“If you want, I can make you one too,” Lucy said.
Addie nodded. “But you have to make one for Walsh too.”
“She watches out for little sister, doesn’t she?” Anna Beth said to Betsy. The two of them sat on the couch, their legs propped on the coffee table.
Betsy nodded. “For the most part.” Recalling the events of the last hour, she wanted to add that it would have been nice if Addie had been watching out for Walsh this morning, but she bit back the pointless thought. “They fight too—and over such silly things—but Addie takes her big sister job seriously, I think.”
“Still no word from Jenna?”
“Oh, there’s word, just nothing definite. The retreat shuts down in mid-August, and she’s not sure if she’ll stay until the end or leave early. They left it up to her to decide. She wants . . . She feels she still has more work to do before she wraps up.”
“And you’re just hanging on until then.”
Betsy shrugged. “We’re doing okay.”
Anna Beth shook her head and readjusted the pillow behind her back. “I can’t imagine. You’re taking to it so well. If my sister dropped her kids off at my house, I’d be hot on her trail, tracking her down and yanking her back here to take them home. Granted, her kids are full-blown teenagers and as sullen as the day is long. Nose rings, black clothes, the whole bit. Your two are a bit easier, I’d imagine.”
Betsy gave a small laugh, her fingers busy working a knot out of a long plastic necklace. When she loosened the strands, she handed the necklace back to Walsh, who quickly tied it back together. “I don’t know. In some ways, it seems kids who did their own thing might be easier.”
“Maybe. I guess there are pros and cons for all the ages.”
Betsy waited until Walsh scampered back to the kitchen table. “They’re just so . . . They need so much from me all the time. I feel like I’m constantly running on all cylinders. I’m not used to it. And losing track of Walsh? That was scary. I don’t know how Jenna does it.”
Anna Beth’s eyebrows scrunched together. “Sorry to tell you, but everything about parenting is scary. It’s good, but scary too. When you’re thrown into parenthood—whether it’s planned or unplanned—you just learn to figure things out. And feeling like you’re running around all the time? That’s part of it, but when it’s your own kids, it’s a little different. It doesn’t make it a total cinch, but I know Lucy’s and Jackson’s quirks and habits almost better than I know my own. When it happens for you, it won’t feel so chaotic.” She paused, listening to the thump and roar of the group of boys playing upstairs. “Well, that’s a lie. It’ll always feel chaotic. But you’ll be up to the task. You’ll be great.”
Betsy lifted a corner of her mouth in a sad smile. “I think you’re the only person who still thinks it’ll happen for us.”
“If you don’t believe it, then it’s my job to believe it for you. That’s a job I take seriously.”
Betsy sighed and smiled, thankful not to have to pretend with Anna Beth.
“I remember those days like they were yesterday,” Anna Beth said. “Not being able to get anything done without someone needing something right now. The potty, a snack, a Band-Aid, whatever. These days, the requests are just more expensive. This morning Jackson storms into my bedroom and tells me he needs four hundred dollars. Four hundred dollars. I asked him what in the world for, and do you know what he said? He said he needed it for a new PlayStation. I mean, the nerve.”
Jackson bounded down the stairs then, his buddies just behind him, all of them sounding like a herd of cattle thundering down the hallway. As he pleaded with Anna Beth to drive them up to the gas station for Slurpees and the girls at the kitchen table burst into laughter, Betsy closed her eyes. Just a five-second moment of nothingness. When she opened them, Walsh was digging in Betsy’s purse.
“Walsh, what do you need, honey?” She rose from the couch to pull Walsh’s curious hands out of her purse.
“My snack,” she replied. “I’m hungry.”
“Me too,” Addie called from the table. “What’d you pack for a snack? And I’m thirsty too.”
Betsy swiveled her head toward Anna Beth, one eye squeezed shut. “I forgot snacks.”
Anna Beth hopped up off the couch. “Don’t worry a thing about it. I have enough snacks to feed the neighborhood.”
After dinner that night, Walsh wanted to see the hens. “Can we go?” she begged, her brown eyes round and hopeful. A cookie crumb clung to her cheek despite a quick swipe with a handful of napkins. Betsy reached down and brushed it off.
“Please?” Addie was already shoving her feet into her shoes.
Betsy thought of her computer on top of the washing machine, where it had sat untouched since earlier in the day. An array of dirty dishes lay on the counter and table.
“I’ll take ’em.” Ty set his plate and glass in the sink. “Let’s go, girls.” He opened the back door and waited while they zipped under his arm and down the porch stairs. “You want to come too?” he asked her.
Outside, the light had softened into that perfect twilight hour when everything seemed easier, lighter, like anything was possible. The light crept in the kitchen windows and filled the room with a pink glow.
She shook her head. “You go ahead. I’ll finish up in here. Don’t keep them out long though. They need baths, then bed.”
“They do or you do?”
“Very funny.”
As she stood at the sink with her fingers under the faucet, waiting for the water to heat up, she watched the girls running around, using every bit of energy left in their little bodies. Ty pretended to
