If You Must Know (Potomac Point #1)(114)

She nodded blankly without directly answering either of us. “I need to go for a little drive.”

Maybe she thought she’d get more answers from Dad at his grave.

As she backed out of the driveway, I said, “I’ll follow her to make sure she’s okay.”

Amanda nodded, so I ran to the garage, jumped on my bike, and took the chance she had gone down Elm Street. Her red Prius came into view two cars ahead, so I hung back. My mother drove the speed limit, and a plethora of stop signs made it easy to track her, especially when she headed north on Balsa Road. Not much out that way but Saint Bernard’s cemetery, as I’d expected.

I didn’t go there often. For me, seeing Dad’s headstone—thinking about him lying beneath that cold field, surrounded by other skeletons and headstones—disturbed me and made his absence sharper.

My mother got out of her car and trod to the third row of graves, where she sank to her knees. I laid my bike on the ground and quietly came up behind her, heartsick to find her crying.

“Mom,” I said, startling her.

“Oh, Erin. Why’d you follow me?” She scowled, wiping her eyes.

“To make sure you were okay.”

“Well, I’m not. I haven’t been okay since your father died, and I’ll never be okay again. He was the heart of this family . . . he was my heart. Now that’s gone.”

I sat in the grass beside her and rubbed her back. “It’s not gone. He’s part of all of us. You know I didn’t want to believe in Nancy’s hooey, but I can admit when I’m wrong. Dad is with us, even if we can’t see him. He’s here, Mom, and if we lean on each other, he’ll always be with us and we’ll be fine. Even if you don’t believe that yet, you have to try. Willa will be here soon, and we have to give her everything Dad would’ve wanted for her, right?”

My mother glanced at his grave, nodding.

“I know you feel lost without him, but of all the women he could’ve picked, he picked you because he knew you were strong and principled and the exact right person to help him build a family. Don’t give up on yourself or the rest of us now.”

Her mouth twitched. “I don’t know if I can get used to this wiser version of you.”

I smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ve got plenty of crazy ideas floating around my head that’ll keep you on your toes for years to come.”

My mother elbowed my side, chuckling. “Your dad loved you best.”

“He didn’t love me best. He showered me with affection because I fit in the least and he wanted me to feel okay about that.”

She squeezed my hand. “I’m sorry I didn’t do that for you.”

My throat tightened. I half expected a flock of doves or a double rainbow to accompany that unexpected apology. What a day!

“It’s okay. We still have time.” For once, hugging my mother felt authentic.

I still missed my dad something fierce, but peace finally came from knowing that, like that tree, our family would continue to grow strong in our love and commitment, thanks to him.





CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

AMANDA

Six weeks later

The old sycamore provided much-needed shade today. The “Over the Hill” and silver “30”-shaped mylar balloons Mom and Aunt Dodo had tied all around the deck for Erin’s birthday stood erect and unmoving in the humid, stagnant summer air.

I took a seat between my mom and Lyle’s father, Richard, jostling Willa, who fussed in my arms after waking from her nap.

“I’m so glad she’s thriving,” Richard said, gathering her little fingers around his index finger. “I was worried when you called to tell me she came early.”

Three weeks early, but my little Muffin’s lungs were formed, and she’d shown no signs of trouble so far. “She’s a perfect little pip-squeak, isn’t she?”

I smiled, as I’d been doing since her birth. My heart could scarcely contain all the love and happiness that seemed to grow exponentially with each new day.

Eli picked up his guitar again and played a soft melody. Willa’s eyes widened, and unblinking, she stopped fussing.

“You’re a baby whisperer,” I said. “Can I record you now to play whenever she gets fussy?”

Eli shot me a gentle smile while Erin gazed at him with such open warmth it brought on another wave of joy. She’d been spending more nights at his house lately—possibly to avoid being awakened by late-night feedings. Even so, she still visited most afternoons at Mom’s.

After a day of purging and reorganizing, Kevin’s old room turned office now did double duty as a nursery. I hoped to get a full-time teaching job by Christmas, but in the meantime planned to sub when I could and continue at the nursery school a few days per week this fall. Mom had agreed to sit with Willa during those hours. It wasn’t the perfect plan I’d once needed, but it was doable.

Little Billy lay passed out on Kevin’s shoulder after the comedown from his sugar rush. “We’ve got to get going so we can drop Richard at the airport on our way home.”

“Happy birthday, Erin.” Marcy gave her a little hug from behind.

Erin patted her hands. “Thanks for coming.”

“Good to see you, honey.” Mom stood to give Billy a peck on the cheek and say goodbye to Kevin and Marcy. “And don’t forget, honey: I can come up and watch him next week if Marcy wants to go with you to that conference in New York.”