by Beck, Jamie
“I never need an apology from you, but I’m happy that you trusted me enough today to talk.” Mom’s warbled words and dewy eyes produced a lump in my throat. “Maybe you could use some time to yourself now to consider how to do the same for yourself and the other people you love.”
A lifetime of misunderstandings, of never saying the real things, undone in less than an hour.
She rose and took her cup to the dishwasher, leaving me to sit in silence and process how our past had hurt us for too long, and what I needed to do to make sure it didn’t destroy my future.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
GRACE
The next evening
The Phillips home
I finished cleaning up after dinner with Kim, shaking my hands out each time I glanced at the clock. Sam would arrive soon. While Kim had welcomed my return, Sam might not consider it a pleasant surprise.
Sam’s place setting looked incomplete, so I set a glass of pinot noir by the plate. My stomach fluttered impatiently. After tapping my toes for a few seconds, I readjusted the pink roses I’d put in the table vase and then went to the powder room to fix my hair and apply lip gloss.
On my way back to the kitchen, I passed a dozen family photographs in coordinated silver frames hanging on the wall. From christenings to holiday meals to my favorite candid images, my most beloved faces smiled at me, looking like a perfect American family. The nearly sixteen years spent providing my kids exactly the kind of upbringing that I didn’t get—a safe, respectful, loving home—seemed evident in each image.
And yet in less than two months, I’d nearly destroyed it by compounding my mistakes. Now I could only hope Sam and I could start over—this time striving for openness and acceptance rather than perfection and safety.
With nothing to do but wait, I sat with my hands folded on the table and watched the clock. My stomach flipped when the garage door rumbled open. Sam would see my car, which would give him a moment to compose himself.
Perspiration caused my shirt to stick to my back. It seemed like forever before he came inside.
“Grace.” He looked at me with an uncertain gaze, looking sharp in his navy suit and pink pinstriped shirt. Although it had been only thirty-six hours, seeing him brought on a rush of love and longing. “Where’s Kim?”
Not a warm welcome, but I wouldn’t condemn him. He had no idea what to expect. My recent track record was inconsistent, to say the least.
“Upstairs. She finished her homework, so I let her have some screen time.” I rose on unsteady legs. “I made that orecchiette you like, with the sausage and broccoli rabe. Are you hungry?”
“Yes, thank you.” He set his briefcase down, which was when he noticed my suitcase by the wall. He paused, offering no sign of his feelings about that. “I didn’t expect to see you tonight. Has something happened with Carter?”
No smile. No open arms. It occurred to me that, while I’d spent the past day evaluating myself and missing home, perhaps he’d been relieved by my absence. That knocked the wind from me, but I had to take the chance that he hadn’t fully closed his heart to me.
“No.” I plated some pasta and set it in the microwave before meeting his gaze, trying to project my love through my eyes. “I missed Kim, and you.”
Sam’s responding smile looked almost bittersweet. “Kim must’ve been happy to see you.” He sat at the table, maintaining a somewhat wary expression. “You look good, Gracie . . . rested.”
“I’m feeling clearer.” I set the hot dish in front of him. Rather than force a hug or kiss hello, I took my seat, my body buzzing with nervous anticipation.
“This smells delicious. Thank you.” He hesitated. “Did you have trouble with your mother?”
“No. In fact, we had a breakthrough. After all these years we finally spoke openly about my dad, Margot, and my childhood. We spilled our regrets and . . . just everything.” I held my breath, still marveling at how freeing it had been.
His eyes widened exponentially above a cautious smile. “I’m happy for you. That was long overdue.”
I nodded. “All my life there’s been a hard knot in my heart—one tied tight with resentment and guilt. I resented her for not protecting Margot and me, I resented Margot for putting Mom and me through the same stuff my father had, and yet I felt guilty that I’d never once done anything to combat any of it. But Carter’s situation has made me realize that my mom had been living in crisis mode and doing the best she could, as I’ve tried my best these past several weeks yet failed in many ways.”
Sam’s gaze remained glued to me. He spread his hands flat on the table. “That’s a little harsh. Making mistakes isn’t the same as failure.”
“Maybe not always, but I’ve struggled. What’s happened was one of my worst parenting fears. Seeing him lying still and frightened on the ground—that image still haunts me when I close my eyes. Watching him labor with pain or to walk is grueling to endure, and knowing that we might’ve prevented it with one or two different decisions still guts me. That broke something in me, like a dam where all my childhood sense of injustice, guilt, and helplessness poured out and fused with this situation. I felt I’d failed to keep my vow to protect our kids. I can’t go back and save my sister, but I think I thought that I could rectify all wrongs where Carter was concerned and that doing so would make what’s happened hurt us all less.” I stopped rambling, taking a breath.
Sam had leaned forward, intently watching me and waiting. He seemed deep in his own thoughts, his expression more pensive than emotional.
I fought my doubts, determined to convince him to trust in us again. “I spent last night in my old bed, missing you. Thinking about motherhood and marriage, humanity and mistakes, forgiveness—and fate. Since the accident, you all kept saying that we can’t control the outcomes of our decisions, and we have to learn to roll with it. I resisted that because I’ve been fixated on preventing history from repeating itself.”
“That makes sense.” He smiled encouragingly, more focused on me than his favorite meal. A good sign. “So how does that affect us now and in the future?”
I drew in a breath, shaking my hands out beneath the table. “I now accept that many things contributed to Carter’s injury, including his decision to stay despite the bullying. But if he isn’t holding grudges—against us or those boys or himself—how can I?” I looked straight into Sam’s blue eyes. “You were right. My attitude—my anger and vengeance—has hurt his recovery and hurt people I love, but I’m determined to change. From the day we met, you’ve been my touchstone, and I’m so sorry I’ve hurt you. But mine aren’t the only feelings that matter, so I’m curious about what you think. How do you see us moving forward?”
He crossed his arms as if holding himself. His eyes were dewy, his expression conflicted. “First, I’m sorry I didn’t put myself in your shoes sooner. You saw Carter on the ground and terrified, I didn’t. You felt pressured into letting him go to that party because I broke our pact, not the other way around. I could’ve been more patient and less demanding while you worked through all this. I’ve been so afraid of everything slipping away I panicked. For all that, I’m sorry. I know you’ve been scared and doing your best, even when we didn’t agree. I love you, babe. I’ll always love you, and I’m sorry if my actions made you doubt that.”
Warm tears pricked my eyes because he’d finally acknowledged that. For the first time since we sat down, I let myself believe we would find our way forward. “Thank you. It really helps to hear you say all that.”
He wiped a tear from his cheek. “The thing is, Gracie, what if our apologies and love aren’t enough? Can you honestly look at me without blame and resentment? I did, after all, push you that morning. Biggest regret of my life, but it’s irreversible. I still don’t know how I’ll make it up to our son.” His voice cracked, piercing my heart. All this time he’d carried his guilty burden so stoically I’d missed it. Sam leaned forward, his cheeks and eyes reddened. “Last week we tried putting this all behi
nd us, but then we fought on a sidewalk in the middle of town. Could that happen again weeks from now when, perhaps in the heat of some other disagreement, you think about my letting Carter go to that party?”
My throat was so tight it hurt to speak. “I can’t prove how I’ll behave in the future. I can only ask for your faith, because I’ve been trustworthy for most of our relationship. I overreacted yesterday. Seeing you with Mimi made something snap. It seemed like you went behind my back and took her side. I’m not proud of myself for it. I want things between us to heal, Sam. I love you and I need you. We have built this beautiful family, so I think we owe it to each other and our kids to start with a clean slate.” I trembled, but if we were to fix the damage, we had to be completely honest.
He reached for my hand, squeezing it tight. “I didn’t mean to hurt you by helping Mimi. I never mean to hurt you.”
“Deep down I knew that. That’s why I’m here. I still believe in us. In fact, I believe in us so much I came to another decision. After giving a lot of thought to how the lawsuit is contributing to our problems and Carter’s stress levels, and how it’s hurting Mimi, I think we should withdraw it.” I paused, letting myself absorb the hardships that would follow that choice. “Somehow we will make it all work financially—tighten our belts, clip more coupons, give up some vacations. Maybe I can get a second part-time job in the mornings to supplement what I make from piano lessons.” A patchwork plan at best, and even still, it would set back his retirement several years. “I don’t have a plan, but I know if we stick together, it will be okay. I’d rather be broke with you than win a big settlement and lose our family.”
With a surprised gleam in his eyes, Sam brought my hand to his lips. “That’s a huge change of heart, Grace. It means everything to me here.” He patted his chest, then made a rueful expression. “But ironically I’ve come to realize that you were right to insist that everyone involved contribute to Carter’s care. We shouldn’t be the only ones taking a financial hit, especially when we’re also dealing with all the emotional fallout. But now it sounds like you’d be on board to tell the lawyers to float a reasonable settlement. If that’s in motion before Carter returns to school, it’s a good compromise.”
When Sam tugged me onto his lap, my heart jumped around like an excited child at Christmas. Both of us spilled happy tears while I held on tight, taking in the scent of him, the warmth of his body, the strength of his arms. This was better than last week, because I’d begun the hard work of tackling my own demons, and he’d apologized, too. This reunion would stick. Our marriage would heal. Our family would survive, no matter what. I closed my eyes. All traces of doubt and sorrow fled, and I let myself breathe.
I raised my head off his shoulder and gently touched his cheek. “I love you so much.”
He smiled amid new tears. “Love you, too, babe.”
We kissed right as Kim came tromping through the kitchen.
“Ew,” she groaned on her way to the pantry, where she stared at the large container of jelly beans.
I wiped my eyes while watching my daughter, who I’d come to realize wasn’t nearly as tough as she pretended to be, plotting how to get her hands on that candy. She needed a big show of love, so I whispered my idea to Sam. When he nodded, I said, “Guess what, Kimmy? It’s time we plan your sleepover. You’ve been really patient, so let’s do it right away. Would you like your friends to come on Saturday?”
“Really?” She brightened considerably while sinking her greedy hands into the container and grabbing what she could.
Sam smiled. “I can’t think of anything better to do.”
“Yay!” Sensing our pliant moods, she shoved a fistful of jelly beans in her mouth.
“I’ll call your friends’ moms and set it up,” I said.
“Can we watch Breaking Bad this time?” Her words were garbled by the gummy candy.
I gestured for her to join our hug. “That’s still a hard no.”
She wrinkled her nose before dive-bombing us. “Okay.”
In the wake of forgiveness, holding on to my husband and daughter made me happier than I’d been in weeks. “Carter asked if we could all come and have pizza with him one night. How about we surprise him on Sunday?”
“Ice cream too?” Kim begged.
“Sure,” Sam replied.
“This is the best day ever,” Kim announced before leaving the kitchen with a second fistful of jelly beans.
“I’m surprised you let her have that candy,” Sam said.
“Today feels like a day for celebrating.” I smiled.
He kissed me again. “I’d like to celebrate, too.”
“What did you have in mind?” I kissed him back.
“It’ll have to wait until we put Kim to bed.” He squeezed my bottom.
“Maybe I ought to go rush her along?” I winked and then made my way to the back stairs as love flooded my heart and washed away resentments and blame.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
MIMI
Tuesday, March 9
The Gillette home
I closed my salon and ran to my car, knowing I didn’t have much time to throw something together for Rowan’s dinner and get over to the high school by seven o’clock. The prospect of attending a PTC meeting without Grace left me a bit uneasy, but I had to face the public at some point. Tonight’s meeting would introduce tenth grade parents to the college application website Naviance, so I couldn’t skip out. Apparently, even sophomores start making up wish lists and taking personality tests that help them decide what to study and where to do that. I hoped Rowan would make the most of it.
Grace was still PTC secretary, but given everything going on in her life, she might not show. Her friends would be here, though, so while I expected to be subjected to more than one stink-eyed glare, I refused to be intimidated. I’d owned my mistakes and learned from them, and set a new direction for myself, my business, and my son, so I deserved a second chance.
I drove home belting out Adele’s “Turning Tables,” letting all my feelings come out, then nearly slammed my brakes upon rounding the bend to my house. Grace’s car sat parked at the curb. My pulse skipped as I turned in to my driveway. After two deep breaths, I killed the engine and stepped out of my car on somewhat weak legs.
The scent of wet grass and pavement greeted me thanks to an early-evening March rain shower. Grace strode up the driveway, stopping two feet or so from me. An invisible armor locked around my chest to protect against more disappointment.
“This is a surprise.” I folded my arms, gloomy about the lack of joy from seeing my old friend. My heart flattened like it’d been thrown against a wall. All this time I’d thought I’d talked myself into not needing her. I guessed I still had some work to do.
“If you’d rather I go, I will.” She held her purse in front of her hips, her eyes beseeching.
I shrugged one shoulder, pretending not to care either way. “I’m not the one who’s been pushing you away.” When she remained still, I asked, “Is this about the lawsuit or the thing with Sam the other week?”
“Maybe both, indirectly. It’s not bad news, though. I hoped we could talk for a few minutes.”
I nodded, trying not to think about that lawsuit. “Well, I’m going to the PTC meeting, so I don’t have a ton of time, but if you’ve got something to say, maybe we should go inside.”
She glanced at my house with some trepidation, which was when I remembered the last time she’d been here: the night of the accident. My home represented her worst-ever memory. How callous I must’ve sounded, acting like it should be no big deal for her to cross the threshold.
She appeared to brace herself before saying, “Sure.”
Uncertain about her motives, I gestured toward the side door. With a timid smile, she followed me into the kitchen. Rowan must’ve been upstairs, but he hadn’t left any open snack boxes or dirty dishes lying around. Little by little he was starting to follow the new rules and be more helpful, which made me proud
.
On my way to the living room, I paused in the middle of the kitchen. “Do you want water or soda or anything?”
“No, thank you.” Grace then followed me out of the kitchen. I felt strange, like we were meeting for the first time, but also like I’d known her forever, both of which were sort of true seeing as how her personality had taken some twists and turns these past weeks. Maybe mine had, too.
When we got to my living room, she stopped, her head swiveling on her neck like a periscope. “New paint?”
Might as well confront the elephant in the room. “After everything that happened here, I needed a change.” I warmed at the memory of that day with Rodri, and at how cheery the room looked with the crisp, bright color. We had plans for a real date next weekend, so I figured I might as well come all the way clean. “Rodri helped me.”
“It’s pretty,” she said, tactfully not bringing up how it had looked on the night of the ill-fated party. “I assume Rodri is Officer Martinez?”
“Yes. Rodrigo. I’m sorry it hurt you when you saw us together, but I didn’t go out with him to spite you. He’s sweet, and kind, and didn’t go easy on anyone because of me. But I’m taking things real slow so that no one gets hurt.”
“I’m glad . . . I mean, that you met someone nice.” She rubbed one hand over the other. “I’m sorry about what I said to him at the café. You deserve to be happy, and you deserve someone kind.”
“And hot,” I teased, forgetting for a moment that we weren’t friends as before.
Grace chuckled, her eyes sparkling with the relief humor brought. “Yes, that too.”
Heartened by her reaction, I gestured for her to sit on the sofa while I took a chair. “So, what can I do for you, Grace?”
“Nothing. You’ve already done a lot for Carter and my family.” She crossed her legs, smoothing her slacks and the hem of her sweater before making eye contact. We’d sat in this room together hundreds of times and never once had it felt so stiff. I wanted to scream and cry and shake her all at once. Having her right here was like picking at a scab before it fully healed. “I don’t know if you’ve heard that Carter is coming home this weekend. He’s getting around with a cane now, and we’re hopeful that he’ll be off it by summer.”