“I-I don’t know. He said he did, and I’d give anything to believe him, but there’s just so much he keeps from me,” I tell her, my stomach clenching as I circle closer to the crux of why I can’t be with him.
“He’s lied to you before?” she asks, her voice getting sharper.
“Not outright. Not as far as I know,” I answer. “But he’s never fully opened up, either. He shows me bits and pieces, but when it comes down to really knowing him, he always has his guard up.”
I don’t mention my lingering anger over the fact that he’s going through with a sale that will be incredibly profitable for him, at the expense of Agatha’s legacy. It’s just too overwhelming to explain, so instead, I say, “In some ways, he’s the most selfless person I’ve ever met. He treats all the damaged parts of me like they’re just as precious as the polished pieces. But because there’s so much hedoesn’tshare, I have no explanation for why some of his decisions seem so selfish.”
I rub my forehead as a headache begins to throb above my eyes. “Ican’t be with someone who doesn’t trust me with their own rougher edges. If I’m going to give my whole heart to someone, I can’t settle for only half of his in return.”
My mom nods. “I know it’s hard to let go of a love that isn’t good for you, sweetheart. Doing the right thing is hardly ever easy, and you’ve been doing a lot of that lately.” She squeezes my hand. “But if Jude is as selfless as you say he is, and these decisions he’s making have an explanation he’s been too afraid to share, then he’llfinda way to open up to you.”
I rest my forehead in my hand. “I don’t know, Mom. He doesn’t even open up to his best friend, and they’ve known each other half their lives.”
“We’ll just have to see, I guess. The ball’s in Jude’s court,” she says, letting go of me and lightly slapping her hands onto her knees. “The big question is, what’s going to giveyouthe comeback you need?”
“Am I being coached right now?”
“Damn right. About time you had a little help from me.” She gives me a sudden, quizzical look. “Speaking of help, what does Sofia have to say about all this?”
I take a sip of my smoothie, delaying my answer. “I, uh, haven’t talked to her about it yet.”
My mom’s eyes widen. “But you two are inseparable. Did something happen?”
I want to brush off her question with a breezyNo, of course not!But I’ve already told her everything else—why not this, too?
“Things are better… but we’re recovering from a rough patch,” I say. As succinctly as I can, I tell her about Sofia’s parents splitting up, the disillusionment I’ve been wrestling with ever since, and my fear of reopening Grace & Veil, despite her encouragement.
“I just haven’t been able to bring myself to tell her what happened,” I admit. “She’s going through somethingsohard right now, and I don’t want to add to her plate again while she’s the one who needs support.”
My mom takes a big swig of her smoothie, nearly finishing it. “Then don’t add to it,” she says simply, setting her glass down. “You can still tell her what happened without being needy. Just handle your shit so she doesn’t have to. You’re an event planner, aren’t you? Makea five-year plan for yourself and make sure it brings youjoy. She’s your best friend. Seeing you happy and fulfilled—or at least on your way there—will go a long way in calming the waters.”
I nod, amazed by my mom’s unexpected wisdom and grasp on to the idea of a five-year plan like a life raft. “I can do that,” I say, already imagining the color-coded spreadsheets I’ll make. Unsurprisingly, there’s no sign of the assistant banquet manager position in my fantasy, but therearefresh bolts of fabric and dusted-off lists of manufacturing contacts.
My mom smiles at me like she can see the wheels turning in my mind. “See? That’s not too hard. But I am sorry about her parents, Gracie.” Her smile becomes pained and self-conscious. “I know you’re close with them.”
My racing mind sobers at once as I realize it’s been over a week since I checked in with her about her family. “I need to call her.”
She nods. “Yes, you do. Check on her, but also make sure you confide in her. She would want you to.”
I swallow hard. “I will. Thanks, Mom.”
Her eyes are sparkly with unshed moisture. “Anytime. Just do me a favor.”
“What’s that?”
“Get back in the game, Gracie. Find a studio space and stop pretending that sewing isn’t the one thing that’s always made you happiest. No one likes a chickenshit.”
I smile with tears in my eyes and lift my smoothie glass. “To not being a chickenshit.”
My mom clinks her glass to mine. “That’s my girl.”
And as rickety as it is, the rope swing holds.
40JUDE
Hi Jude,
Congratulations—the owner just accepted your offer on the cottage. Time to pop the champagne! You mentioned hiring a proxy to be present at the closing in your stead. Send me their contact information, and I’ll get the ball rolling. Thanks!
