there are colleges that are close by. You don’t have to go far away.” Part of her wanted him to stay. For her to have one person here with her, as selfish as that thought was. Because she felt so alone and lost at present. Just having Noah here, leaving his water bottles scattered around the house and the television on, would feel normal. She needed some normal in her life right now.
Noah shrugged and flopped back on the bed. “Yeah. Maybe.”
“But we have time to think about that. The thing is, I don’t want you to worry about me. I’m fine.” As she said the words, she knew she was lying to him, doing the thing she said she wouldn’t do. But at the same time, she knew that one day she would be fine. Because, though her husband was sleeping at the Marriott, her daughter wasn’t talking to her, and she’d pretty much assaulted her soon-to-be in-law, she would be okay. Maybe because she had that much of her mother inside her. She wasn’t going to give up or go down just because it would be the easiest thing to do.
She stroked Noah’s head, loving the feel of his silky brown hair beneath her fingers and that waft of teen boy that was somewhere between salty heat and wet dog, with an Axe body spray finish. He closed his eyes and fell asleep half on, half off her bed. She scooted over to Kit’s side, punched the pillow, and then let the calming drug do its thing.
The next morning when she woke to the sun streaming in her window, she had two thoughts—tomorrow her daughter would marry Tennyson’s son, and she wasn’t sure how she would handle everyone knowing that Kit had left her.
Noah had disappeared at some point in the night, likely slinking back to his own room, and she could hear Poppy barking to be let out of the laundry room. Glancing at the clock, she was surprised to find that it was close to 10:00 a.m. She hadn’t slept that late since she’d given birth to Noah and Kit’s mother had come to stay with them.
She climbed out of bed, brushed her teeth, and tugged on her robe, the first of many mornings that would be different. By the time she let Poppy outside and filled her kibble bowl, she was more than ready for her morning coffee. When she padded into the kitchen, she was surprised to find her other child standing in front of the espresso machine, spooning eggs onto two plates.
“Emma?”
“Morning, Mom,” Emma said. Her voice sounded funny, but not irritated as it had been last night when she virtually dumped Melanie into her bedroom, rifled through the bathroom cabinet where Melanie kept their family’s medications, and forced her to take the anxiety drug.
“Morning. What are you doing here?” Melanie sank onto a stool, the thought of coffee long gone as she faced her daughter. This wasn’t going to be as easy as dealing with Noah.
“Making sure you’re not bouncing off the walls or trying to drown yourself in the bathtub.” Emma fetched a cup from the cupboard and filled it with fragrant coffee. She added a splash of creamer and handed it to Melanie. She also set down a plate of eggs covered in cheese.
“I know you’re upset,” Melanie said, accepting the cup and taking a long sip. The brew was perfect—something Emma prided herself on. She eyed the coffee mug they’d bought at Disney World ten years ago. It had been such a fun vacation, full of pigtails, sunscreen, character autograph books, and Dole pineapple whips. A lifetime ago. Another world.
“I am, but I’m also worried about you. What you did last night . . . well, Tennyson could have had you arrested. You tried to choke her. And you gave her a black eye.”
“I did? I mean, I know I sort of lost it. But a black eye?” Lord, Tennyson would be incensed having a black eye for her son’s wedding. She almost smiled, and Emma caught her.
“Oh no. Don’t you dare think anything about this is funny. You acted like a maniac and ruined my bachelorette party. We got kicked out of drag queen bingo. Drag queens found us obnoxious enough to kick out.”
“Well, at least it was memorable,” Melanie said, taking another draw on her coffee.
Emma pulled up a stool, plonked down her own plate, and set her cup of tea next to it. “Too soon, Mom.”