“I know, Amelia,” I drone. I pick up the phone, then open the door of the apartment to step out into the courtyard. “Look, I’m on my way to have an adventure right now!”
Minnie squints, like she’s trying to decide if this counts, and finally relents. “Okay... So, how’s the new place?”
I flip my camera around to show Minnie the courtyard and the building.
“Ooh! Nice!” she says. “There’s a spot right in the middle to sit? Do they let you grow things out there? What kind...Whoa.”
Her tone changes, and I see on my phone’s screen that as I was panning over, the door of my across-the-courtyard neighbor opened and a tall brunette stepped out. There’s a man with her, and judging by his bare feet and unkempt hair, he’s the one who lives there.
Miles.
“Scandal!” Minnie whispers.
I click the button to turn the video back around, eliciting an “Aww, comeon...” from Minnie. I face the phone in a different direction to give the impression that I’m not filming them, aware that I might be creeping on a private moment. Still, I can’t help but toss a sideways glance in their direction.
The man I assume is Miles gives the woman a quick hug—not a romantic one—and then lifts a hand in a wave. The whole scene turns awkwardly platonic.
“Is that your neighbor? Did you just film a walk of shame?”
“It’s 5:00 p.m.,” I say. “So I hope not.”
She giggles. “He looked kind of hot?”
“Amelia Joy!” I glance back up and find the man standing in his doorway, watching me.
I hear Minnie quip, “Yikes, whipping out the middle name, that’s bold...” as the man lifts his hand in that same lazy wave.I wave back, feeling conflicted about whether to go introduce myself.
I’m almost thankful when he doesn’t give me the chance. He closes his door, and the woman disappears through the front gate.
“You know, since we’re talking about you having adventures...”
I groan, worried I know where this is headed.
“You’re going to start dating again, right?” Minnie asks. “Because I—”
“Minnie—”
“What? It’s not like Dad’s wasting any time moving on.”
“Dad moved on while we were still married,” I say dryly, then hold up a hand as if to suggest I’m taking that back. “Sorry. I’m not trying to be ugly about your dad. Not to you anyway.”
“He cheated on me too,” she says plainly.
That revelation stops me.
“He did, didn’t he,” I say, almost to myself.
There’s a sadness behind her smile, and I recognize it because I feel it too.
I’d much rather connect with my daughter over literally any other subject... but for now, this is where we are. Someday, hopefully, we’ll both get past it.
She’s sitting on her bed in her little dorm room in England, and I wish I could jump through the screen and hug her.
“I’m proud of you, Mom.”
The words catch me so off guard, I stop moving. I’m frozen on the sidewalk just a few yards from the front gate, staring at her face on the screen in my hand. “You are?”
“Yeah. You’ve had a lot of crap to deal with in the last year. But this change? This one’s good,” she says. “It’s the first one that feels like a choice.”
