Page 63 of Every Now and Then
Grace proves more than capable, and they pop out of the bathroom door smelling clean and dressed in pajamas.
“Okay, Grace, I’m new to all this. Is there anything else we need to do now?”
“After we swim, the chlorine makes our hair extra tangly, so you need to brush it. Then, my mom braids our hair before bedtime.” She squishes up her nose. “Do you know how to braid, Hayes?”
“I do not. Think you can teach me?”
“Probably,” Grace replies, her tone serious. “If not, we can watch some YouTube videos. That’s what my mom does when there’s something that we need done around the house, but she doesn’t know how to do it. Like when the toilet kept running. She fixed it after watching a video because she said that having a plumber come out on the weekend would be too expensive.” Grace pats my shoulder, but I detect a hint of condescension in her voice. “So, I bet you can do that to learn to braid.”
That’s how I find myself watching YouTube videos on hair braiding and eating pizza around the coffee table in the den with two little girls on a random Thursday evening in December.
Grace is adept at braiding and braids Claire’s hair with quick, practiced fingers. It turns out that I have two left hands when it comes to braiding. After several failed attempts, I finally reach a modicum of success. The braid on Grace’s head is loose and a little lopsided, but it’ll do.
“You did pretty well today, Hayes.”
Her words feel like high praise coming from the little ballbuster herself. “Thank you, Grace. I couldn’t have done it without your help, though, kiddo.” I nudge her gently with my elbow and wink.
She shoots me a side-eye and nods once. “That’s accurate.”
I laugh. “Grace, sometimes I forget that I’m speaking to a seven-year-old and not an adult.”
“I’ll be eight in five months.” She grins sheepishly while she fiddles with the hair tie at the end of her braid. “But yeah, my mom says that I came out of the womb as a middle-aged woman.”
“What’s a womb?” Claire asks.
Nope, not going there.
At bedtime, the girls brush their teeth and crawl into the queen bed in one of my guest rooms. I stretch out between them and start working through the stack of books Claire packed for us to read. She curls into the crook of my arm, her cheek resting on my chest, a small arm draped across my stomach. Grace doesn’t snuggle in like Claire does, but she lies close.
We’re halfway through the third book before both girls are sound asleep. I close my eyes for a few minutes, not wanting to move too quickly and risk waking them.
As I rest, I think back on how unexpectedly today unfolded. I had the chance to be there for Annabelle, and I’m grateful she trusted me with the most precious part of her world.
22
Annabelle
Now
Wearily, I drag myself into Hayes’ penthouse condo. I wasn’t initially keen on the idea of having a sleepover here with the kids, but now I’m so glad Hayes suggested it. There is no way I could have picked the girls up and then driven to Brentwood tonight without falling asleep at the wheel. I can barely keep my eyes open.
After undergoing some tests to determine the severity of her concussion, Laura was deemed fit for surgery tomorrow. Her mom arrived and will be staying with Laura through the holidays.
When I received the call from the hospital nurse saying Laura had been admitted, I nearly passed out. The thought of losing another person was terrifying. Even though this situation was different fromKyle’s accident, it was still triggering. I got swept up in the memories and had a full-blown freakout for a second. I was completely overwhelmed, drowning in the trauma of Kyle’s crash and the emotional aftermath.
Following Kyle’s death, I withdrew from the few friends I’d made in Brentwood. I simply didn’t have the emotional bandwidth to maintain surface-level friendships while juggling everything else. My time, energy, and focus went entirely to my daughters and the people closest to me. Keeping my circle small felt easier. Safer.
That circle shrank even more when I discovered Kyle’s secrets. The weight of them was, and still is, crushing. I started dreading conversations with our families, constantly afraid I’d slip up and say too much.
But today reminded me of the risks that come with keeping my circletoosmall. With my best friend in the hospital and my babysitter out of town, I didn’t have many people to lean on. When I asked Hayes to watch the girls, I fretted about it. I worried about how the girls would react to a random man picking them up from school, but I didn’t know who else to ask. I could have asked a neighbor or another mom from school, but when it came down to it, I trust Hayes to care for and keep my daughters safe more than I trust any of my acquaintances.
And Hayes showed up. He was my steady hand and my pillar of strength. Again. He's developing a habit of showing up when I need him.
I drop my purse onto the bench near the elevator. This is the second time I’ve been to Hayes’ condo, but my memories from my first visit are a bit of a blur.
As I move through the wide entry foyer, I step into a cavernous living and dining area. The condo is enormous, with an open layoutand a wall of towering windows that overlook downtown. Even at night, the city sparkles, bright and alive.
The living room is an eclectic blend of styles. Rich leather and dark wood give it a masculine edge, but the space is softened by pale colors, woven textures, and delicate prints. It’s warm and welcoming, comfortable in a way that puts me at ease. It feels like a home, not a designer showroom.
