A Million Little Things (Mischief Bay, #3)

“I’m sorry.”

“Me, too. I feel like I’ve wasted so much of my life on him. I’ve made choices because of him. Some were good, but some I’m really questioning.” She stared at her plate for a second, then looked back at Pam. “I bought my house thinking we would live in it together. I assumed that was where we were going. My house has three bedrooms. Three! I bought bedrooms for kids I’ve met twice. And my job—I’m not sure that was right. Quitting teaching. I make more money now, but I don’t love what I do. And I’m home alone all the time.”

She drew in a breath. “I had stupid breakup sex with Chad a few weeks ago and when it was over, I felt sick to my stomach. I’m done with him. Done. But I reacted out of loneliness. I want what everyone wants—someone to love, a family. I don’t want Chad back, but I resent the time I wasted. It was such a bad decision.”

“You’re being too hard on yourself,” Pam told her firmly. “You loved him and believed in him. When you figured out what was wrong, you dumped his sorry ass.”

Zoe smiled. “Thank you for that.”

“You did. You moved on. Now keep moving on. Are you dating anyone?”

“No. I want to, but I’m kind of stuck. I don’t meet any guys. I was with Chad for so long, I’ve kind of forgotten what I’m supposed to do. I guess I could go to a bar or something.”

Zoe held in a shudder at the thought. “What’s worse than not dating is that I’ve isolated myself. I don’t know how it happened, but it did. Last week I got stuck in my attic. The door slammed shut and I couldn’t get it open. I didn’t have my phone with me. All I could think was that I was going to die and no one would miss me for weeks.”

Pam’s mouth twitched. “Weeks? Really?”

“Okay, days. But I could still be dead and Mason would eat my liver.”

“Mason is?”

“My cat.”

“Cats do love liver. Tell me about your work.”

“I translate manuals into readable English. Sometimes the translation from foreign languages is difficult to understand, or the manuals are written by people who are seriously technical. I take that gibberish and make it understandable.”

“So what don’t you like?”

“Being by myself all the time. The company relocated to San Jose. Because of Chad, I didn’t want to go. They offered to let me work at home rather than lose me and I said yes.” Zoe dropped her head to her hands. “I’m such a fool.”

“Do you want to go to San Jose now?”

“Not really. But I really miss being in an office.” She raised her head. “I think about going back into teaching, but I’m not sure.”

“What grade was it?”

“Junior high English.”

Pam winced. “That had to be tough.”

“I know, right? Sometimes I think about getting my master’s but I’m not sure about that either. I’m lost and confused and I miss my mom.”

Pam reached across the table and squeezed her hand, then released her. “Of course you do. How long has she been gone?”

“It was a year last month.”

“I’m sorry. It’s hard. For what it’s worth, the good memories are always with you.”

“Thanks. I like thinking about her. I always feel like she’s close by.” Zoe swallowed. “Sometimes I think she’s really disappointed in me.”

“She’s not,” Pam said firmly. “It’s not wrong to love someone. What gets us in trouble is when we make bad decisions based on that love. But you got yourself out of the relationship and you’re moving on.”

“I hope so.”

“Are you close to your dad?”

Finally a subject that wouldn’t embarrass her. “I am. He’s great, but you know, a guy. There are things I can’t tell him.”

“Sure, because then he’ll want to fix things, and possibly beat the crap out of Chad.”

Zoe smiled. “He could probably do it. My dad’s in good shape.”

Pam grinned. “There’s a visual for you to hang on to. For the rest of it, stop thinking and start doing. The next time a nice, appropriate man asks you out, say yes. Look into getting your master’s. Figure out if you want to go back to teaching or not. As for being alone too much, make plans with your friends. What do you and Jen do together?”

Zoe bit her lower lip. Talk about an awkward turn in the conversation. Jen was Pam’s daughter. Zoe couldn’t say that Jen had become...

Pam sighed. “I know what you’re thinking.”

“I doubt that.”

“Jen has become something of a killjoy.”

Zoe stared. “You know?”

“Everyone knows. I can’t decide if I feel sorry for her or if she needs a good smack on the back of the head. I worried about my kids, maybe more than most, but nothing like this. She is obsessed with Jack.”

“The not talking,” Zoe murmured.

“The organic food. The cleaning products. Every time I go over, she asks me the last time Lulu got a bath. The only thing wrong with her son is that she won’t leave him alone for five seconds. He’s not talking because he doesn’t have to.” She paused. “Is that too harsh?”

“Not to me.”

“Well, I can’t say any of that to Jen. She would never forgive me. You’re not going to rat me out, are you?”

Zoe made an X over her heart. “I won’t, I swear.”

“Good. Now, how do you feel?”

Zoe considered the question. “Better. I need to stop wallowing and start doing.” She leaned forward. “I’m having a barbecue on Sunday. Would you like to come?”

“I’d love to. What time?”

*

Pam parked her SUV, collected her tote and headed into the offices of Moving Women Forward. MWF was housed in a small business park on the edge of Mischief Bay, about three thousand square feet that had been donated by a former client. Because of the cramped and shared office space, Pam did as much work out of her condo as she could. But every week or so, she had a meeting at the offices, either with staff or clients.