Page 65 of Honeymoon Phase
“Most definitely,” Dakota confirms. “And I bet he’s so nice he even announces when he’s going tocrumb.”
“Guys, be careful,” Cozy interjects, using her firm mom voice. “Too much yeast will ruin it for everyone.”
The three women burst out laughing like cackling hens and I can’t help but join in. We laugh so hard, I have to wipe tears out of my eyes. “Damn, I thought the guys at the yard were disgusting but you fine ladies are putting them to shame.”
“You’re welcome,” Dakota says with a smile.
“But the truth is,” Cozy interjects, hooking her thumb over to me. “Addison has no issues with Luke yet because they’re still in the honeymoon phase.”
“I must admit I’m still there too a little bit,” Dakota says, raising her hand. “Living with Calder is...” She shivers at something I do not want to unpack.
“It’ll change,” Trista says with a serious face. “When real-life bullshit bleeds into your happy Fletcher Mountain love bubble...” She sighs heavily. “It really puts a damper on things.”
Dakota and Cozy both go quiet, clearly in the know about something going on with Trista that I’m not aware of.
“Everything okay?” I ask, tilting my head and watching the mood shift in Trista, who’s normally so happy and upbeat.
“It’s fine, I just got a call from my parents the other day and it’s really rattled me.”
I frown curiously. “Do you not have a good relationship with them?”
“I haven’t spoken to them in years. Didn’t even know where they lived.”
My throat feels dry as I immediately relate to her circumstances, shocked that we have something so traumatic in common. The timing of this discussion is wild because my heart is still recovering from my emotional confession to Luke last night. Discussing my mom’s final departure from my life was so not on my bingo card this week. Nor his, I’m sure. The poor guy probably just made bread with me because he felt sorry for me.
But once I started opening up, I couldn’t stop. I’ve lived so much of my adult life wondering what would have changed ifonly my mom had said goodbye. If only she’d given me one final hug, maybe I wouldn’t wince at the touch of other women and live with this uncertainty about what I’d be like as a mother.
To know Trista can relate on any level is shocking. Confessing my past with these women, kind as they may be, will take me some time, but I can’t help the words that tumble out of my mouth next.
“Can I ask you a question?” I ask, feeling like the beer is giving me a bit of liquid courage. “From everything that I can see, you’re an amazing mom and you and Wyatt are perfect for each other.”
“What’s the question?” Trista eyes me thoughtfully.
“If you had such shitty parents, weren’t you terrified of turning out just like them?”
Trista’s face scrunches up in disgust. “God no. I’d never be like them because I’ll never join a cult for one and—” she huffs out a shaky breath before adding “—I’d kill myself before I let my kid go hungry.”
Silence descends over the table as the weight of that last statement resonates with us. Trista’s eyes well with tears and I feel my own begin to blur as I stare at her. She’s being so open and vulnerable.
God that must feel good.
“I almost turned out like my parents,” Dakota interjects with a pensive look. “But I got out of my shitty marriage and didn’t let it turn me bitter. Then I found Calder and I can just tell it’s right. I’m not ready for marriage or anything, since it feels like I just got divorced. But... he’s it for me. I can be myself with him and that’s what I was missing from before.”
Cozy squeezes Dakota’s hand and adds with a soft smile, “I think I brought the best out in Max when we met. He needed someone to tell him it was okay to take a breath and I like being that soft space for him.”
I smile through watery eyes as I look at the three amazing women standing before me, showing me everything they found in life, despite some of their circumstances. While they might have some complaints about the pushiness of their Fletcher men, I can tell deep down, they know they struck gold.
And so have I with Luke.
As a best friend.
“This is deep talk for a dive bar, you guys,” Trista mumbles around a chunk of ice.
Dakota nods aggressively. “Yeah, and this is supposed to be a bachelorette party, not a group therapy session.”
“Let’s go somewhere we can dance,” Cozy begs, her eyes flashing back and forth between all of us.
“It’s like four o’clock in the afternoon,” I laugh and glance at my phone to confirm the time.
