smile enough. Matter of fact, we have plenty of laughs when you and Traci visit me in Augusta.”
Betty shook her head. “They’re not like the ones you had out by the bonfire tonight. You looked like your old self again wearing Logan’s hat and grinning. I don’t know what he did to coax it out of you but he did it right.”
Amy’s face flamed. She sat back, dodging Betty’s narrowed gaze. “We went for a ride, is all. I just haven’t ridden in so long it was nice to race again. I forgot how much I enjoyed it.”
Betty released her arm and retrieved her cup. Amy dug into the plastic bag of marshmallows on the table, plucked one out and plopped it into her cocoa. It bobbed around in the dark liquid, melting in white streaks around the edges.
She pressed the cup to her lips and the sickly-sweet foam of the melted marshmallow clung to her gums, rolling her stomach. She dropped the mug to the table with a clang and pressed the back of her hand to her mouth.
“Are you okay?” Betty leaned forward, brow creasing.
Amy nodded and swallowed. “Yeah. I haven’t been feeling well, lately.”
Her hand shook. Betty’s gaze clung to it. Amy shoved it between her knees below the table.
“Baby, you know you can come to me for anything, right? No matter how old you are?”
“I know.”
“Well, I’m here if you ever want to talk.” Betty shifted forward, mouth opening and closing a time or two. “About your new job or the move.” She shrugged, fiddling with the handle on her cup. “Or Logan.”
Amy’s lips twitched. “Smooth delivery, Mama. Real smooth.”
Betty flushed and waved a hand in front of her face. “I forget you have so much of your father in you.” She smiled. “He never had much use for tact, either.”
Amy laughed, the churning in her gut easing. Betty was right. Her dad had always been blunt. They reminisced about his many missteps and before long, Betty joined her, doubling over and holding her belly as she chuckled. At the same time, Betty’s eyes darkened with sadness over the loss of her husband.
The nausea returned and Amy’s laughter broke away, fading with each jerk of her shoulders. Amy fought for air, her lungs burning. She pressed a weak fist to her chest, fighting to regain composure at Betty’s shocked expression.
“I’m scared, Mama.”
Betty moved quickly to the seat beside Amy and hugged her close. “Of what?”
Possibly being pregnant. Losing another child. Losing Logan. Her throat closed and violent chills racked her body.
“Try to relax, Amy.”
Betty’s voice trembled. Her hand moved in warm circles over Amy’s back, slowing as the spasms subsided and resting between her shoulder blades.
“Now, what is it you’re afraid of?”
“Everything,” Amy whispered. “Leaving. Staying.” She clamped her trembling lips together. “Myself. I don’t know who I am anymore.”
Betty smoothed her fingers through Amy’s hair, tucking a long wave behind her shoulder. Amy leaned into her, craving the soothing touch as much as she had when she was a child.
“Maybe that’s because you’re trying to be someone you’re not,” Betty murmured, gesturing toward Amy’s necklace. “When did you take that ring off your finger and string it around your neck?”
Amy bit her lip. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Everything.” Betty squeezed her hand. “I know losing Sara was difficult. I knew you needed to heal and I thought leaving here for a change of pace was the best thing for you at the time.” She shook her head. “But you carried it with you.”
Amy licked her lips, the taste of salt lingering on her tongue.
Betty grabbed a cloth napkin from the table and dabbed at Amy’s cheeks. “I think you’ve been so determined to get some distance from the bad that you forgot about the good.”
“What good?” A scornful laugh burst past Amy’s lips. “Not one single thing I did was good. I lied. I hurt Logan. Not to mention Sara—” Her voice broke. She stilled Betty’s hand, taking the napkin and wiping her eyes. “But I’ve been trying to be someone good. Someone better. What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing,” Betty whispered. “So long as you remember that no one can be perfect no matter how hard they try. We’re, none of us, saints or angels. We all make mistakes.” She tugged Amy’s hands to her lap and eyed her. “If you don’t mind my asking, who is it you’re really doing all this changing for?”
Amy ducked her head and picked at the hem of her shirt. “Logan, I suppose.”
Betty sighed. “I know I should be objective right now. Tell you how proud I am of you for being so repentant and selfless.” She slid closer, smile tight. “But I won’t. You’re my girl, Amy, and I’m proud of you. Always have been. I’d hate to see you change the things I love most about you to impress a man. Even if he is a good one.”
“There’s more to it than that.”
“Is there?” Betty asked. “You used to like who you were and were proud of it. You were so brave and headstrong.” She smiled. “I remember watching you fall off a horse more times than I could count. Was scared to death you’d hurt yourself. But you’d get right back up, brush yourself off and try again. Every time. And you kept on trying until you got it right.”
“Or got it wrong,” Amy choked out. “I kept right after Logan, too, and look how that ended up.”
Betty took Amy’s hands in hers and squeezed. “You’ve always lived hard and you love just as hard. Your heart was in the right place no matter how wrong you went about it. Your daddy was the same way and you remind me so much of him. That’s why it’s so hard for me to let you go.” Her eyes watered. “I’m not going to lie to you. I don’t want you to move so far away. But I do want you to be happy. If that means moving to Michigan then I’ll support you. Traci and I will visit you just as we’ve been doing.” Her features firmed. “But no matter what you decide, I won’t help you hide yourself away. I love you too much to support you in that.” She tapped a finger against the ring at Amy’s neck. “That one mistake has been weighing you down long enough. It’s past time to set it down, forgive yourself and live again.”
The tension in Amy’s muscles eased, the tightness seeping away and leaving a soothing stillness in its place. She hugged Betty, absorbing her strength.
“Now.” Betty squeezed Amy close. “How ’bout I sneak us a few sugar cookies and we pile on the couch and watch a late movie together like we used to?”
Amy sniffed and smiled. “I’d like that.”
They stayed up and watched the last hour of one of their favorite holiday comedies, nibbling on cookies and sharing laughs. Betty’s eyes grew heavy and Amy kissed her cheek, suggesting it was time to turn in.
Betty
