“I’m a single mom to a five-year-old with no babysitter and a full-time job. What’s not to be stressed about?” I didn’t mean it literally, yet it was literal in every sense of the word, and I hated the way his eyes changed, sympathy for my situation apparent in them. “I’m okay, Len. Really. Thank you for checking in.”
“Oakley would have my ass if I didn’t,” he said, and he was right, she would. We’d grown to be great friends since she moved into town months ago. “Do you need the address?”
“I honestly don’t remember where I put the paper you wrote it on, so that’d be great.” I never lost so many things until I had Avery, then mom-brain kicked in and I was overly forgetful.
I slid him the notepad and pen from beside Avery’s drawing and he wrote the address down.
“Tell Oakley I said hi and that I’ll text her once I get a free moment.” Would I ever have a free moment, though?
“I will.” He set the pen on the pad, tapped the counter twice, then headed for the door. “See you later, Sage.”
“See you,” I replied as he disappeared out the door.
“Ready,” Avery said as she came to my side with her backpack slung over her shoulders.
“Let me just tell Gemma we’re leaving."
I peeked my head through the back door to find Gemma sitting at the table by the refrigerator. “I’m heading out.”
She didn’t bother to look up from her phone as she teetered on the back two legs of the chair. “You think your kid can clean up her mess?”
My eyes moved to Avery’s small table shoved against the wall, a breakfast bar wrapper and a colored pencil sitting on top. I briefly closed my eyes and inhaled a calming breath, though it did little to ease the frustration I felt toward Gemma. I grabbed the wrapper in a fist, shoving it in the pocket of my jeans, then picked up the single colored pencil.
Without a word, I headed back out to Avery, not bothering to put the pencil in her backpack as I grabbed her hand and headed out of the cafe to my car. Once we approached the trunk, I unlocked the doors and slid Avery’s backpack off before she got in the car to buckle herself into her booster seat.
Setting the pink backpack on the passenger seat along with the pencil, I shut my driver door and turned the key in the ignition. We lived in town, so the drive home was short. I pulled into the driveway that led up to the beige home—everything about it was bland, from the paint to the layout. But I couldn’t complain when our landlord left us alone and allowed pets.
Avery’s buckle clicked and she was out in seconds, running up to the door. Sliding out of the driver's side with Avery’s backpack in hand, I headed up the concrete pathway to the house, fitting the key in the lock and opening the door.
“Do you want to watch a movie?” I asked as she walked inside. I didn’t have the energy for much else, and while I was well aware that people shamed screen time, sometimes a mother just needed a minute. And a glass of wine. I was definitely pouring myself a glass of wine.
“Frozen?” she asked, not bothering to close the door behind us like I’d reminded her countless times to do so her cat wouldn’t run out.
Kicking the door shut, I set her backpack on the hook in the front entry. “Sounds good to me. Want to change into some comfy clothes and we can turn it on?”
She tossed her hair over her shoulder as she turned to me. “Are you getting in comfy clothes, too?”
I set my phone and pocket-sized wallet on the ivory kitchen counter. “How could I watch a movie without being comfy?”
I turned and put my hands out like I was going to tickle her, but before I could reach her, she erupted in a fit of giggles and darted down the hall. “I’m gonna catch you!” I called as I prowled down the hall.
“No, you’re not!” she squealed before shutting her bedroom door.
The smile on my face stuck as I dressed in gray sweatpants and an oversized black t-shirt. It was my first genuine smile of the day. Though it was summer, I loved my sweatpants no matter the temperature outside.
I beat Avery back to the kitchen so I poured the glass of wine I’d been craving since I’d first made it to work this morning. My phone buzzed on the counter as I set the bottle back in the fridge. Glancing over at it, I saw it was the same unknown number that’d been calling me for a few days now. I knew the area code by heart, having grown up in Portland, but there was only one person from my hometown who would be trying to reach me, and a call from them wasn't possible.
“I’m ready!” Avery announced as she zoomed by the doorway to the kitchen, straight into the living room.
“Be right there, Aves,” I called to her.
I set the glass on the counter, my hand trembling on instinct as I attempted to take a steadying breath. On impulse, my fingers came up to my necklace, fiddling with the charm dangling from it. My grandmother had given it to me as a little girl, and I wore it every day since. The piece of jewelry had become a comfort piece to wear, my hand always finding it when the nerves set in.
What if it was him?
What if he was out and trying to find me? Trying to find Avery?
My fingers shook around the rose gold jewelry. I had to breathe or it would get worse.
In through my nose, out through my mouth.
I counted to ten.
To thirty.
To whatever number it would take to make those thoughts fit back into the box they were supposed to stay trapped in.
Everything was fine.
He was still in prison for another couple years.
I had nothing to worry about.
Once I mentally hit the sixties, I grabbed my wine, heading out to the living room. Opting for our favorite sherpa blanket off the back of the couch, I tossed it over my legs, pulling Avery closer to my side with our cat, Pudding, on her lap.
We were safe here.
We had to be.
