“Yeah. No,” I say with a smile at my silly child. “Let’s scoot. We have to get you to school.”
Drop-off is an event at the elementary school. Cars line up in the circular driveway out front and along the main street and side streets. Kids pour out, hauling backpacks and school projects, waving to one another and clustering with friends. I’m sure the aerial view would look like a multi-colored anthill.
Mia hops out of the van shouting, “Don’t forget about picking me up!”
“I’ll be here,” I promise. “Have the best day ever!”
I watch her practically skip up the sidewalk when she sees a girl she obviously knows.
I drive home in silence. No radio—just my thoughts to keep me company. My mom’s teasing still pricks at me.A man. Who has time for a man? And where does she think I’d meet this elusive man?
I’ve had six years to process the shock of Danny deciding family life wasn’t for him—after we were already in full swing. He left right after Mia’s first birthday. And I grieved the lossof him, but more the loss of my dreams. Getting pregnant changed the entire trajectory of my life. But I wouldn’t trade my daughter for anything.
I can’t imagine bringing a man into our lives. We’ve been doing this solo for so long now. I don’t even think I’d know how to kiss someone anymore. It seems like one of those skills that might need practice to maintain peak-level abilities.
I shake my head, pulling up in front of our house and parking. Leave it to my mom to plant some ridiculous thought about Mia’s coach in my head. Now I’m going to be thinking all the wrong kinds of thoughts about him when I meet him this afternoon.
I let myself in the front door and Henry comes bounding off the top of the couch where he’s taken to curling up like a massive cat. He’s the most confused dog I’ve ever met.
He’s wagging his tail and bumping into me, kissing my hands and whimpering as if I left him for hours instead of twenty minutes. I look down at the living room floor and gasp.
“Henry! What did you do?” A pair of Mom’s beige granny panties are on the living room floor in shreds along with one of Mia’s colorful socks and one of my favorite slippers. I pick up the items and tell the dog, “No.”
He has the good sense to tuck his tail.
“At least you’re an equal opportunity destroyer,” I say, taking the remains to the kitchen trash can. “Am I going to have to get you toys?”
He wags his tail. “You’re a blackmailer? Oh, Henry. Aren’t you clever?”
His tail picks up speed, thwacking the kitchen cupboards.
I have a few unpacked boxes still left in my room, so I get busy unloading those while Henry flops down on the rug next to me.
I’m going through one full of scrapbooks and clippingswhen I come across a photo I had developed from my phone camera roll years ago. I tug it out of the stack and hold it up.
My breath stalls. I put a hand to the center of my chest. There I am, bathed in lamplight on the streets of Munich at night. And standing next to me is the soldier I met the night before he deployed—Ace. I smile at the memory, running my finger along the edge of the photograph.
I stare into his ice-blue eyes. “Did your life go just as you planned it, Ace? Are you back in Tennessee somewhere?”
I think back to my declarations that night:I’m going to be a world-famous surgeon. I’m not mad at younger me. She had her whole future open to her. I’m only slightly envious. After all, she didn’t have Mia, and I do.
My phone pings with a text just as I’m setting the last scrapbook into the trunk at the foot of my bed.
Avery: Still on for lunch?
Hallie: That depends. Are you charging me for an unofficial therapy session?
Avery: Mom?
Hallie: And the dog. But, yes. Mostly Mom.
Avery: Bring it! I can’t wait for some sister time.
Hallie: Give me a minute to freshen up. I’ll be there in less than a half hour.
Avery: Yay!
I glance down at my comforter. That photo from Germany is lying on my white quilt. I guess I forgot to slip it back into the stack of memorabilia from my gap year in Europe. I open the trunk, pull out the shoebox and toss the photo in.
