“Love you too, Mommy. And you can call me tomorrow.”
“Okay. I will. Or you can call me.”
“I know. But I might forget so you better remember for us.”
“I will remember for both of us.”
“Okay. G’nite.”
“Goodnight, Mia. Love you big.”
The call clicks and I smile softly to myself. Then I lean back, settling into my pillow with a soft sigh—the kind that feels like it’s been waiting years to leave my chest.
For a few blissful seconds, it’s just the pond, the feel of his hand around mine, and the way the world narrowed when he kissed me.
Then the sensible thoughts begin their slow orbit.
Greyson is my co-worker.
He’s Mia’s coach.
And Mia doesn’t need one more upheaval. She’s had enough shifting around in her short seven years.
My fingertips graze my lips in the low lamplight of my bedside table.
This isn’t only about Greyson’s kisses or the way he makes me feel.
But none of that matters. I’m not sure I could walk away from him again—even if I tried.
Chapter 22
Greyson
I almost wish we were butterflies
and lived but three summer days.
~ John Keats
I scan the driveway again, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. The porch floorboard creaks underfoot. The cup of coffee in my hand does nothing to disguise the fact that I’ve been out here waiting for her, my eyes darting up toward the main road every few seconds. Hallie will see through me the second she pulls in.
It’s our last day off. The last day before Mia comes home.
Hallie’s been here every day for the past three days. That first day cracked something open for both of us. We crossed lines we can’t uncross. I regret nothing—even if she has to pull the reins now that Mia will be back in town and we’re going back to work. A few days of having her is better than nothing at all. I want so much more, but I can’t afford toentertain those thoughts. I’m not in the driver’s seat here. She is. I have to let her make the call.
I smile into my mug as I take a warm sip thinking of our kisses, shared laughter, and the way she slows down to listen to me.
She asked me who serves me. I’ve thought long and hard about that ever since she brought it up. She’s right. Not too many people do. I’m sure plenty would if I let them. But she’s the one—always thinking of me and checking in to see what I need. She makes me feel like I can come undone in front of her, and no one else on earth does that for me the way she does. It’s always been that way with us—right from the start.
We went on a hike the other day. I took her to a spot where the waterfall is flowing with all the spring melt and the flowers are just coming in. And she loved it as much as I hoped she would. Then we ate a picnic in a clearing before we packed everything out. She stayed until dinner and we drank cocoa around the fireplace until almost midnight. She leaned back on me and I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and we talked at intervals. Then we just sat, staring at the flames, holding one another.
Yesterday we drove two towns over and visited a farm stand. Hallie got all excited about the strawberries and insisted we buy a flat to make shortcake. We spent the afternoon making a mess in my kitchen and feeding each other the dessert. She insisted on getting home for dinner with her mom, so I reluctantly let her go.
Just before I was going to bed, she called and we stayed up for a few more hours talking like we were teens with crushes on one another. We’re making up for lost time. But it’s more than that.
The crunch of gravel interrupts my thoughts. I scan the slope of the driveway. Her van pulls in and I walk down the steps to greet her.
Hallie hops out and walks toward me. The sunlight catches in her hair, and she smiles up at me. My shoulders drop, the tension easing out of me at the sight of her.
