Page 12 of Balancing Act
The words slammed into Jamie, pulling her under like a wave she hadn’t seen coming. She’d lived enough secrets for one lifetime—dark, suffocating things that lingered like shadows long after they’d been uncovered. The last thing she needed was another one. But as she looked at Beth, with those azure eyesthat still made her stomach flip, Jamie could only nod. “Our secret,” she said quietly, the words heavier than she wanted them to be.
They stood in silence a moment longer before Jamie remembered why they had found themselves together in the first place. She cleared her throat. “To get to the parent’s viewing area, go up these stairs and directly across the hall. We’ll spend about two hours with Lily today.”
Beth nodded and began to ascend the stairs.
“Hey, Beth,” Jamie called after her, and Beth turned around a few stairs up, forcing Jamie to tilt her head slightly to meet her gaze. “I’m sorry I called you a cheater.”
“What? You didn’t,” she said quickly, confusion spreading across her features.
“I did.” Jamie smirked. “Earlier, in my head, I totally did.”
THREE
BETH
At seven thirty on the dot, a pair of headlights turned into the driveway right as Beth finished cleaning up from her day working in her small home art studio. She looked out the window, down the driveway lined by trees with leaves beginning to show the faintest hints of their changing hues as September yielded to the crisp fall air that October would surely bring with it.
After a year of traveling across the country, returning home felt oddly unfamiliar to Beth. It was even more peculiar to once again be Lily’s primary home. It had been years since Lily had lived with Beth full-time—not since the divorce, when Sarah got the house in Seattle. They had established a shared custody arrangement. However, given Lily’s rigorous training schedule and the proximity to her gym, Beth had grown accustomed to their weekly Saturday night sleepovers and Sundays spent together.
She was setting out the last of her brushes to dry next to the sink, patting her hands dry with a towel, when the slamming front door echoed from the hall. Then, Lily’s footsteps thundered downstairs, descending into the basement. Bethpoked her head out of the kitchen, toward the source of the disturbance of the quiet she had enjoyed all day.
Friday nights had always been family dinner night, a tradition their therapist had suggested after the divorce. For years, Beth took the ferry to Sarah’s, where they’d eat together—just the three of them, or sometimes with friends. Even through life’s changes, they’d kept that routine, because that’s what families do. That was until this past year, when Friday dinners were put on hold as Beth headed out on her tour.
The front door opened and closed again as Sarah entered the house. She paced back and forth in the foyer, one hand on her hip, the other holding the phone to her ear. She spoke quickly and sternly to whoever was on the other end.
“Mitchell, I don’t want excuses. I want you to figure it out. If the presentation is not in my inbox by 8 a.m. Monday, expect a phone call, and trust me when I say you don’t want that.” Sarah hung up the phone and dropped her corporate persona in one swift shift. “Hey. Sorry about that. Mitchell is driving me crazy again. I swear I’m this close to losing it.” She held her thumb and forefinger an inch apart in front of her, and Beth could see the frustration in her eyes.
Beth grinned. “I wouldn’t want to be Mitchell right now.”
A cautious silence lingered between them, heavy with the weight of uncertainties. They were both trying to find their footing, learning once again how to coexist—a dance they had performed too many times over the years. Beth hadn’t deliberately ignored Sarah’s recent invitations for dinner or coffee, but she hadn’t been proactive in returning calls either, unless they concerned Lily. To be fair, Beth’s plate had been overwhelmingly full. She’d been engrossed in the preparations for her final art show, settling back into life with Lily at home, and managing the unexpected integration of her one-nightstand, who she very much so had wanted to be a multiple-night stand, into her daily routine.
There simply hadn’t been room for anything else, least of all for navigating the complex waters of her relationship with Sarah. She knew it wasn’t fair. She and Sarah needed to sit down and talk about everything that had occurred over the last year. But talking had never been a strength of theirs.
“I—uh—brought these. Your favorite.” Sarah gestured to the bag slung over her shoulder, which contained two bottles of Beth’s favorite white wine.
Beth had always been quietly struck by Sarah’s ability to effortlessly transition between her roles with an almost disconcerting precision and efficiency. But she wasn’t that surprised. After all, that was so quintessentially Sarah—rigid in her routines, adept at compartmentalizing her life, and always moving calmly but calculatedly. Traits Beth had once admired.
“Thank you,” she said, taking the wine from Sarah. “Lily, my love,” she called down the stairs to the basement. “Come upstairs, please, and help your mom and me with dinner.”
Her words were met with the usual teenage grumbles. She exchanged a quick glance with her ex-wife.
“I meant to text you to give you a heads-up, but she’s in a mood, and before you ask, yes, I did try to talk to her about it, but then I had to take that call from Mitchell.” Sarah closed her eyes and rubbed her brow out of frustration. “Lily, now, please,” Sarah called down sternly, before following Beth further into the house.
Lily joined them in the kitchen in an oversized Stanford hoodie, the sleeves bunched up to her elbows. She must have dug the garment out from the depths of Beth’s closet to claim it as her own at some point, but Beth hadn’t noticed. Beth exchanged another glance with Sarah as they silently decidedhow best to handle their daughter. She lost the unspoken game of rock-paper-scissors they had been having with only glances.
“Lily.” Beth touched her hand to her daughter’s shoulder. “Headphones off, please. Let’s talk,” she said, miming removing the headphones that Lily had taken to wearing around the house when it was just the two of them, cocooning herself away from Beth.
Lily obliged, but not without making a show of begrudgingly removing her hood and headphones.
“Happy?” Lily placed her hands on her hips, those dark, stormy blue eyes giving Beth a glare that her teenage self would have been proud of.
“Yes. Thank you.” Beth spoke calmly, trying to keep her voice even. “But I’m not so happy about how you’re treating your mom and me right now. I hope you know we’re always here if you want to talk to us. Did anything happen today that you want to talk about?”
She earned herself an eye roll from her daughter, but Lily’s demeanor softened as she slowly let her walls down.
“No.”
“Lily,” Sarah warned from over her shoulder, and Beth closed her eyes briefly out of annoyance.Not helping, Sarah!