Page 3 of Play For Keeps

Willa has been by my side through it all— the night I met Grant, the day I married him and the afternoon he smashed my world into a million pieces. And even though I know it broke her heart a little when I took Birdie and left town, she supported me. She understood that I needed to go, to escape Grant and try to heal the wounds that I’d been suffering through for years.

Everly: I’m sorry you had to deal with her. I’ll talk to her soon. I just need some room to breathe.

Willa: You never have to apologize. I am happy to tell Miranda where she can shove it. :) I’m always here for you. How’s my Birdie?

I look over at the photo of my sweet girl that sits on my dresser. It was taken on her 6th birthday. She’s wearing a Tinkerbell costume, with a pink plastic tiara perched on top of her mass of blonde curls. The look on her face is pure joy. I smile at the memory and feel a rush of gratitude that despite everything, Birdie is still such a happy, loving kid.

Everly: She’s doing fine. I think she believes the move is temporary.

Willa: Well, is it temporary?

Everly: I’m not sure. I’m really hoping I can stay the year I committed to. I just hope Birdie doesn’t hate me for it.

I swallow hard. Birdie is my world. I have done everything I can think of to make this move as easy as possible for her. I’m making sure she gets lots of time with my parents, because they’re crazy about her and that kind of unconditional love is exactly what she needs. What we both need.

I’ve also tried to make the new apartment feel like home for Birdie. Her bedroom is the first room in the house that I set up. I painted the walls a beautiful, soft pink, hung a canopy over her bed and set up her dollhouse in the corner by the window. All of her favorite things are there—her stuffies are on the bed, her ballerina music box sits on her bedside table, her collection of glass marbles is in a bowl on her dresser. But it just isn’t her home yet. Hopefully in time it will be, but for now I know that she must miss her friends, her old school, and her dad, even if he was rarely ever present.

Willa: She could never hate you. Just focus on getting her settled. What about you? Are you okay?

I pause, mulling over her question for a second. I haven’t had time to even think about how I’m doing. Am I okay? I’m not, but I’d rather be here in this tiny apartment than living in that awful house.

Everly: I’m hanging in there.

Willa: I’m sorry you’re going through this. Grant is an asshole. You’re better off far away from him.

I watch as text bubbles bounce up and down on the screen until a second message from Willa pops up.

Willa: How’s the job? It’s still hard to believe you’re waiting tables.

Everly: It’s not that bad. It’s been a good way to make friends. Although it makes me feel really old. I feel like I could be their mother.

Willa: That’s just because you are one. 34 is not old. It can’t be, because I am also 34 and I KNOW you’re not calling me old.

Everly: You’re the exception, Wills. You’ll still be 25 at heart when they wheel you into the retirement home. But this old lady needs to go to bed now. Love you. I promise I’ll call you soon.

Willa: Love you too. Try not to worry. You got this.

We say goodnight and my heart aches in my chest. God, I miss Willa.

But Birdie and I are going to be okay.

TWO

IT’S A BEER, NOT AN ENGAGEMENT RING

Jake

Grayson sets his paddle board on the sand, then sits down beside me. “Got any cold ones in that backpack?”

“Maybe,” I say, rooting around for the three cans I stuffed in the bag on my way out the door this afternoon.

“You’re a hero,” Grayson says when I hand him a Miller Lite. “And it’s chilled too. This is why I love you, man. You always pull through.”

“It’s a beer, not an engagement ring. Don’t make it weird,” I grumble, setting my can down in the sand while I pull my T-shirt on over my head. It must be close to 85 degrees today and after a two-hour paddle, I’ve had enough sun for one day.

“I don’t care what you say, you’re a fucking life saver,” Grayson says, cracking the tab on the can I just handed him. “Got any sandwiches in there too?”

I side-eye him. “Don’t push your luck.”

---