I shake my head, wiping my fingers under my eyes, giving in to the emotion and minor embarrassment of it all. “It’s nothing, I’m sorry to kind of cry all over you. It’s not exactly the kind of first impression I expected to make.”
Pam just smiles and glances over at Jo. “Did Jo tell you about the first time she met me?”
“Something about a vibrator, some condoms, and underwear on the driveway?”
Jo laughs, flopping down on one of the barstools. “One of my finest hours.”
“Well, since you know that, you know that in my house, we don’t care much for what’s right or proper. We care about what’s real, even if what’s real is your underwear all over my driveway. So, what’s real, Amelia?”
I blow out a breath. “It’s been a long time since I was hugged by a mom. It just…felt good is all.”
I resist the urge to slap my hand over my mouth as the ridiculous truth comes falling out, but Pam doesn’t seem at all bothered by it. She just nods, her eyes full of understanding. “Well, any time you need a mom hug, you come right to me. I don’t mind telling you that I’m an absolutely fantastic mom. Iknow I’m not your mom, but you’re Elliot’s, so you belong to us now too.”
I glance over at Jo, remembering that she said almost exactly the same thing the day I met her at the diner, and I suddenly feel wildly lucky for whatever cosmic intervention led me here, straight into the heart of this incredible family. “You raised some very, very good men, Mrs. Wyles.”
“You bet I did. They drive me crazy half the time, but I love them to pieces. And you call me Pam. Mrs. Wyles was my mother-in-law, and she was mean as a rattlesnake. Never liked me one tiny bit, but I didn’t like her either, so we were even.”
“That woman was a stone-cold bitch.” All three of our heads swivel towards the kitchen doorway as Cece bustles in, clad in flowing teal pants, a white T-shirt, and an ankle-length purple cardigan. Her glasses today are round with a heavy, tortoise-shell frame, and she has a brown leather tote slung over her shoulder and a huge, covered cake plate in her arms.
“Cece!” Jo jumps up and grabs the cake plate, setting it on the counter and wrapping Cece in a hug. “I didn’t think you could make it.”
“Yeah, Mom, what about all your big plans that made it impossible to commit to our little gathering today?” Pam asks, both her eyes and her tone full of humor.
Cece turns and smiles serenely at her daughter. “You know me, Pammy. I go where I’m needed.”
“And you’re needed here?”
“Something told me I might be,” she says, glancing over at me, smile spreading over her face. “And besides, it’s our girl Amelia’s first book club. She deserves her favorite cake for the occasion.”
“Ooooh, what’s your favorite cake?” Jo asks, reaching for the opaque cake dome, only for Cece to slap her hand away.
“It’s…”
“Confetti cake with vanilla frosting,” Cece cuts in and I stare at her, astonished.
“How did you know that?”
Cece pats me on the hand. “Oh, honey, I’m a little bit psychic. You’ll get used to it.”
Pam gets up from her chair and kisses her mom on the cheek then comes to me, wrapping her arm around my shoulders. “Like I told you, Ames. Total chaos.”
“Just the way we like it,” Jo says, hopping off her stool and wrapping her arm around my waist. “Especially when there is lots of cake and no men.”
Cece nods seriously. “Put that on a T-shirt.”
Pam laughs and squeezes my shoulders and reaches out, touching Jo’s shoulder too, so for a minute the three of us are connected. The feeling of belonging is so enormous that I almost cry all over everyone all over again. “You have no idea how happy I am to finally have some girls around this house. Come on, ladies, we have some book clubbing to do.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
AMELIA
“Jo Evans, what is so interesting in that phone of yours?” Pam asks as we all settle onto the big living room sectional with margaritas and giant cake slices. An odd combination that is surprisingly amazing. “Do I need to make book club a phone free zone too?”
Jo shakes her head, setting her phone face down on the coffee table. “Sorry, I was trying to get in touch with Hannah. She said she would text me when she was ready to call in, but I haven’t heard from her all day and she’s not responding. It’s weird. She’s been off lately, and I guess I’m just a little worried about her.”
“Have you talked to Hallie?” Pam asks, looking concerned.
Jo nods, taking a long sip of her drink. “She’s worried too. We both have been since the summer.” Jo sighs, shaking her head. “Something is going on with her, but she’s more of a closed book than either Hallie or I am. She always has been. My instinct is to nag her until she tells me what the problem is so I can fix it, but…” she trails off.
