He nodded. “Ever since we decided we were going to divorce, I’ve been thinking that it’s time for me to try something new. Something different. I don’t know if being here will be better for business, but if this deal goes through . . . I think I’m ready for a fresh start.”
I knew exactly what he meant. I leaned over and hugged him. “I’m so happy for you,” I said. “You deserve it.”
“Thank you,” he said, hugging me back.
“Josh?” I said, my arms still wrapped around his bony torso. “I love you. I always will, even though we’re divorcing. I just wanted you to know that.”
“I love you, too, Laine,” he said. He was getting choked up, which made me feel teary, too.
“Thank you. I’m really sorry, you know.”
“For what?” he said as we let each other go.
“For not being a better friend to you,” I said softly.
“Yeah,” he said. “Me, too.”
The black-and-white kitten had just wandered in from the other room, and she immediately made a beeline for my foot, which she promptly began to circle as she rubbed herself on my ankle.
“Thought you didn’t like cats,” said Josh, eyeing her quizzically.
“I don’t,” I said, bending to pick her up. In fact, I’d called them furry aliens more than a few times. “But weirdly, this one kind of reminds me of Belle. It must be her coloring. Or the fact that she’s the smallest.”
“Laine Francis, cat lover,” said Josh, shaking his head in mock surprise. “Never thought I’d see the day. Maybe you’re ready for a fresh start, too.”
“I guess I am,” I said, as the kitten nestled against my chest, purring contentedly.
I squeezed my eyes shut, just for a moment, and thought of Belle. She hadn’t done us in; we’d done that all by ourselves. And just as she’d appeared in my life at the perfect moment, she’d left it at the right time, too.
Now here I was, with an opportunity to make the most of this new chapter. I just needed to find the courage to turn the page.
THIRTY-THREE
LAINE
Back when Hadley was going through her coaching certification program, she’d once remarked to me that, with few exceptions, there were no “right” choices; there was only what we made of any given decision. I found myself hoping this was true as I kissed my mother goodbye later that afternoon. Ben and I had an appointment to take the kittens to see a vet on Atlantic Avenue, and Josh was out meeting an old business school classmate of his; Hadley and Piper were both busy. So I had to choose between leaving my mom alone, and doing what she wanted, which was to take the kittens in to get their vaccinations and checkup. And yes, doing what I wanted, too; I didn’t know when I was leaving town, but as long as I was here, I wanted to see Ben as much as possible.
As I was fretting, it occurred to me that maybe I was thinking in black-and-white terms. In addition to making sure the kittens were healthy, my mother wanted to enjoy her independence as much as possible, and I wasn’t abandoning her for an entire day. Maybe there was a way to have everything I wanted—if only on a small scale.
After making sure my mother had her phone around her neck (that Hadley was even smarter than I gave her credit for), Ben and I walked over to the vet clinic. It was a cozy-looking place, with navy-painted trim and photos of all sorts of animals in the window. Really, it looked an awful lot like my vet back in Ann Arbor. The one I’d last walked into with Belle . . . and walked out of alone.
Ben was about to reach for the door, but he paused and stepped out of the way. “What is it?” he said.
“Nothing,” I said, trying to shake off the feeling that was creeping in. But it was no use; sadness was already spreading through me like quicksilver. Grief was funny that way—just when you thought you’d made it to shore, it pulled you right back under. “I just don’t like the vet. Not anymore.”
“Because of Belle?”
I nodded as the back of my throat tightened.
The urn, I thought suddenly. I’d left it on the mantel back in the town house. A shameful heat rose to my face. “I forgot her,” I muttered. “I can’t believe I forgot her.”
“Your mother?” said Ben.
“No, my dog.” I shook my head. “I left Belle’s urn in Michigan.” In the chaos of trying to get to New York as fast as possible, it had completely slipped my mind. I wondered if this was how my mother felt when she realized she’d forgotten something important.
Ben frowned. “Were you going to scatter her ashes in New York?”
“No,” I said, and now my shame and sadness were tinged with embarrassment. “I’m just . . . not ready to be without her yet, I guess.”
“But here you are. Managing all the same.” He set down the cat carrier he’d been holding and put his arms around me. “It’s okay, Laine. It’s going to be okay.” He looked into my eyes. “Do you believe me?”
I nodded, because I wanted to believe him.
“Hey—do you want me to take the kittens in myself? Because I don’t mind. You can go shop or something,” he said, gesturing to the shops up and down Atlantic Avenue.
Through the mesh walls of the carrier, I could see the kittens climbing on top of each other like crabs in a bucket. “No, but thank you. I think I can handle it.”
“Okay, but if you start to feel like you can’t, say the word and I’ll take over. All right?” he said.
I leaned forward and hugged him. “You’re honestly the best.”
“I’m not, but you can keep saying that,” he said, and I laughed. “Let’s go see about these tiny terrors.”
The veterinary clinic smelled like it was supposed to—wet dog and cat urine and bleach. There were a couple of dogs in the waiting area, but to my relief, both were small and yippy, like Piper’s dog. “Punters,” Josh used to call them when we saw them at dog parks. Well, he’d have to get used to her punter if he was going to be sticking around.
“You think you’ll get another dog at some point?” asked Ben, who was sitting beside me in one of the plastic seats lined along the window.
I shook my head. “Maybe one day, but not anytime soon.” Everyone said a puppy was as much work as a baby, and I was focused on the latter. I’d asked Dr. Kim’s office to put me back on their cancellation list, but I’d also left messages with a few other doctors—all in Michigan—to see if they might be able to see me. I’d need to tell Hadley that I wasn’t going to call her “fertility guy.” That wasn’t the hard part. Telling her why I wasn’t going to was much trickier.
Ben leaned in and whispered, “Laine? You okay? You’ve got a faraway look on your face.”
“Oh. I, uh . . .” I sighed and met his eyes. “I was just thinking about baby stuff. Family stuff, really. I’m seeing my sisters tomorrow—we’re supposed to talk about making plans for my mother.”
“What do you think you’ll say?”
I peered down at the kittens, who were still clambering over each other. Then I looked back at him. “I’m going to tell them that I don’t want to move back. I’m just afraid of how they’re going to take it.”
He took my hand and squeezed it lightly. “Let them react however they want.”
I frowned. “Obviously I know I can’t control their reactions. They’re their own people. I just don’t want them to be upset.”
“Yep.”
“But?” I said, because I could tell he had more to say but was trying to be gentle with me.
“Well, it’s just that if you’re worried about their reactions, you’re probably thinking that there’s some way you can say or do it that will make it easier. But there likely isn’t—and even if there was, wouldn’t it feel better to let things unfold the way they’re going to?”
I closed my eyes for a moment and tried to imagine the worst-case scenario. Piper pouting and accusing me of being selfish. Hadley going into hurricane mode—silent and eerily still, then exploding into action. Maybe they’d both run off or stop talking to me for a while.
No, that would have been my reaction, I realized suddenly. Because I was the one who avoided conflict at all costs.
And suddenly I saw it. As Ben had said, they were going to react however they reacted. All I had to do was leave room for them to have their own opinions and emotions while still having my own back.
I leaned over and kissed Ben’s cheek. “I’m so glad you’re here with me right now.”