“Laine!” gasped my mother. “We had a plan!”
“I would’ve had to go home at some point, Mom,” I said. “I don’t know how long I’m going to stay. But you told me to take what I need—and what I need is space.”
“Laine, should we go talk privately?” asked Josh. He looked nervous; he probably thought this was related to the divorce. And now that I was thinking about it, it was—at least a little. Having him around made it really hard to think clearly about our separation, especially in light of what he’d said about kids. So getting the heck out of Dodge would have an added benefit: I’d get to work through my thoughts about Josh, too.
“We’ll talk later,” I said. “Right now, I’m going to go pack my things. Don’t worry—I’ll call Topper’s assistant and have him transfer my plane ticket to you, so you won’t be stuck here indefinitely.”
“Laine, please don’t leave,” said my mother.
I glanced at her, but only for a second; if I looked any longer, I’d want to give her what she wanted instead of what I needed. “I’m sorry, Mom, but I have to,” I said.
Because there was a place for everything—and this was not my place.
TWENTY
LAINE
The skyline had just begun to disappear in the rearview mirror when Ben texted.
I’d been feeling awful—the pained look on my mother’s face as I wheeled my suitcase toward the door had me thinking that empowerment might not be worth its price. And yet I’d gotten in the car and driven off anyway, because for all my guilt, my conversation with Ben—and yes, the one I’d had with my mother—had revealed the real issue. Whether I had a child or not, with or without Josh, it was time to admit that I had a choice, just as my mother had said. And to prove that when push came to shove, I could make hard choices instead of doing what was easy just to keep the peace.
If only those choices didn’t make me, and everyone I loved, quite so miserable.
But then two little lines of text appeared on my phone, and my mood immediately lifted. Jeez, Laine, I thought. Just how starved for companionship are you, exactly? And if that’s the case, why the heck are you taking off on your own?
Actually, I was famished for friendship, I admitted as I pulled off the highway into a truck stop so I could read the text and respond, and refuel the car, which had less than a quarter tank of gas. Or maybe it was just that I really wanted to talk to Ben.
Know it’s still early(ish) in the day, but I wanted to see how things were going, he’d written. It was good to see you again
It was great to see you, too. Lots happening. Let me know if you have a minute to talk, I wrote back. If you don’t, no worries—will catch you up later
Moments later, he called. “I have a minute. All the minutes, actually—I’m off until tomorrow.” Over coffee, he’d mentioned that he was working as a private chef for an actor and her family who lived in a brownstone in Brooklyn Heights. They traveled frequently, but he was on retainer, making what he described as “good money for a super part-time gig.”
I laughed. “Well, I’m glad. Thanks for calling.” Across the parking lot, a trucker honked at a car that had nearly cut him off.
“Of course. But, uh, where exactly are you?” said Ben.
“New Jersey, actually. Getting gas.”
“Does that mean things didn’t go well?”
“Depends on how you define well. I decided to drive back to Michigan.”
Silence.
“Ben?”
He cleared his throat. “Sorry, I’m here. And I’m glad you’re doing what you need to do. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little bummed that you just . . . took off.”
Again. He didn’t have to say it; I cringed as I caught the subtext.
He continued, “We just started hanging out again, and while I know you said you weren’t sure about moving here, I guess I was hoping we could hang out again sometime soon while you were still in town.”
Did he? Now I couldn’t help but smile. “I know—I was hoping that, too.”
“Too late to point out that there are thousands of hotels in New York, and you could have rented a room at any one of them?” He was being playful, but I still felt sheepish. Driving back to Michigan was pretty extreme. And yet . . .
“It’s hard for me to think straight with my family around,” I said. “And right now, I have an awful lot to think through. Josh is going to stick around in New York for a few days until I can talk to my sisters about what we’re going to do with our mom. So that will buy me some time in terms of deciding whether I want to stay married.”
“Gotcha,” he said, and this time, I couldn’t tell if he was implying anything else. “So you think you’ll stay in Ann Arbor?”
“I’m not sure yet. I’ve got some things I need to deal with.” Including calling Melinda and seeing if she still wanted me to do the organizing job for her and Ravi. I’d been really excited about that. I still was, actually. Why had I so readily dropped something that was important to me?
Oh right—because I was a people pleaser. Well, no more.
“So the big news is that I told my mom that I knew about her and your dad,” I said.
“Whoa. And?”
“No surprise, she was upset. Said it was none of my business and denied that she’d told me not to get involved with you.”
“Good for you.”
“It doesn’t feel good, but I’m glad I did it.”
“I get it.”
Somehow I knew that he did. “Thanks,” I said. “And thanks for listening.”
“Anytime,” he said. “Keep me posted, okay? Maybe even let me know that you made it to Michigan in one piece?”
I was glad no one was around to see the smile that had surfaced on my lips. My life was kind of a wreck. My beloved dog was dead, I was contemplating divorce, and I had just yanked the rug out from beneath my mother’s feet—and my sisters’, really—after learning the terrible truth about her past.
And yet Ben was my friend again, and though I’d never admit it to anyone, that almost made up for everything else.
“Of course,” I told him.
“Already looking forward to it,” he said.
I was, too.
I got gas, then got back in the car and called Hadley.
“Laine!” she said as I was merging back onto the highway. “I just spoke to Mom. I can’t believe you just left! What happened? She said you said you needed space. Did you and Josh get in a fight or something?”
I sighed. “Nothing happened, Hadley. Well, that’s not true. Mom and I had an argument.”
“But you and Mom never fight!”
“Well, we do now.”
“What on earth were you arguing about?”
“I don’t want to say. You can ask her if you want.” It didn’t seem right to forever alter my sisters’ perception of our parents’ marriage without my mother’s permission. Not while she was still alive and able to tell them herself, at least.
“Really? We’re not in the habit of keeping things from each other.”
The highway blurred before me. “I know that, but this one’s not mine to tell, Hadley.”
“Fair,” she said. “But you didn’t even say goodbye to us.”
“I’m sorry about that. But I’m sure I’ll be back sooner or later.”
“So you’re going home to pack? Or does this mean you’re not going to move back, after all? I’m really hoping it’s the former, because it’s not like we can just call 1-800-Home-Aid and get someone in tomorrow. We need to interview people, and probably do a test-drive of some sort, and figure out all the money stuff. And I’m going to need your help with that, Laine.”
“I know,” I said softly.
“I’m still looking for a new nanny, and even though Topper’s picking up a ton of slack, we’re both sleep deprived and at our wits’ end. And I’m pretty sure Piper’s supposed to be doing a shoot in London in a week or two.”
“I know,” I said again. “And I promise I’ll come back. I just need some space first.”
“When will that be?”
“I’m not sure,” I admitted.