Page 26 of Passing Notes

The slam of Clara’s front door sent a smile unfurling across my face. For the first time in years I felt alive. Anticipation sparked inside me—for what, I didn’t know, but I couldn’t wait to find out.

Maybe I should just ask her out, take her on a date like nothing had happened to make her leave me all those years ago. I didn’t even care what it was anymore. We were young, she had to have been scared. I could forgive her for anything. I wanted her in my life again, that much was clear to me. She didn’t want to talk about what had happened between us, that much had also been made clear—abundantly.

Was moving forward without looking back possible?

My lips shifted into a grin as a truck from the local nursery parked in my driveway and the driver began filling a small dolly with a bunch of plants that could have only come from one person.

“Afternoon,” he greeted. “Sasha Easton live here?”

“Yup.”

“Dad! We get to stay with you extra days!” I smiled as Ethan hauled ass up the street, followed by Sasha who also began running once she caught sight of the plants being delivered.

She gasped, “Is that all for me?”

“Are you Sasha Easton?” the delivery driver asked with a smile.

“Yes!” she squealed.

“Then yes, little lady, these are for you.”

“This is so awesome!” She tossed her backpack on the lawn and helped him carry the plants to the grassy area in front of the porch.

“Can we get pizza for dinner?” Ethan sank onto the padded wicker sofa adjacent to my rocker. “I’m so happy it’s Friday. I’m going to sleep all day tomorrow.”

“You and me both. And yes to pizza.” Pizza meant no cooking, which also meant no cleaning up after dinner—which I was a huge fan of, especially on the weekends.

Why were Fridays always so exhausting?

My phone went off again. It was my mother. Great.

“Go inside, y’all. We’ll sort all of this out later.”

The delivery driver took off with a wave, the kids ran inside, and I swiped to answer the call. “Nicky! I’m calling to see how the kids’ first day of school went.”

“You’re a bit late for that, Mom.”

“I’m at the house in Hawaii. Island time has me all out of sorts. You know how I get.”

“It’s okay. I know.” But I didn’t really know. I didn’t know her anymore.

We were probably seventy percent no contact by now. Then she’d call me or send gifts to the kids, and I’d feel bad about never talking to her. We’d find a time to have dinner and fight about me being a teacher and divorcing Morgan, only to rinse and repeat the cycle a few months later. It was exhausting.

My therapist called it a soft boundary. I’d checked out of my relationship with her and had no expectations left. I should cut off contact completely, but it was hard to let go of that shred of hope, no matter how small it now was. I was still holding on to the idea that someday she would change back to the way she’d been when my dad was alive.

“So, I won’t keep you. Tell the kids hi for me, or should I call Morgan at her place? Is it her week with the kids?”

“No—”

“Why you’d want to get a divorce from a woman like her is beyond me. She comes from a wonderful family, she’s educated, goal oriented, has a good job... It’s never too late for a second chance, Nicky?—”

“We were never right for each other, you know that. I told you everything after we got the divorce. We wanted different things out of life?—”

“She’s beautiful, Nicky. You could have given her everything she wanted. You still can, if you’d quit being so stubborn and take the job with your stepfather. Phil says it’s yours whenever you decide to give your children what they deserve. Think of how you’ll be able to pay for their college when the time comes. Think of their future?—”

“Is there anything else you needed? I’ll give the kids your regards.”

She let out a beleaguered sigh, as if every word out of her mouth wasn’t an insult to me and everything I’d chosen to do with my life. “Yes, honey. Sam is heading to Green Valley sometime around Thanksgiving week to open the Bandit Lake house up and get everything ready before we come back to town for Christmas. Invite him for dinner, will you? I don’t want him to be alone on the holiday and I want you to talk to him about his troubles with Ivy. It isn’t looking good for his marriage, Nick. We can’t have another divorce in the family. What will people think?”

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