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But I was walking away from the idea of perfection. Stains and wrinkles would become my everyday normal.

I felt like a zombie the next morning, getting Sage breakfast and sending her out the door after she packed all her stuff in the back of the SUV. Then it was the boys. I got them dressed and drove out to the elementary a mile away from Hoar House. I shook my head because it was not a great name. Not that it was going to be our permanent house, just a stop on my way to becoming self-sufficient and independent.

But it would be a long journey from where I currently was.

The boy’s new principal—a short, plump man—was so very nice as he shook my boys’ hands, and they were as perfectly polite as I’d taught them to be.

“Welcome to Harrison school. Where did you just move to?”

“We’re renting out on Hoar road.”

“The frost, not the slut,” James said with absolute seriousness, like he didn’t have the slightest idea that he shouldn’t say slut to a principal.

“Ah,” the cheerful principal said, rocking on his heels and nodding. “All the way out there? There are only a few people out that way, but it’s a good area. Lots of space to explore. You two look like great explorers!”

The twins exchanged a look then glanced at me. I smiled at them in a way that made them stiffen up slightly. If they caused mischief for their teachers or other students, there would be hell to pay. And no exploring behind the house after school tonight.

“Thank you so much for making this move so painless for us. And they can start now?” I said with a polite smile that was helped by the fact that I’d remembered to put makeup on today.

“Of course. We’ll take care of everything. You just fill out these forms.” He handed me a tablet. “We’re all digital these days. You know, to save the trees.”

“Trees are important.”

He beamed at me. Clearly that was the right response. “Just give it to Janie when you’re finished, and then she’ll take your kids to their class.”

I took the boys into the waiting room and filled out the digital forms while they sat politely, exchanging looks every once in a while like they could have whole conversations without saying a word. I was envious of them having someone so close. I’d never been like that with Clark. Or anyone. Perfection didn’t allow true intimacy. Was it asking too much to have one person who felt like home?

I shook my head and focused on the form. When I was finished, I handed it to the pretty secretary, who smiled at me. “Thanks, Mrs. Cooper. Your kids will fit in just fine in Harrison. Don’t worry about a thing. I saw that they were in all the advanced classes at Market. We’ll be sure they aren’t bored.”

I glanced at the boys. I didn’t worry about them as much as I worried about the school if they decided it wasn’t teaching them anything. “Thank you.” I ruffled James’s hair, and he gave me a fierce grin that I almost returned. He was excited about this change. About the house, about a school where no one knew them.

“Have fun,” I said looking at both sets of blue eyes.

“Not too much fun,” Jerome said, eyes twinkling.

“No, not too much fun.”

I left the school, past the walls painted with happy illustrations of plants and book characters. It had a good feel to it, happy, safe, like the house.

I drove up the long drive past the cemetery and stared at the headstones while my old fascination raised its head and whispered that it looked like a good place to cry and write depressing poetry in my journal.

“Maybe after I clean the kitchen,” I said out loud. “Also, I don’t have a journal.”

I drove up to the porch, parking right in front so I could unload the car. It took half a dozen trips to get all the bags and boxes into their appropriate rooms. The boys chose to share a large room with a bunkbed instead of one of the extra rooms. Sage’s room was like stepping into an old movie, the walls water-colored in faded shades of blue and purple butterflies and flowers with twining plants. The bed already had a pretty quilt on it.

I left her boxes and bags and stared at the bed. I’d have to change the linens to the ones from her room I’d just washed. But I’d need to wash that old quilt and all the sheets. And dust. Everything needed dusting. Where should I start?

I left her room and went to the master bedroom with its enormous bed surrounded by drapes. The walls were cool white, bare, empty of personality or life. I needed to clean. I needed to take care of everything, but the emptiness of that room called to me.

I wanted to be empty instead of full of pain.

I kicked off my shoes, pulled off my clothes and dropped them as I walked towards that enormous bed. I flopped across the old dusty coverlet, climbed in the fluffy layers to the cool black sheets, pulled it over my head and let the world fade away.

“Mom! Are you sleeping?” Sage asked, throwing open the curtains that cast the room in complete darkness.

“I was,” I grumbled as I pushed back the blankets and blinked at her. “Is it after school already?”

She smiled brightly as she looked outside. “It’s almost sunset. I can’t get the lights to work, or I would’ve let you sleep.” She picked up my clothes and tossed them at me. “You need to text Ray of Sunshine to come and fix it.”