Throughout Anne’s childhood, when conflicts arose – as they often and inevitably did in a family as big as theirs – her dad would sit them down and demand that they make amends.
You’re teammates for life,he would tell them.Now make it right.
Anne looked across the table at her daughter. Zoe was staring down at her empty cereal bowl. Her hands were curled into fists on the tabletop.
Dawn sat down beside her and gently uncurled one of her fists.
“You can’t keep holding onto this,” she said. “It’s making you sick.”
She was right. Zoe looked unwell. There were dark circles under her eyes and a sallow tint to her copper skin. Was that Anne’s fault? Was she really causing her daughter that much stress, just by being there?
“I’m sorry,” she said in a voice thick with remorse. “I’m so sorry that I wasn’t here for you.”
Zoe screwed her eyes shut.
“Please forgive me,” Anne said, her voice breaking.
“I don’t know how.” Tears spilled from Zoe’s eyes, and Anne’s heart broke a little bit more. “But I’ll try.”
“Thank you.” Anne hesitated, then asked, “Can I give you a hug?”
She was shocked when Zoe nodded.
Anne walked around the table, and Zoe stood. She wrapped her arms around her daughter, her baby who was bigger than she was. For a moment Zoe stood stiff as a statue. Then, slowly, she melted into her.
“I love you,” Anne told her daughter.
Zoe didn’t say anything back – but she didn’t pull away, either.
And that was enough.
21
Oakley
When the first day of school came back around, Oakley sent her girls off with a heavy heart.
It wasn’t so bad when they were little. Hayden’s kindergarten days gave her time with friends while Harper had one-on-one time with Mama.
Then they were both in school, which was a great opportunity for Oakley to establish herself in a new career; she taught Pilates part time and then spent every afternoon and bedtime and weekend with her daughters.
Then somehow, slowly, year by year, their schedule had become a bloated mess. All of their time outside of school was crowded with homework and extracurriculars and classmates’ birthday parties. At times it felt as though she had been demoted from mother to chauffeur.
This year, she was determined to reclaim some of those hours. The girls agreed to take a break from soccer that year, and weekends would be dedicated to family time.
That first Friday after school, they drove straight down to Pualena for a weekend with the family. The spare rooms were all booked, so the kids would pile into grandma’s room for a sleepover, and Oakley would bunk with Anne.
“Are you sure you don’t want to join us?” she asked Trent for the upteenth time that week.
“I’m good here.” He shot her a smile from behind his computer. “Thanks anyway.”
“The girls would love it.”
“They already know that I’m not coming.”
“You could come with me to school pickup and surprise them.”
“They don’t care if I go. They just want to run around with their cousins.”
