Janie
The flames lick upward, catching on bits of wood and curling into orange tongues. I exhale into the silence, finally able to breathe.
My wine glass dangles from my fingertips, half-empty like my thoughts.
The phone wobbles against the wooden arm of the chair. Gemma’s face fills the screen, her smile bright even in the thumbnail.
“Hey, you,” I announce after pushing the speaker button.
“You sound exhausted. You still going through all the insanity, or just a long day at work?”
I laugh, the sound surprising me. “Both? Neither? I don’t know anymore.”
“So, things are still brutal dealing with Warren? I was hoping something would give, one way or the other.”
The fire cracks, sending a shower of sparks upward. “I mean, I guess I could say things are slightly better. Hard to get much worse, so that’s a low bar.”
“Slightly better is an improvement. Tell me more.”
“He came for dinner the other night after soccer. Beckett invited him in front of me, and we were both like deer in headlights. When Becks begs, Becks gets.”
“So, he came over. How was it?”
“That’s where the slightly better comes in. We actually talked, instead of grunting and avoiding eye contact. It was the first time since he found out that there was a semblance of civility between us.” My throat tightens. “After all the shouting and rage, he finally told me he respected what I’d done. Raising Beckett alone.”
Gemma clears her throat dramatically. “Um, alone? Hello.”
“I swear I gave you credit too.” I grin through sudden tears, grateful for the phone call instead of FaceTime tonight. “You were my lifeline.”
“Damn straight. And you were mine. We were Thelma & Louise, right?”
The levity steadies me, but something deeper lingers. Warren respects me. That admission has had me on a high since Saturday. Something is shifting between us, and I’m not sure if that’s good or bad.
“So what now?” Gemma’s voice cuts through my thoughts.
“I don’t know. He said he’s still angry, so it’s not like everything is hunky-dory. He left, locking back down the familiar chill. But?—”
“But…?”
“Just the tiny peek of light between his steel guard, the concession that he appreciated juggling everything to take care of Becks… I guess I'll call it progress.”
“I’m glad for you, then. You guys are now forged together, whether you like it or not. He’s still processing, but it sounds like once the dust settles, hopefully at the very least, you two can be friendly.”
My heart sinks. I don’t want just friendly. But she’s right, that’s still better than being frozen out.
“Oh, and guess what. My mom told me today that she invited Warren to Thanksgiving. She’s obsessed with how much she thinks he’s stepping up to be the father figure in Becks’ life. She has no idea how close she is to the truth, and yet is completely oblivious.”
“Shit. Yep, you two have to figure out how to be friendly. I think you’re stuck together.”
“Yeah. Friendly.” My chest twists tight, making it hard to breathe.
“Beckett will be thrilled.”
“I know.” That’s exactly what terrifies me. I break a little more every time I watch them together, knowing how much they deserve to be together, and I'm the one who kept them apart.
I stare into the fire, watching the flames dance. A beep comes through, and I glance at the screen to see my mom calling in.
“Hey, Gem. My mom’s calling on the other line.” I swallow hard. “I need to grab that. Can I call you back?”