Page 147 of Frozen Hearts
“Stay here,” I call over my shoulder before taking off toward the children’s play park.
I immediately spot my mom sitting on a bench at the edge of the play area and scanning the faces of the handful of other children running around, I quickly identify Aurora.
“Aurora,” I call out as I reach the gate.
“Mommy!” she comes running toward me, and tears overflow as I crouch down and bundle her into my arms. Standing, I spin her around as I hug her close.
“Mommy, you’re squishing me.”
“I’m sorry, baby girl. I’m just so happy to see you.”
She smiles up at me, and it makes my entire year. All the shit I’ve endured since moving to Halston, all the crap Grayson has put me through, the bullshit I put up with with Ben… none of it matters. It doesn’t mean a damn thing.
“Merry Christmas,” I tell her, kissing the top of her head.
“Merry Christmas, Mommy.”
“Let me get a good look at you,” I say, setting her on her feet. She twirls in front of me, and I laugh as I take her in, noting that her coat is a size too small and her hairstillhasn’t been cut. Forcing back my frown, I smile at her. “Beautiful as ever.”
For the next hour, I let her lead me around the playground. I push her on the swings, hold her up while she attempts to cross the monkey bars and catch her when she reaches the bottom of the slide. My grin is permanently glued to my face, and I memorize every smile, every giggle, every time she says my name.
“It’s time for us to leave,” Mom interrupts, coming to stand beside me. I haven’t spoken a word to her since I arrived. These visits aren’t about her. They’re for Aurora and me.
“She needs a new coat,” I bite out.
“Yes, well, money has been tight recently.”
“And you said you’d trim her hair.”
She sighs, exasperated. “I haven’t had the time.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask her what the hell she does all day that she can’t find half an hour to trim her granddaughter's hair. The woman doesn’t work. She should have nothing but time. Instead of causing a scene in the middle of the play park, I rip open my purse and, grabbing the handful of bills inside, I stuff them into her hand. “Get her a new coat and cut her damn hair,” I snarl.
My mother glowers back at me. Her makeup is done to the nines, and her outfit is pristine and clearly designer. My daughter can’t afford a winter coat that fits her, but my mom can afford designer clothing.
Yeah, someone call bullshit on that one.
What I’ve never been able to figure out ishowshe affords it. There have been a handful of wealthy boyfriends over the years, but they don’t usually stick around for long, and in the interim, where does she get the money from?
“Come on, Aurora,” my mother calls in that falsetto tone of hers, jarring me from my thoughts. “Time to go.”
“Okay.” Aurora comes running over and I bundle her into my arms for the last time, fighting back my tears. “Love you, Mommy.”
“To the moon and back.”
She grins, planting her small hands on my cheeks. “To the moon and back.”
God damn, don’t cry yet.
“I’ll see you real soon, okay?”
She nods her head fervently. “Okay.”
When I set her down, she reaches for my mom’s outstretched hand. “My money?” my mother hedges, like I didn’t just give her fifty bucks.
“Yeah, I’ll send it to you.”
Transaction completed, she turns and strides away with my little girl bouncing beside her, completely oblivious to the fact my heart is fracturing in two.
