sister of my ex-boyfriend, it’s not going to stop me. And honestly…” She took a quick, steadying breath. “This summer has really helped me make peace with the Grant situation.”
“Is this some kind of exposure therapy?” her mom asked, half joking but with an underlying tone of seriousness.
Sydney considered the question. “Sort of? I mean, I caught him, and I walked out of our apartment. I stopped answering his calls. I sent him any of his stuff back in the mail. I still don’t think he deserved a conversation after what he’d done, but I was leftwith all of thesequestions. I didn’t have answers, and I didn’t have anywhere to put all my frustration.”
Sydney stretched out her arms, thinking about how it had been too many days since she’d held a tennis racket in her hands. “And for a while, it was fine. I had tennis to throw myself into. As many hours and workouts and matches as I could handle. But then I got injured…”
Her mom’s hand encircled her own, and she felt like a child again, wanting so desperately to have her mom’s comfort. Something she’d pushed away for the last year for fear that she’d crumble.
“I couldn’t make it work anymore, but still, I kept trying. Working. Training. But it didn’t matter,” Sydney lamented. “And then my career just petered out. It was like I’d been running and running and running, only now, there was nowhere for me to go.”
“You never told me any of this.” Even though her mom had been there in the aftermath, Sydney hadn’t wanted to talk about it. All she’d managed, all she’d had to say at the time, was that Grant had cheated and things were over.
Her mom had wanted her to talk about it at first. Had tried all the different tactics, actually. Giving Sydney space. Asking her very pointed questions. Encouraging her to speak to a professional, if she wasn’t going to confide in her own mother. But Sydney had wanted to keep moving forward, to throw herself into tennis and forget what had happened.
Now, she was starting to see it a little better from her mom’s perspective. Sydney had pushed things down. Bottled them up. Done everything to avoid the reality of her situation.
