I closed my eyes, trying not to let her see my fear. My insecurity was hurting her; I knew that. But she’d been through so much. We both had, and I couldn’t bear to be let down again. Couldn’t handle her being hurt again.
“Fine, we can give it a try,” I relented.
What I wanted to say was that my daughter didn’t need anyone but me. I would never hurt her. Never betray her the way so-calledfriendswould. I wanted to spare her the pain and rejection of someone close to you sticking a knife in your back.
Frankie ran at me and threw her arms around my waist. I held on to her a little tighter than usual. She was growing up, and one day she would leave me. She’d go off to college or get married and start a family of her own. I didn’t want to lose my little girl.
“Go get dressed before I change my mind.”
Frankie kissed my cheek and dashed down the hall to her bedroom. I didn’t have to look at Slyce to see the smirk. She knew as well as I did that it was nigh on impossible for me to tell Frankie no.
“It’s just breakfast, you know.”
“I know,” I replied with a heavy sigh. “But at the same time, it isn’t. If we start to meet people, get to know them... I’m opening her up to be hurt again.”
“You can’t shelter her from emotional pain. It’s there no matter what. Either she stays home with you and lives her life always wondering what’s on the other side of that door, maybe growing to resent you, or worse, when she’s an adult she leaves forever. Or she gets out into the world and meets friends who may hurt her or could be the best thing that ever happens to her.”
“They will hurt her,” I muttered. “They always do.”
“And you’ll be here to pick up the pieces.”
Slyce moved closer to where I stood. “I know finding out Richard and Stacy got married hurt, but neither one of them deserved to be in your life anymore. You have to let them both go and try not to let it paint every other person you meet in a bad light.” She tilted her head to the side. “Or are you afraid you’ll lose her? Frankie loves you more than anyone in the world, Kat. You’re her mom.”
When I didn’t respond, Slyce blew out a frustrated breath and walked to the front door. “I’ll be waiting outside.”
I sat down to put on my boots. The weather was getting cooler, and it forced me to put my sandals away. Once I finished tying the laces, I grabbed the thick flannel shirt I kept on the hook. Frankie appeared with a big smile on her face.
“I’m getting the biggest stack of pancakes they have,” she boasted. “And bacon.”
“Of course, bacon. It’s not breakfast without bacon.”
I followed my daughter outside, inhaling a deep breath. We’d lived in Diamond Creek for months now, and we hadn’t been anywhere since the night we moved into this house.
I’d always wanted to be a mom. The day the doctor told me it would never be possible was the day I gave up. For almost twoyears, we tried to have a baby. I’d been pregnant three times, and all three times had ended in miscarriage.
The doctors couldn’t tell me why. Their only answer was thatthese things happened—until I met Dr. Adams. He was a new OBGYN in the area, but I’d only heard great things about him. He was younger than I’d expected, newly licensed in his specialty, but he ran tests on both Richard and me, and that was when he found it.
Severe Adenomyosis.
A rare condition where endometrial tissue grows deep into the uterine muscle, often doubling or tripling its size. Dr. Adams had brought in specialists who confirmed that even with treatment, the scar tissue would prevent implantation.
The only cure was a hysterectomy.
I thought my life was over.
Then I met a woman named Francine Fredricks. She was a social worker who worked with child services, placing children in foster homes.
She sat with me for hours explaining the program’s benefits for not only the children but the parents as well. The initial goal was always reconciliation with one or both parents, but that wasn’t always possible, and in those cases, the foster parents had the option to adopt.
Richard had been on board without a fuss. It should have been a red flag, especially when we were filling out the paperwork and he only wanted to foster girls. When Miss Fredricks asked about it, I explained it away, saying he grew up with only his mom and two younger sisters. He was comfortable raising a girl.
I should have known, especially since his sisters had nothing to do with him. They’d cut off contact with him years before I met him. He brushed it off, saying they’d gotten involved with a bad crowd.
I didn’t listen to the little voice inside my head, and Frankie had paid the price.
We walked to the diner. Diamond Creek was a small map-dot town; it had one main street that held everything the town needed. A hair salon, a hardware store, a boutique, a bakery, and more.
The Diner sat at the end of Main Street, meaning we had to pass by every shop in town. Frankie’s animated chatter made me smile as she talked to Slyce about where they should go first after breakfast.
