“No, I’ll come get her.” But twenty-four hours more without Ella seemed like an eternity. “Is she asleep already?”
“No, Lena is giving her a bottle. Do you want to talk to her?”
Jess didn’t know who her mother was referring to, but she did want to talk with both. She wanted to listen to Ella coo nonsensical sounds and to Lena whisper her name. Loneliness grabbed her heart with icy fingers. She swallowed to keep the pain from her voice. “No, no, that’s fine. Just tell her I love her.”
“I will. Bye.” Her mom hung up.
Jess lowered the phone and stared at the black screen. The truth of what she’d said resonated through her like a shock wave. Love. She had meant Ella, of course. Not Lena. That would be absurd.
Yes, she had spent two nights with Lena and countless evenings talking and walking. But love? What she was feeling toward Lena wasn’t like the feeling she had for Ella—the unstoppable force of a waterfall taking everything that got in its wake with it without a chance of escape, frightening and exhilarating and unmistakable. No, her feelings for Lena were completely different, more like a wide river, calm on the surface but still deep and powerful enough to move its boundaries or dig canyons. Was this love too?
Yes. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“Everything okay?” Diana’s gentle question reminded Jess she wasn’t alone.
She blinked. Okay? A warm glow somewhere in her middle told her it might be okay to love Lena. What would she do with this knowledge? Could she, would she be brave enough to tell Lena? But she wasn’t ready to talk about it yet. “Yeah, I won’t see Ella for the next twenty-four hours.” She exaggeratedly rolled her eyes. “Who would have thought I’d end up such a sappy fool?”
“I’m sorry. That sucks.” Diana chuckled. “I shouldn’t laugh, but your cursing reminds me of the day Ella was born.”
After a second, Jess laughed with her. “I can only remember half of it, but we went through quite a collection of four-letter words between us.”
Lena placed the baby monitor on the table and opened the fridge to get some tea. Maggie’s muted voice was getting closer, and when she entered the kitchen, her expression and the tight set of her shoulders said it all. Jess must have called to say she’d be late again, for the third time. And it had only been a week since she’d gone back to work.
Wordlessly, Lena handed Maggie the glass of tea and filled another one, then picked up the baby monitor to go outside.
Having tea together on the patio had become their new evening ritual after Lena’s short walks with Ella. It wasn’t much compared to the hours she and Jess had spent wandering the park, but it helped to settle Ella after her evening meal. Today she’d fallen asleep on the way back and hadn’t woken when Lena transferred her to her crib.
If she was honest, the walks helped to settle Lena too. The work with Maggie was less demanding on her feet and more on her brain, so she needed the balance. But if she’d known Jess would be late again, she’d have taken a longer route.
“Did she say when she’ll be here?” Lena gritted her teeth as she sat on her favorite chair next to the bench Maggie had settled on.
“She didn’t know yet.” Maggie yawned and rubbed her eyes. “That girl is working herself to her grave. She’s barely recovered from her heart scare. Didn’t she learn anything?” It was rare for Maggie to criticize Jess aloud. Either she was getting more comfortable with Lena or more frustrated with her daughter. Or both.
“If you want to go to bed, I can wait up for her.” Lena wasn’t tired yet, and Maggie looked ready to call it a day.
“No, this is supposed to be your free time.” The care in Maggie’s voice was like a hug and helped her to let go of her tension for the moment.
“I don’t mind. I want to work on my sketch, and I can do that here as well as at home.” That was the truth. Since she’d given up her waitressing job and most of the massage lessons, she had much more energy to be creative.
Maggie studied her for a moment and seemed pleased with whatever she saw. “Thanks. If she isn’t here in half an hour, I might take you up on it.”
Before the thirty minutes were up, Lena went to the garden house to get her sketching supplies and a sweater. It wasn’t too cold to stay outside yet, but the warmth of the day had faded with the setting sun.
The light on the patio bathed the sitting area in an inviting glow, and Lena placed a vase with the handful of wildflowers and herbs she’d picked earlier in the middle of the wooden table.
Maggie rubbed the leaves of the pineapple mint and smelled her fingers as she stood. “That looks lovely. Will you show me the sketch tomorrow?”
“Sure.” Two weeks ago, Lena might have doubted the sincerity of the question and dismissed it as politeness. But Maggie was persistent. “Sleep well.”
Lena had completed the sketch and was halfway through coloring it with watercolors when steps crunched on the gravel leading to the patio. She cleaned the paintbrush in the glass of water and waited. It was later than she’d thought Jess would come, and the simmering anger flared again.
How could Jess do this to her mother? She was fit for her age, but grandmothers shouldn’t do the work of mothers. It had aged her grandma before her time to raise a child again. Lena still hadn’t forgiven her mother for the way she’d trampled all over her family.
Jess was pale, and even the soft light couldn’t hide the dark smudges under her eyes. “Hey.” She paused at the table next to Lena’s chair and smiled. Only the smile didn’t erase the lines around her eyes but deepened them.
Lena’s anger
