Gwen bit her lip, considering. “I don’t know. Honestly, I’m hoping something — anything — will shake us loose. We’ve been… stalled. This in-between space is starting to feel permanent.”
“That sounds challenging,” her mom affirmed.
“Challenging like trying to breathe through plastic.” Gwen let out a short laugh. “Sure, let’s throw me into a weekend full of spa treatments and couple-y friends. Maybe the awkwardness will kill me before the ennui does.”
Her mom studied her face for a moment. “You used to lean into challenge. Take risks. Even the hard ones. You chose a field that’s ninety percent rejection and ten percent ego. You rode a bike everywhere, for god’s sake.”
“Yeah, when I was twenty-four and immortal,” Gwen muttered.
“Maybe,” her mom said. “But you were brave. I think you still are. This trip might not fix anything. But if it gives you a better sense of what’s left, then maybe it’s worth it.”
Gwen sighed. Her chest still felt tight, but she nodded. “I just want to stop feeling like we’re waiting for something that’s never going to happen,” she admitted.
“Then maybe stop waiting,” her mom said as though itwere obvious. “Take a risk. Get back on the bike. Maybe with a helmet and a reflective vest.”
Gwen blinked, not sure whether to cry or laugh.
Her mom leaned toward her, pressing a kiss to Gwen’s forehead. “You’re doing okay. Better than you think.”
Gwen’s chest squeezed with affection, and she hugged her mom. “Do you want the guest bed?” she asked. They’d be leaving early enough in the morning that her mom would be a great help with getting the kids off to school and Maggie and Gwen into an Uber to the airport roughly around the same time.
“No, I hate that bed. I’ll sleep here on the couch,” her mom said with a knowing smile.
The night outside thrummed with cicadas, their steady chorus folding into the syrupy warmth of an early Texas fall. A faint breeze carried the scent of cut grass and something faintly sweet, like memory trying to sneak in. Inside, the house was still, as if the walls themselves were holding their breath. She stood there in that quiet, feeling the pause between heartbeats, suspended in a moment that could tip either way.
Kiera named the conversation “The Final Countdown”.
Kiera
okayyyyyy my loves, happy Bachelorette Day!!!!
Pete
IT’S HAPPENING
Izzy
I’ve been up since 5, I’m basically feral now.
Kiera
Please save that energy for the actual party.
Danica
Maggie?? Gwyneth?? Are you packing your most chaotic selves??
Maggie
My suitcase is 40% sequins, 60% sunscreen.
Gwen
My offering will be a Costco jar of ibuprofen.
Izzy
Thanks, Dad.
