Page 10 of Honey Bee Library
Willow nodded. “I appreciate that.”
When I got to the diner, I pulled into my normal parking spot and turned off the engine. Willow was just like Jasper. She was out of the car and slamming the door before I’d even unbuckled.
I figured she’d already gone inside, but she appeared next to me just as I shut the car door.
“There won’t be a next time,” she blurted out.
I turned to face her. “What?” I asked.
Her cheeks were bright pink and her eyes were wild when she finally glanced up to meet my gaze. “In the car, you said that you’d be more aware next time.” She sighed. “There won’t be a next time.” Her voice was desperate as she studied me, like she needed me to agree.
The last thing I wanted to do was upset her. If she wanted me to stay away, I would oblige. I wasn’t here to make friends, but I also didn’t want to make enemies.
I raised my hands and nodded. “Okay. There won’t be a next time.”
Willow held my gaze for a moment before she nodded, turned on her heel, and marched toward the diner, leaving me behind in the parking lot. I watched her retreat, wondering what the heck I’d done to that woman.
3
SABRINA
I wokeup Monday morning with a new sense of purpose. My interview at the library had gone splendidly, and Isabelle had hired me on the spot. After we bonded over our babies—her daughter was six months old—and compared favorite authors, she declared that she doubted she could find a more perfect librarian and offered me the job.
I wasn’t sure who was more excited by my news, me or Abigail. As soon as I announced to her and Bash that I’d got the job, she leapt off the barstool, wrapped her arms around me, and declared that we were going out for dinner.
I loved my sister, and I was happy that she was happy for me, but at times like these, I could hear what she wasn’t saying. If I had a job, that meant I was getting better. And if I was getting better, she didn’t need to worry about me anymore.
I tried to not let it bother me. I didn’t want to be a burden to anyone, but Abigail’s reaction showed that was exactly what I had been to her: a burden. I was the messed-up older sister who couldn’t get her life together and kept failing at every turn. I hated that.
I pulled my gaze from the dark ceiling and yanked the covers off my body. Lying in bed, overanalyzing Abigail’s reaction to my news wasn’t helping anyone. I was going to push that from my mind, get up, and take on the day.
I was determined to prove to my sister and the world that I could do this.
Samuel was still asleep in his crib, so I took a quick shower while playing the newest release of the masked singer, Drifter. His channel and songs had become my newest obsession. After I was dressed in a floral peplum top and knee-length pencil skirt, I wrapped my hair up in a faded t-shirt to dry. I slathered lotion on my face as I walked back over to check on Samuel…only to find that he wasn’t there.
I rested my hands on the railing of his crib and took in a deep breath. Abigail must have gotten him while I was in the shower. Normally, it wouldn’t bother me, but I was determined to start proving to myself that I could manage my life. Samuel was my responsibility. If I was ever going to make it as a single mom providing for her son, I needed to actuallybea single mom providing for her son.
I took in another deep breath, reminded myself that Abigail had good intentions, and then turned and walked through my bedroom and out into the hallway. Samuel sat, giggling, in his high chair while Abigail was busy in the kitchen opening jars of baby food.
When she saw me, she smiled and said, “Morning.”
“Morning.” I glanced from her to Samuel and then back to her. “I had it handled. I was going to feed him once I got out of the shower.”
Abigail shook her head as she stirred the baby food. “Oh, that’s okay.” She glanced over at Samuel. “I don’t mind getting up with the stinker.” She grabbed a jar in each hand and headed over to sit in front of him.
I stood there, not knowing what to say. Part of me wanted to stand up for myself. I knew Abigail had taken care of Samuel when I was in the depths of my postpartum depression, but I needed her to let that go now. I needed her to trust that I could do this. That I could be the mom Samuel needed me to be. That I could be the person I needed me to be.
I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, and I didn’t want our relationship to be strained. It had already changed so much because of my mess, I couldn’t be the one to put tension on it once again.
“Okay,” I said, defeatism sinking into my body. “I’ll go do my makeup and hair.”
Abigail acknowledged me with a wave but kept her focus on Samuel. She was pretending that the spoon was an airplane.
When I got back to the bathroom, I shut the door, leaned against the nearby wall, and sighed. I closed my eyes and covered my face. I was in a strange place. Inside, I felt freer than I had since Trevor left me. I had clarity on who I was and what I wanted. But my environment felt like a prison I was never going to be released from. My body and mind once held me hostage, and now…it was this apartment. It was Abigail.
I felt guilty for thinking that. I felt guilty for being frustrated with my sister. Samuel and I were thriving because of her. I just wished she would see that what I needed now was for her to let us go and to trust me.
Especially when I was trying to trust myself.
