never set your car seat on the counter again.
Mistakes are a topic for another letter, but this letter is about that feeling of being overwhelmed—in over your head. We’re all there at some point, often daily, like I was in those early years. (Yes, years. Turns out children change as they grow, and there are new challenges like teething or walking or potty training. One day it’ll be dating and makeup and boys. I’ll probably make mistakes then too.)
I’m always overwhelmed, it seems. But here’s what I know for sure: I’m also a lot more capable than I usually think I am. But I have to take each problem one by one. When I pile them all on top of my shoulders at once, that’s when I shut down. So whatever the most pressing problem is in that moment, that’s what I focus on. Once I’ve solved that, I move on to the next one. Obviously this doesn’t work with everything—you can’t achieve world peace in a day—but the things that affect your daily life, those are things you can take one at a time.
I don’t always agree with your grandparents, but your grandpop always says, “How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time.”
So the next time you feel overwhelmed, just break everything down piece by piece . . . and be sure to chew slowly so you give each one time to digest.
Love,
Mom
CHAPTER 19
JULY 1989
Nearly three full days passed before Isabelle could escape long enough to find JD. After humiliating her and carting her off from the beach the night of the Fourth, her parents had grounded her and taken away all privileges for the rest of the summer.
She’d pleaded with them to meet JD, to give him a chance, to take off their blinders and consider that maybe—just maybe—he was a good guy.
“No ‘good guy’ would encourage our daughter to enter a relationship without telling us,” her mom had said.
Now, with her mom at one of her ridiculous luncheons and her dad out on a fishing trip with a business associate who was only in for the day, Isabelle jumped on her bike and raced over to the club, hoping to find JD for a few minutes before she had to hurry back home.
But when she arrived, he was nowhere to be found. Jeb sat at a picnic table outside, eating a hot dog and a bag of chips.
“Isabelle?” He tossed a look over his shoulder as though talking to her could get him in trouble.
“Is he here?”
Jeb stood, moved toward her, and led her toward the staff entrance, away from any watchful eyes, as if her parents had spies all over the island.
Which, to be honest, they probably did.
“Didn’t he tell you?” Jeb kept his voice low.
“Tell me what?”
“He was fired two days ago,” Jeb said. “He’s probably at our house.”
“Fired?” Isabelle wanted to cry. “Were my parents behind this?”
Jeb shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Her parents were most definitely behind this. “Is he okay?”
“He’d be better if he saw you, I think.”
Isabelle glanced at her watch. How long would her mother be gone?
She decided she didn’t care. She’d risk getting in more trouble if it meant seeing JD.
“Thanks, Jeb,” she called out as she rushed back to her bike and then pedaled off toward JD’s rental cottage.
She reached the small house, dropped the bike on the ground out front, and knocked on the door.
After a few long seconds, the door opened and JD stood there, looking disheveled but as handsome as ever.
At the sight of her, his eyes brightened. “What are you doing here?” He flung open the screen door and pulled her toward him, kissing her as if it might be the last time, as if he’d been imagining this exact moment for days.
“I had to make sure you were okay,” she said.
“But your parents . . . ?”
“They don’t know I’m here.”
His face fell. Maybe he’d thought—hoped—they’d changed their minds.
She kissed him, inhaling him, realizing in that moment how much she’d missed him, how much she loved him.
“They grounded me,” she said, pulling away. “They said I can’t see you anymore.”
JD raked a hand through his hair. “Then you shouldn’t be here.”
Tears sprang to her eyes. “You can’t mean that.”
He pivoted away from her. “I don’t want to give them any more reasons to hate me, Bella. I want them to love me—to love us.”
She shook her head. “They won’t. They never will.”
He sat down on the couch and pulled her into his