“I could eat this basket of bread and call it a day,” Avery says, grabbing a slice and setting it on her bread plate. “So, tell me everything.”
“Everything?”
“How is it working at the station? How’s the move coming along? How’s life with Mom and that massive, adorable dog of hers … Everything.”
I chuckle. “What about you? I live my life every day. I’m sort of burnt out thinking about my job and motherhood—and Mom. Give me an escape. I’d rather hear about your art. What are you working on? What have you been doing for fun when you’re not hunched over the iPad designing something fabulous?”
“Want to see?” Avery buzzes with the excitement of a creative when they’re in the middle of a project that’s flowing.
I love when she gets like this.
She reaches down into her messenger bag and pulls out her iPad. The waitress arrives with our salads. Avery clicks the button and hands the tablet across the table.
“Oh, Ave! It’s gorgeous,” I tell her.
“You think so?”
I give her anare you kidding meglance and then turn my attention back to her artwork. Our soup arrives and she slides the iPad back into her bag. We chat about her life and mine, laughing and soaking up the chance to be alone together. By the time the waitress approaches our table to check if we’d like dessert, I’m settled back into my chair, a satisfied smile on my face.
“How about it, Hallie?” Avery asks. “Want to split something?”
“After all that bread?” I ask.
Avery turns to the waitress and says, “I guess we’ll get the check,” at the same time as I say, “What do you have?”
We end up ordering a house-made berry cobbler to share.
“So, what are you doing this afternoon?” Avery asks.
“I’m going to Mia’s practice since it falls on my day off, and then I’m hanging out with my daughter. I’ve been so busy trying to empty all the boxes, I’ve just been letting Mom take her to baseball.”
At the mention of the boxes, my mind drifts to the photo from all those years ago in Munich.
I shake the thought out of my head and say, “I haven’t missed this much baseball since Mia started playing.”
“Well, you’re not a school secretary anymore,” Avery points out. “Your schedules don’t line up so matchy-matchy the way they did in Maryville.”
I glance up, holding my bite midair. “Do you think I messed up, becoming a firefighter? Am I shortchanging Mia—and myself?”
I stare down at my bite, setting my fork back on my plate and swallowing the lump in my throat.
“Are you kidding me?” Avery asks, her voice loud enough to draw a few turned heads.
I pop my bite in my mouth and shake my head. I’m not kidding. It’s a question I've been rolling through my mind ever since we moved here. Was this the right decision? Will Mia find true friends? Is this schedule too chaotic for her—for me?
“Girl.” My sister sets her fork on her plate and braces her hands on the table. “You are a rock star. You’ve had it in you to do something like this since we were kids. Sure, you worked in Dr. Fast’s office. And you loved being a part of his pediatric practice. But you were never meant to be behind a desk. Working at the school once Mia started there made sense. But you shelved a piece of yourself to do those jobs. Firefighting? That’s so you. And Mia will adjust to the move and the schedule. She’s resilient.”
I sigh, feeling tears of relief well in my eyes. I dab at them with a corner of my napkin. “Thank you.”
“Of course. I’m not just blowing smoke, either. You rock. I’m so proud of you. And, I was also going to say, if you need Mom to have a sleepover at my place anytime—just to give you some breathing room—say the word.”
“Like, a week-long sleepover?” I joke.
“Maybe a weekend,” Avery retorts.
We both laugh.
“Going to baseball practice will be so good for you,” she says, taking a sip of her tea. “You’ll prove to yourself that you can juggle all the things—work, motherhood, life … And …” There’s a glint in her eye. “Now you’ll get to see the coach.”
