Page 15 of Play For Keeps

NEATLY INTO THE FRIENDS ZONE

Everly

“My love bug!” my mom exclaims, greeting Birdie and me at her door. “I’m so excited to see you.”

“I’m excited to see you too, Gramma,” Birdie says, skipping into my parents’ modest, split-level home. “Where’s Grandpa?”

“He’s in the kitchen, baby,” my mom tells her. “He’s been waiting for you.” I step inside and wrap my arms around my mom. “It’s so good to see you, Everly,” she whispers into my hair. “You look good.”

“Thanks, Mom.” I pull back from her embrace, taking in her slender frame. “So do you.”

Her thick hair is cut short in a tight bob at her shoulders, her hazel eyes crinkled at the corners. My mom is the polar opposite of my former mother-in-law, Miranda. Grant’s mom is cold, manipulative, and always focused on climbing the social ladder. My mom, on the other hand, is warm, kind and one of the most supportive people I know.

I’ve been trying to make a point of seeing my parents often since Birdie and I moved to Reed Point. When we lived in Brookmont, we made the trip out to visit them a couple of times a year at best, and I know it broke my mom’s heart that she saw so little of us. It was always an argument between Grant and I, but his calendar was usually packed, and he didn’t like the thought of Birdie and I making the drive on our own. Whenever I did plan a trip to see my parents, it seemed like a dinner party or black-tie event would come up at the last minute. Grant enjoyed these events far more than I did, but me being the good wife, I went along with it.

My mom gently squeezes my arms, pulling me from my memories. “How’s my baby?” she asks, concern on her face.

I inhale a deep breath and decide how much I want to tell her. Truthfully, some days it’s overwhelming, but I'm also happier than I have been in a long time. It has been a dream of mine to be able to share weekly dinners with Birdie and my parents, to watch my mom teach Birdie how to garden in her backyard. I know that moving here was the right thing to do, but some days it’s been really hard. I’m exhausted, in every possible way.

“As good as I can be, I guess,” I say.

“I’m worried about you, sweetheart. I don’t know how you’re juggling it all. Why won’t you let your dad and I help you more? You know we are happy to.”

Even though she knows I would never ask, I tell her what she wants to hear. “I will, Mom, if it gets too much. I promise.”

The reality is that I need to prove to myself that I can do this all on my own. I can support Birdie and myself without my ex’s money. No matter how tired or stressed I am, I’d still rather be working at Catch 21 and living here than be back in Grant’s mansion in Brookmont.

“Come here,” my mom says, reaching an arm around my shoulder. “I made your favorite soup. Let’s go sit down at the table.”

She steers me into the kitchen, where Birdie is already sitting on my dad’s lap playing a game on his iPad. My heart swells at the sight. Real. Pure. Love. With no strings. This is what I’ve always wanted for Birdie.

“Those two and their games,” my mom says, looking fondly at them.

“There’s my girl,” my dad says, looking up from the iPad as I round the table and give him a kiss on his cheek. “I’d get up to hug you, but Birdie and I are a little busy here.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” I say, ruffling Birdie’s curls.

“She’s been telling me some very interesting stories,” he says, giving me a knowing look over the rim of his glasses.

“Oh? What did you hear?” I take off my sweater and hang it on the back of my chair. It must be 85 degrees in here and the fan in the corner is doing absolutely nothing. I sit down, feeling immediately at home in the old kitchen. Not much has changed since I left for college. The cabinets are still a heavy oak with exposed hinge hardware and the walls are sponge painted a mottled beige.

“We can talk about it later,” he says with a wink.

I cock my head at him, trying to figure out what on earth he’s talking about. And then it dawns on me that Birdie has probably told him all about her new friend, Jake. My girl loves to tell stories.

I think back to the text message Jake sent me today. The one I still haven’t returned. The text was innocent enough, falling neatly into the friend zone. How was your week? Mine was a doozy so I hope yours was better. I feel bad for letting another text from Jake go without a response, but in my defense, I read it while I was at the park with Birdie. That was a few hours ago, though, and I have no good excuse now for leaving him on read.

I shove the guilty feeling down, turning my attention back to my family. My mom asks Birdie if she can go check on the lettuce in the garden out back for her, and my daughter is off her chair and racing out the door in a split second.

“I think that was a yes,” my mom says with a laugh. Birdie loves spending time in the garden at my parents’ place, it’s one of the reasons she is always wanting to come visit.

My dad leans forward on the table, that curious expression still on his face. “So, Birdie tells me you two made a new friend by the name of Jake.” He gives me a look that I’ve seen a million times before. The one that says, You better know what you’re doing.

I hold up my hands. “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not that,” I tell him. “We just met Jake. You know Birdie; she knows someone for five seconds and suddenly they’re her new best friend.”

“That is true, but she made it sound like there’s something going on with the two of you. I don’t want to stick my nose in your business, honey, but you know this will make things even more difficult between you and Grant. I doubt very much he would be okay with you dating.”

I sigh. “I get that, Dad, I do, but there’s nothing going on with me and Jake,” I say again, a feeling of frustration building inside of me. “But let’s say there was… am I supposed to allow Grant Billings to run my life forever? He and I are not together anymore. Don’t get me wrong— I’m not looking to date anyone right now, but I am done with my life revolving around Grant.”

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