"I feel like I should say thank you, since they’ll be easy to put down to bed. But you also kinda stole my wife on my first night off in three days." Sebastian winks at me, leaning to kiss Mal on the cheek.
"Honestly, you’re welcome for both." I grin back at my brother-in-law. "If you’ve been on shift that long fighting fires or saving cats from trees, I’m sure you could use the rest instead of whatever else you’d be doing." My sister and her husband both laugh. We all know what they’d be doing—four kids under eight only happen one way.
"Don’t worry, Seb. She might have snuck into town without telling anyone, but I already texted Howie." My sister winks at me, then turns to walk him out. Howie, my cousin, has always been my best friend. But I haven’t seen him in a long time, so telling him before I had the chance was a dirty move, and sheknowsit.
As Mal sends Sebastian off, my mom sinks down into her rocking chair, and Beth takes the seat next to her. "I’m glad you’re home, my girl." She reaches for one of the bottles, sticks a wine key in, and removes the cork. "But now that it’s just us, you’re going to explain yourself."
I follow her lead and snag the bottle, filling my glass higher than what would be considered an average pour. My family won’t be upset with me—it’s not that. I just don’t like admitting I need help. I left home and created my career through nothing other thanmyblood, sweat, and tears. It’s all mine, but that also means that I have to own the meltdown, too.
As the first hit of tangy red wine bursts on my tongue and warmth floods my veins, Beth releases a breath that comes out sounding like she’s been holding onto it for too long.
"Sadie, why did you sneak into town without letting us know you were coming?" Beth asks, with a hint of curiosity and something else I can’t pinpoint in her voice. My sister slides into her chair, crossing her arms like she means business.
Beth is a family friend. Her relationship started with my mom back when Mal was just a baby, but she and I have been close since the minute I was born. I wouldn’t call her an aunt perse, but more of a best friend to each of us in our own way. For Mom, she helped her navigate having two young kids and then the journey to being a single mother when our dad walked out. Mal and Beth talked a lot when she was in high school, as Beth became her guide for dating, dealing with mean girls, and choosing an alternative education path that didn’t include college. Yet, for me, Beth has been more of a lifelong confidante. From the time I was little, she was always there to wipe my tears or kiss a skinned knee. When I got older, she gave me a job at her diner waiting tables and became the keeper of all my secrets.
"Sorry Bethy. I just, well… it wasn’t really planned." I tap my fingers lightly on the edge of my chair.
"Sade, just tell us already. I can’t take the suspense," Mal whines. She’s got an eyebrow raised and her legs crossed, challenging me to get on with it.
I take another sip of my wine, leaning forward to place it on the glass table that sits between us. "Okay, fine. I’m on leave from work."
"Like PTO?" my mom asks, confusion etched on her face. She tucks a chunk of hair behind her ear and sips her wine.
Beth rolls her eyes. "No, it’s not PTO, Dee Dee. She’s in trouble." I rear back, shocked that she somehow knows what’s going on and at the audacity she has to call me out so boldly. "Go on, Sadie Marie, tell them what happened."
I look at her, staring into her eyes like that will help me figure out how she already knows. But this is typical of her. She’s always had a weird way of knowing things, and telling them what happenedisinevitable. "I sorta had a tiny panic attack from all the stress of adding on two more kids to the program, and my boss found me soaked in sweat in my office." The pressure eases in my chest as the words release from my body.
"Jesus, with all the build-up, I wasn’t sure if you were going to admit to murdering one of the NHL players," Mal finally chimesin after tamping down a burst of laughter. "Panic attacks are totally normal. I get them all the time."
"You do?" My mother turns her attention to my sister with even more concern on her face.
"Oh please, Mom. It’s not like you don’t. It’s part of our allure." Mal waves her hand in the air. "Our neurospicy blend of ADHD and anxiety makes for quite the party."
"There’s nothing wrong with being a little spicy, if you ask me. That’s what makes you three of my favorite people." Beth raises a wine bottle in the air while popping a cracker from the still-lingering charcuterie board into her mouth.
"Yeah, the problem is… you know how hard I’ve worked to build this program. Levi told me I had to take a leave of absence. It wasn’t a choice." I look at each of them, trying to convey how nervous I am that he won’t let me come back from this. "What if he—"
"Stop!" My mom shifts forward in her chair. "There is no way he’s not bringing you back after this leave. You’ve workedtoohard fortoolong."
While I appreciate the support and sentiment from my mother, it isn’t really that simple. Yes, I helped create the program—our annual gala was essentially my idea. But his fiancée is on staff and could absolutely take over running it in my absence—nepotism has its perks.
"When was the last time you went out with friends? Or on a date?" Beth’s question throws me a bit. My social life has nothing to do with being on leave from work.
"It’s been a while." I cover my face with my hands briefly, releasing a strangled breath when I make eye contact once again. "If I’m being honest, my boss has been nagging at me for the last year or more about my work-life balance. Levi’s always going on about how only having a career and nothing else doesn’t make a full life."
"I mean, you told my kids a story about a corporate princess whose boss was pressuring her to become a butterfly to close a deal." My sister smirks into her glass, finding amusement in my lack of a life outside of work.
Beth’s eyes are sympathetic when she looks at me, and it makes me feel worse. I don’t want or need anyone’s pity. I only need to get back to work, organize everything so the pile isn’t too heavy to carry, and continue to put one foot in front of the other. I’ll re-evaluate after next season.
Our conversation continues, switching from my situation to what the rest of them have been up to recently. My mom tells a story about how my niece, Poppy, doesn’t like to wear clothes and apparently stripped mid-grocery. I can’t help but admire her free spirit. Poppy’s always doing whatever she feels like with no consideration of what the world might think.
"—and there she was, throwing a fit because I told her it wasn’t appropriate to show our lady bits in the potato chip aisle," my mom finishes while Mal covers her face, and I bite my cheek trying not to laugh too hard.
Beth has grown quiet, not piping in to add color to the story as she usually does, and just as I’m ready to comment—to ask what’s wrong—she stands.
"Sadie, will you walk me out?" Beth moves closer, reaching for my hand.
"Oh, uh, sure." I scramble out of my chair, the wine buzzing a little harder than I’d realized when my feet hit the patio. I follow her out after she bids my mom and sister farewell.
