they’re mistakes. When people try to color match or don’t like what they bought. You can get a gallon of paint for like five dollars.”
“I know it makes you happy to hear every penny squeak, but I’m pretty sure we can spring for a paint color we like, even if that means paying full price.”
He was teasing. She could hear it in his voice, see it in his gentle smile. She forced herself to stay relaxed, to accept the comment in the spirit he meant it. To not shriek that they needed every possible dollar they could save. That babies cost money and in her case, getting pregnant costs even more.
But they’d fought enough about that. About everything. She was going to need Rob on her side to get through the next few months. They had to be a team. By this time next year, everything would be different. They would have a family. She was sure of it. Because this time, she knew there was going to be a miracle.
“Mommy, can Boomer and Jasmine get married?” Kennedy asked from her car seat on Friday afternoon.
“No, they can’t.”
“Because they don’t like each other?” Kenzie asked.
“They like each other fine,” Gabby said as she pulled up and joined the line of cars waiting to pick up teens from the twelve-to-fifteen-year-olds’ summer camp. It was, of course, on the other side of the park, with the same start time as the one the twins attended. She sometimes wondered what the city planners were thinking when they decided schedules, start and finishing times, not to mention which streets went temporarily one way in the morning and evening. She wanted to believe they were doing what they thought was best to keep traffic flowing. That no one was secretly watching the mess everything became, giggling as mothers with kids in two different age groups scrambled to essentially be in two places at once.
“They can’t get married because Boomer is a dog and Jasmine is a cat and we don’t have pet marriages.”
“But what if they love each other?” Kenzie’s voice was dreamy as she asked the question. At five, “loving each other” was the ending to nearly every fairy tale. Well, and “they lived happily ever after,” which was practically the same thing.
Gabby briefly thought that if she were a better mother she would find more self-actualized stories to read her daughters. Stories where women ran corporations or started businesses or became doctors rather than were princesses who got engaged because they were beautiful and vapid.
A problem for another day, she told herself, then groaned as she glanced at the clock on the dashboard of her SUV.
She was five minutes late because the twins had refused to buckle up when she’d collected them. Those stupid car seats, again. They loomed larger every day.
She inched forward, one in a long line of cars, and reminded herself that she only had to get through the next hour or so before she could relax. She would get the kids their dinner, then go upstairs into the master and take a long bath while Andrew—
“Sugar!”
It was as close to a swearword as she allowed herself these days. Because there was no bath in her near future. She’d forgotten she and Andrew had an event that night. Something work-related, maybe. Or maybe political. She couldn’t remember. Double sugar. Were her black pants back from the dry cleaner?
The car behind her honked. Gabby realized she’d let precious space open up between her and the car in front. She eased forward, trying to figure out what she was going to wear, all the while listening to Kenzie and Kennedy discuss what Jasmine would wear if she and Boomer could get married. It wasn’t the dress that stumped them so much as the wedding bouquet. How would a cat carry it down the aisle?
Gabby looked at the few kids still standing on the edge of the park and spotted Makayla. Her stepdaughter was tall with impossibly long legs. Her naturally blond hair hung halfway down her back. She wore a loose, flowy sleeveless shirt over shorts. She was pretty and still a little gangly, but in a couple of years she was going to have that easy beauty women everywhere envied.
Makayla looked a lot like her stunning mother. Around both of them, Gabby felt short and bottom-heavy, neither of which was Makayla’s fault.
Gabby pulled up to the curb and watched the teen approach. Her stomach tensed as she tried to judge her mood. It was Friday on a visitation weekend, which meant things could go either way.
“Hi,” Gabby said brightly as Makayla opened the passenger front door.
“Hi.” Makayla slid onto the seat and fastened the belt before turning toward the twins. “Hey, munchkins.”
“Makayla!” Both girls greeted her happily.
“We think Boomer and Jasmine should get married,” Kennedy added. “In a white dress.”
“Huh. I don’t think Boomer would look good in a white dress, do you?”
The twins laughed. Gabby smiled, imagining their basset hound draped in white tulle.
“Not Boomer,” Kenzie corrected. “Jasmine.”
“Oh, that’s different.”
The knot in Gabby’s stomach loosened. Makayla was okay. There wouldn’t be shouting or door slamming this week. No sullen silences. She would get herself ready to visit her mother and then she would be gone for forty-eight hours. Odds were Sunday night would be awful—it usually was—but that was for then.
The highs and lows that came with being a fifteen-year-old were amplified by Makayla’s relationship with her mother. It was erratic at best. Sometimes Candace wanted to be all in and other times she saw her daughter as little more than an inconvenience. Sadly, she didn’t mind sharing that factoid with Makayla.
Gabby tried to understand that the resulting fits of rage and depression weren’t about her. Makayla needed to blame someone and Gabby was a safe target. When things got tough, there was always chocolate, and the knowledge that whatever else was going on, Makayla loved her half sisters.
Gabby drove through Friday-afternoon traffic. The three blocks on Pacific Coast Highway took nearly fifteen minutes, but once they made it into their neighborhood, the number of cars lessened.
Gabby had grown up not five blocks from here. She and her siblings had gone to the same elementary school as Kenzie and Kennedy. She’d attended the same high school as Makayla. She knew where the kids liked to hang out, the exact amount of time it took to walk home and the quickest way to get from their house to the beach.
Sometimes she wondered what it would be like to have moved here from somewhere else. To discover Mischief Bay as an adult. For her there was only complete familiarity.
She pulled into their driveway. Makayla got out of the SUV, then opened the back door to help the twins. Gabby went to unlock the front door. She could already hear Boomer baying his greeting and scratching to get out. The only thing preventing him from going through the door was the metal plate Andrew had screwed into place.
As soon as she opened the door, Boomer raced past her to get to his girls. Because while Boomer loved his whole pack, Makayla and the twins were his girls. He followed them around, did his best to keep them in line and when they disobeyed
