I can’t stop. “She told the whole world about Olive before I did. She stole that chance from me over and over again.” My blood pounds in my chest. “And the baby shower? What possessed you to do that? To go along with it?”
She wipes at a tear from the corner of her eye, her bracelets clinking with the motion. “I can’t go back in time and fix my mistakes, but I want you to know that I’m sorryfor all of it. And if—” She takes a breath, her voice shaking. “If you can’t forgive me, I’ll accept it.”
I watch as a tear drops from her red eyes, smudging her mascara.
In my entire life, I’ve never seen my mother cry, and I don’t really know what to do about it.
I bite my lip as I feel my own eyes water.
“I’m not…” I start before breaking off. I glance out the window, at Jackson, who’s already facing me. I watch as his large hands rub Olive’s back gently, rocking her in place. I take a deep breath. “I’m not ready to forgive you, for everything. But… we can do this again sometime, if you’d like.”
Her eyes widen as she nods her head, sliding her hand across the table towards mine.
“I’d like that so very much,” she whispers, her fingers twitching on the table.
I nod my head, glancing back out at Jackson as he tickles Olive’s belly until she erupts into laughter.
“Here.” I slide the chocolate cake towards her. “Eat some of this before Jackson gets back and inhales it all.”
She sends me a beaming smile before grabbing a fork and digging in.
I might not be ready to forgive her, and we might never have the kind of relationship Jackson has with his mother, or Anya with hers, but maybe we can share a slice of cake on a sunny afternoon. And maybe it’s a start.
47
JACKSON
“On a scaleof one to ten, how bad was that?” I ask Rosie in the passenger seat. She’s been quiet since leaving the cafe, giving her dad a hug and her mum an awkward wave before we buckled Olive into her car seat and drove away.
Rosie snorts. “A solid six.”
I whistle. “I was expecting a two, maybe a three if we were lucky, so I’ll take a six.”
“I’m just glad it’s over.”
I rest my hand on her lap, squeezing her thigh.
Rosie glances behind her at Olive dozing in her car seat. “She’s tuckered out now.”
“Well she’s about to be handed around like a rugby ball in a few minutes.” I pull into our driveway though I know we won’t be staying long.
I used to take for granted how easy it was to get around before Olive came along. I used to put my shoes on, put my wallet in my pocket and then I would just…leave the house. Now, I have a mental checklist the length of my arm, and a tiny sidekick that needs to be fed every couple of hours.
“Björn or stroller?” Rosie asks as she rounds the car.
“Let’s bring both so she can nap,” I say, opening Olive’s door as quietly as I can. She barely stirs when I pick her up, placing her in the stroller Rosie’s assembled without a noise.
When I found this place, I had hoped the proximity to Danny and Anya’s house was a sign it was the right neighborhood, but I hadn’t anticipated them moving back in full time. We now spend nearly all our time at each other’s houses, although they’re heading back to LA in a few months for work.
Nearly everyone we’ve ever met is crammed into Danny and Anya’s garden for their anniversary party. The air is thick and warm, and we can smell the start of a barbecue as we get closer.
“Olive!” Anya calls as soon as we cross the threshold. She beelines for the stroller, ignoring Rosie and I until she realizes the baby is asleep and is best not disturbed, a lesson Anya learned her first night babysitting, when she woke her up on purpose and had to suffer through a sleepless night.
“Hello to you too,” Rosie says wryly.
Anya pulls her into a hug. “How did it go with the parents?”
Rosie shrugs.
