Page 10 of Healing Hearts
But I can tell from the slight slump to Emily’s shoulders that she’s processing what this will mean for her, for the connection she has with Victoria.
While I also get what Tyler wants and needs, it doesn’t feel quite fair to Emily, Maggie, and Joanna, who’ve poured so much from their own wells to make sure Tyler’s stayed full.
“Just for a while,” Tyler says, trying to make eye contact with Emily.
Maybe he’s not as unaware as I thought.
“I’m really happy for you all,” Emily says, raising her glass. “A toast. To Tyler, Mia, and Victoria and their first Christmas as a family.”
We all raise our glasses in unison, clinking them together, and I make a note to check in on Emily a lot during the next couple of weeks while Amir is away and her time isn’t filled as she expected.
Chapter Five
Emily
My house has never been so clean. One of the things you never realize about having a child until it’s happened to you is how they leave tiny tornadoes of things around the house—garbage, toys, dishes, crafts. The cleanup is never ending until they’re out of the house and you miss it—all of it.
Despite what I told Trent, the holiday season is typically slower in real estate too. I could have gone somewhere, but with Lila in a funk, Maggie connected at the hip to Grady, and most of my other friends married or coupled up, my best option would have been to venture off alone. Given the mood I’ve been in lately, that holds zero appeal.
But so does sitting in my house on my own.
“Where does this go?” I ask Maggie, popping out of her backroom at the pharmacy.
“Are you sure Tyler wouldn’t appreciate the organizational help at his store?” Maggie asks from where she’s filling prescriptions at the high counter.
“He needs it,” I agree, “but he and Mia asked for privacy. I can’t show up there and ask for the keys.”
“You could,” Maggie says. “I’m sure he’d love it.”
Except, I don’t actuallywantto be alone. At Tyler’s store, it would be just me and my thoughts as I rearranged clothing racks and put new product out. Like most of us in the family, he has specific expectations around his business. He has a structure about how things are priced that I’ve never bothered to learn. Whereas here, I can stock Maggie’s shelves at the back—it’s mostly pairing like with like. Things that expire sooner up front. Easy.
“What about this?” I ask, holding up some sort of asthma apparatus.
“All right,” Maggie says, scribbling something on a notepad and then turning to me in obvious exasperation. “What is going on?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve been here for three days.”
“I know.”
“Is it because Amir is with his grandparents? Can’t you go stage a house?”
“That’s all done,” I say with a shrug. “I don’t even have a listing to help declutter right now.”
“I don’t need you decluttering here either,” Maggie says, sweeping her hand around the store. “I actually hire people to check expiry dates and stock shelves and all the things you’re doing.” She scans me from head to toe and then narrows her eyes. “Why don’t you schedule some dates on that app you’re using? Get out. Meet some people.”
“No,” I say with a shake of my head. “I think I’m done with all that.”
“Mom will be all over you.”
“I’m aware,” I say with a huff. “But I hate it. I hate everything about it. All I do is have terrible conversations, get very drunk, and call Trent for rescue. Rinse. Repeat.”
“He is good at rescuing. Rescued me a time or two,” Maggie says, and I can tell she wants to say something else.
“That’s all it is.”
“Have you just been dating to make Mom happy then? I thought maybe you’d turned a corner?” Maggie leans back against the counter and crosses her arms.
