“And it’s not like you’re going to lock her inside all day after we move in upstairs. We’d be keeping an eye on her, not babysitting her twenty-four seven.”
We. I didn’t point out that I hadn’t made up my mind about that.
“Relax—I’ve got this,” he told me. “By the way, I’ll be home in two days. I have another meeting with that investor I was telling you about, so I can’t really stay here any longer. And Topper’s assistant was able to switch the name on the flight. Is that okay?”
Two days? Granted, I knew that’s when my flight had been scheduled. But that was so soon, and I was no clearer on whether I wanted to get back together with him.
Yes, you are. You know exactly what to do.
I swatted the air, like that was enough to get rid of that pesky voice in my head. “Of course, that’s fine,” I said. Except what if my mother started creeping upstairs at night again, or slipped out of the house?
“Laine, she’s really fine,” said Josh, answering my silent questions.
“All right,” I conceded. As he’d pointed out, she’d already been alone for a long time. Her memory loss would get worse—but not right away. I was overthinking this. “I’ll talk to Hadley and Piper about having them check in on her after you leave,” I told him.
“Perfect. This meeting is super important, so I appreciate that. Laine?”
“Yeah?”
“I couldn’t do this without you, you know. And even if I could, I wouldn’t want to.”
“Thanks, Josh,” I said. Hearing him voice his appreciation filled me with warmth. “I’ll see you soon.”
It was only after I’d hung up that I found myself wondering why, after our big talk the other day, neither Josh nor I had broached the subject of children.
“So . . . I’ve changed my mind.” Melinda Mahadik was smiling at me, all bright white teeth and frenetic energy.
“No problem!” I said, making sure to sound upbeat, because this was a big gig and I did not want to mess it up.
I’d called Melinda shortly after speaking to Josh to set up a time to do a consult. “Oh no, I don’t need a consult. You’ve got the job,” she’d said. “I have seven rooms in desperate need of an organizer, and I don’t want a stranger in my house.” Then she threw out a figure that was nearly as much as I’d made from all of my other jobs combined and asked me to come by that afternoon.
Now I was standing in her mudroom, which was still teeming with winter gear—coats and boots, a pair of sleds, and a set of snowshoes.
“Instead of the mudroom, I think you should tackle the game room,” she said. “We’re barely ever there.”
It didn’t really make sense to start in the room that the family used the least. But the customer was always right: that’s how I’d approached my other organizing gigs, not to mention my freelancing, and wasn’t that a large part of the reason I’d always kept busy? “I can start wherever you’d like,” I said.
“I was hoping you’d say that.” She’d started walking toward one of the many halls off her great room, but she spun around suddenly. “Are you sure this isn’t weird for you?” she said with a grimace.
“I take it you heard about me and Josh, then?” I said with what I hoped was a casual smile.
“Josh told Ravi, who, of course, told me,” she said, glancing out the floor-to-ceiling windows through the great room. We weren’t couple friends with Melinda and Ravi, but they often invited us to parties, and I’d spent plenty of time in their meticulously landscaped yard.
“The divorce is kind of on hold right now.” I was surprised to realize how good it felt to say that out loud. “We’re talking things through.”
Melinda’s face lit up, and I felt like I’d done something good. “I am so happy to hear you say that!” She gestured for me to follow her down the hall. “You guys are such a great couple. I’d hate to see you split up. And dating after divorce—eek,” she said, her expression turning sour. “My sister’s doing that now, and she tells me it’s kind of a nightmare.”
Suddenly Ben’s face popped into my mind, and although obviously Melinda couldn’t hear what I was thinking, I found myself blushing. I wanted to be friends with him, I reminded myself; nothing more. Any hint of romance was just my brain’s way of coming up with ways to quickly fill a Josh-size vacuum. Besides, it was looking increasingly unlikely that Josh and I would separate. And wouldn’t staying together solve almost all of my problems? Find someone to be the father of my child? Check. Not draining our savings to pay a divorce attorney? Check. Having help with the child and my mother, making my sisters happy, keeping everyone one big happy family? Check, check, and check.
“Yeah,” I said to Melinda. “I’d rather skip that if at all possible.”
“Right?” she said, directing me into the game room.
The room was nine different types of disaster, which made my heart flutter with excitement.
“So. I definitely want to have built-ins installed,” said Melinda, surveying the mountain of board games pushed against one wall. I’d never been envious of someone else’s mess before, but I couldn’t help but view the disarray as a sign of a happy family. Would Josh and I have a similar mess in our house one day? I was having a hard time imagining it. “What do you think?”
“I think built-in shelving is a great idea,” I told her.
“Do you have a guy?” she asked in a tone that informed me she expected me to say yes.
I did not, in fact, have a guy, and I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d bit off more than I could chew. But Josh was always telling me I was resourceful, and surely I could rely on that trait now. “I’m certain I can find a great contractor or carpenter. That does mean we’ll have to start in another room. Are you okay with that?”
She frowned.
I felt a little flutter of panic in my gut. “How about the kitchen?” I suggested brightly, plastering a smile on my face. “There’s no feeling quite like opening your cupboards and drawers and seeing every pot, pan, and utensil where it belongs. You know what they say: a place for everything, and everything in its place.”
This seemed to appease Melinda, so we trotted back to the kitchen. I declined the espresso she offered me and began opening doors. Sweet Martha Stewart, I thought as I took in the contents of a cupboard under the marble island. Despite the kitchen’s outwardly tidy appearance, the hidden bits were in total disarray. I couldn’t wait to work a miracle.
“I’m going to take some measurements today; then I’ll need to purchase some shelving and containers to get things in order,” I told her.
“Do whatever you need to,” said Melinda before taking a sip from her tiny mug. “I just want to be able to find my can opener for a change.”
“I can absolutely make that happen for you,” I said, and this time, my smile was genuine. Productivity was to me what sunlight was to a plant; it was so good to feel useful! Really, short of being in love, it was possibly my favorite feeling.
Then it hit me: if I moved back to help my mother, I’d be really, really useful. All I needed to do was focus on that, and then the transition wouldn’t seem so bad.
“Awesome!” She threw back the rest of her coffee, then returned my smile. “I’m off to spin class, but you know how to reach me.”
I waved my phone at her. “Yep! Got your number. Have a great workout.”
I’d just slipped my phone back into my pocket when Melinda reappeared in the kitchen. I knew I was in trouble when she flashed her bright white teeth at me. “I was just in my closet looking for a different shirt when I realized I really need you to start in my bedroom. You don’t mind, do you?”
My eyes shifted to the pots and pans I’d piled on the counter. “Not at all.”
I kind of did mind, but the customer was always right. Especially when she was helping to fund my future.
TWENTY-TWO