to her exploded with a rainbow of flowers—violets, reds, yellows, indigos.
A rainbow . . . a promise.
And Angela had promised to walk the path toward healing with her daughter. Which meant speaking the truth. All of it. “I’m not sure I am doing it for him.”
“What do you mean?”
“Initially I came for you guys. Because I knew you needed me to work toward healing. I couldn’t seem to get out of the rut I’d fallen into after your dad died. And I was desperate enough to try anything.”
“For what it’s worth, it seems to be working.”
“Yes.” But what would happen when they went home? That was the question always burning in the back of her mind. How did she take what she’d learned—what she was still learning—and apply it to her life back home, where distractions and responsibilities would threaten to take over?
The group started moving again, and so did Kylee and Angela. They passed a tree that was larger than the other plants nearby. It seemed like the kind with roots that ran deep: strong, its trunk branching off into hundreds of limbs, each one stretching toward the sky.
“Mom, what’s life going to be like when we leave here?”
It was as if her daughter could read her mind. “I’ll have to go back to work. Beyond that, I’m not sure.”
“Are you going to work for Aunt Eva and Marc?”
“Maybe.” When her sister-in-law had originally made the offer, Angela had written it off as typical Eva—not thinking ahead, not seriously considering the consequences beforehand. But perhaps she’d been wrong.
Whatever the case, it wasn’t as if she’d be able to get a job doing something she really loved. Still, Simon’s praise about providing for the kids and his perspective on finding a gift in the unexpected had penetrated her heart as she’d thought about his words over the last several weeks. There was something to be said for living a normal life, working a normal job, and providing for her family. Not every person had to live a huge dream to find contentment.
Whatever she ended up doing, she just wanted to go in with eyes open. With purpose.
“Didn’t you want to be a doctor a long time ago? Maybe you should go back to school.”
Her daughter remembered that? “I’ve considered it, but that would mean more time away from you guys. I want to be the best mom I can.”
I also don’t know if I want it anymore.
Whoa, what? Angela’s first instinct was to erase the blasphemy from her mind—but instead, she mulled it over.
Why did the idea of being a doctor no longer seem like an unrealized pipe dream . . . and instead was more something she wouldn’t want to spend time doing?
Then she recognized a knowing. A part of herself she hadn’t listened to in a long time.
The other day when Eva had injured her ankle and Angela had assessed it, there had been no thrill in it. She was simply applying knowledge, just like she’d done every day in her office job.
However noble and worthy a pursuit, there was no added joy in the thought of becoming a physician.
Huh.
Kylee stopped walking and studied Angela. Her eyes softened. “We all know that you love us, okay? And that you’d do anything for us if we needed you to. But I think you can still be the best mom if you did something for yourself. Because, really, you following your dreams is only going to make us want to follow ours.”
Before Angela could throw her arms around her daughter, Kylee skipped ahead into the Green Dragon Inn. Angela quickly followed, and they all ordered mugs of soda at a log table overlooking the pond.
Outside the window, the broad tree she’d seen earlier stood firm despite a sudden gust of wind—bending, but not breaking.
29
Today was going to either change everything—or be very, very awkward.
Maybe both.
Eva sat in a hard plastic chair just outside the airport coffee bar, squinting at the Arrivals screen. She should have checked the status of Marc’s flight before heading over, but who knew that it would be delayed three times in the span of an hour? At long last, the screen indicated his flight had arrived. Now she just had to wait for him to emerge from the terminal and walk her way.
She stilled her bouncing knee and drained the rest of her latte. Maybe she should go back for a second hit. Liquid courage sounded good about now.