Olivia sighed. “Don’t get my hopes up. I gave up long ago on another daughter-in-law and more grandchildren.” She paused and turned devilishly to Tilley again. “But, well, we’ve certainly made a match or two in the past.”
“And with me embodying one of the world’s most famous matchmakers, I think now just might be the time to do it again!” Tilley trilled.
All three laughed. “Well then,” Elizabeth said, “we don’t care what Mason says. Tilley, you and Daisy are tight. You invite her.”
Tilley nodded. “Perfect. I will indeed.” She paused and casually added, “So, it will be the family plus Daisy. Anyone else?” She crossed the fingers on one hand.
“Oh!” Elizabeth said. “George is coming! He let me know for sure that he wouldn’t be going to California to see his daughter. So we need to set an extra place at the table.” Elizabeth caught Tilley’s eye in the rearview mirror. “And, of course, could you make sure his rooms at Dogwood are pristine and perfect? Parker and Amelia are so busy I can’t really depend on them for that.”
Inside, Tilley was practically singing. Butterflies were dancing in her stomach. George was coming back! He had helped Amelia and Parker purchase Dogwood expressly because he wanted a large homeso that he could have his own reserved bedroom, bathroom, and office—out of everyone’s way—for when he came to visit his grandchildren. For years, his frequent appearances had been less than a blip on the radar for Tilley. But there was no doubt that something had shifted between them during their last meeting. She only hoped he had felt it too.
Tilley nodded. “There is quite a lot to do, and I know you two can’t be on tap to have to haul me around.” She sat up straighter, deciding something. “Elizabeth, Olivia. I think I will start driving again.”
Tilley wasn’t old. Not in anyone’s estimation, except perhaps, every now and then, her own. She certainly wasn’t even near an age where one would consider taking her driver’s license. And, yet, for all these years, since Robert died, she hadn’t felt the urge or need to drive. What was happening to her now? It was an awakening—and just in time for Easter.
Olivia and Elizabeth shared a glance.
Elizabeth was her sister, yes. But Olivia was almost as close to her. So it was she who said, “How about we get Mason to drive with you a little and then you decide if you’re ready for that step?”
“Why Mason?” Tilley asked.
“Because he obviously has cheated death many times,” Elizabeth interjected.
All the women laughed. Tilley knew this was only good-natured ribbing. “I will have you know that I hadn’t danced in longer than I haven’t driven, and I picked that right back up.”
“Did you ever!” Olivia enthused. “Oh, Tilley. This town just isn’t going to believe it when they see you. You will be the talk of Cape Carolina.”
“And for something good this time!” Elizabeth said.
“Tilley, I believe you’ve gotten your groove back,” Olivia said.
“You know something, Olivia, I believe I have too,” Tilley agreed.
She believed that with all her heart. But, if Tilley had learned anything in this life, it was that we never knew what was lurking around the corner. For years, she had worried about one big secret coming to light. She spent so much time worrying about it, holding it close, that it was as if she’d willed it to stay in the dark. But, for now, she had mostly forgotten about it. And maybe that was her first big mistake.
DAISYSafe Place
Today was the best day of my life. People exaggerate when they say things like that, but I was not exaggerating. I was in a committed relationship with a man I was so over-the-moon for that I could scarcely think about anything else. Anything else, that is, besides the little girl who was moving into my house today.
My phone beeped with a message from my dad:
Don’t forget to send me pictures! Can’t wait to meet your Maisy!
My Maisy. I held the phone to my chest. What a lovely thought.
I sprayed the already-clean countertops and wiped them off. I reorganized the diapers on the changing table—again. Then I looked up over the crib. The ballet slippers. Painted by the mother who had left me, who I had totally lost my cool in front of. I hated myself for that. I hated myself more for not being able to take those ballet slippers down. I hated myself for loving them so much. I hated myself for feeling like getting to have these slippers—painted by my mother—was a link between us that could bridge a gap.
If I thought about it like an adult, of course that was a good thing. What could be better than putting a family back together? But I wasn’ttruly capable of thinking of it like an adult because, when it came to Julie, I would always be a child. A part of me would always be the lost, wounded little girl whose mother did not want her, who was left by the person who was supposed to love her most. I wanted to heal that in myself. And maybe time would. Maybe being back here with her would. But what I could be sure of was that by taking Maisy in, by making her safe, at least for a little while, I could prevent some tiny part of that for her. She was wanted.
A car door slammed, and I practically sprinted to the driveway. Allison was getting Maisy out of the car. I actually jumped up and down, I was so excited to see her. I was already dreading having to take her to day care Monday. And Tuesday. And Wednesday. But then she was all mine again! This was going to be great. No. I tempered my thoughts. She was a baby. She would be up in the middle of the night, and I would be exhausted and then working twelve-hour shifts. It would be hard. But it would be worth it.
“Thank you for taking her,” Allison said, smiling as she cradled Maisy. I wanted to take her, but she didn’t seem to be ready to let her go, so, instead, I made my way toward the house, and Allison followed.
Allison smiled as she crossed the threshold. “It really is so nice in here, Daisy. You must be so happy.”
As she said “happy,” my heart felt like it might burst.
“I really am,” I said. “And Maisy completes the picture.”
