Page 6 of Hearts on the Mend

“Ruby!”

My six-year-old jolts awake, sticks out her tongue, then giggles. “I’m not sleeping.”

“Show me then.” I toss on my directional, and the tires slip on the patch of icy slush along the back road. I’m used to driving in snow; it’s not new to me, but we’ve been driving for three days. Hell, my eyes are barely staying open.

I reach for my Alani in the cupholder, frowning when I realize it’s empty, then toss it with the mountain of others on the floor of the passenger side.

Almost there, almost…

Ruby’s head dips toward her chest.

It’s a Hail Mary, and I’m sure I won’t be in the running for any Mom of the Year awards, but I blow a giant raspberry that earns more giggles from the back seat.

Sometimes, you’ve got to meet them where they are, and potty humor is infinitely funny to my daughter.

“Oh, I can see the house! Can you see it?”

“Mm-hmm,” she murmurs.

The road curves, revealing a giant white farmhouse set back up on a hill. The January snow is deep, and the light is waning, but the greenery surrounding the old foundation looks overgrown.

“We’re home,” I practically sing, forcing cheer into my voice. The Jeep’s tires spin in the snow at the bottom of the driveway, but luckily, the rest is clear.

It’s funny, when you’re younger, you expect that the adults in your life have their shit together. But at thirty-five, I’m learning they were liars.

Nothing about my life makes sense right now.

“Ruby?”

I turn off the ignition and unbuckle, twisting around to my daughter softly snoring in the back seat.

Damn it.

My Sorels slip in the soft powder covering the gravel drive when I jump out. My breath curls around me in the cold, salty air.

It’s been almost a year since I was last in Merritt Point. I never thought I’d be back after helping my aunt pack up some of her things before she moved to Florida. But divorce changed everything.

I’m still battling my soon-to-be ex, broke as hell, and now moving back east to make sure Ruby still has a relationship with her father, even if I want nothing to do with the man.

Funny how quickly your heart changes direction.

I blow into my hands, my fingers stinging from the cold, before I open the rear passenger door.

“Wake up, monkey. Let’s find your new room.”

Her head shoots up, and she glares at me, tears fresh in her green eyes. I knew this would happen. It always does. “I m-miss Daddy,” she cries.

“I know.” I know she hates me and I’ve probably ruined her life. Sure feels like I’ve ruined mine. “You can see him this weekend.”

“Why can’t he stay with us? This place is huge.”

“Mom and Dad aren’t living together anymore, but we love⁠—”

“Mom!” she yells, shoving aside my hand as I fumble with the car seat strap. “I can do it.”

Fine. Hopefully, I mask the hurt on my face. “Well, come on.” We just need to head inside and see what I’ve landed myself in.

She grumbles, then slips out of her seat, stepping on the pile of Mo Willems books I definitely asked her to pick up. “Oh no!”