Page 148 of Balancing Act

They reached the Empwr booth, where the familiar slogan—Invest in Women’s Sports—was splashed across banners, T-shirts, hats, and sleek promotional materials. Beth picked up two brightly colored shirts and held one out to Sarah.

“How mortified do you think Lily will be when she sees us in these?” Beth teased.

Sarah examined the shirt, a playful smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. “Completely mortified. Even better if there’s photographic evidence. We should put them on now,take advantage of the free marketing. You know the cameras are going to find us in the crowd.”

Beth laughed. “You just want to say you wore Empwr before it was mainstream.”

Sarah smirked. “I’m just always thinking about business.”

They quickly stopped at the bathroom to change before continuing toward their seats. As they walked, Beth felt a wave of nostalgia wash over her.

“How many of these have we been to over the years?” she mused, taking in the familiar energy of a competition day—the chatter of excited families, the bright arena lights, the smell of chalk in the air. But this one—the trials—carried a different weight. Beth could feel it; she was sure Lily was feeling it, too.

Sarah let out a low whistle. “Too many to count. The tiny invitational meets. The big national and international ones. Remember that one in Texas where the AC broke?”

Beth groaned. “How could I forget? Lily was still in juniors, and we were melting.”

“And now here she is. Trials. The Olympic freakin’ trials.”

“I know. I think back to the little girl who used to cartwheel in a tutu through the living room and have us judge her routines. She’s always been a little force of nature. She gets that from you, you know. I see so much of you in her.”

Sarah smiled in a way that she tried to hide, a way Beth had always pretended not to notice, but it was one of the things she’d seen first about Sarah all those years ago.

“Really? Because I was going to say she gets that from you.”

Beth slowed slightly and turned toward Sarah, considering her for a moment. “I think she gets it from both of us.”

They reached their seats, and Beth’s eyes instinctively sought the mats below—and there she was. Lily.

Sarah leaned toward her, her voice low as she took Beth’s hand. “Whatever happens today, whatever the outcome is forher, she’s already everything I ever hoped she would be and more. I know I wasn’t always good at saying it back then, but watching you raise her, and how you love her and support her dreams? I’ve never doubted for a minute that you are exactly the mom she needed.”

Beth’s eyes lingered on Sarah as her words landed. The fear, the doubt, the quiet uncertainty Beth had carried for years—the constant undercurrent ofAm I enough for Lily?—lifted because she finally felt like she knew the answer. Yes. She was enough. She might not always be perfect, but Beth wouldalwaysbe enough.

She blinked hard, clearing her throat. “Are you trying to make me cry?” she said, eyes already darting away—landing on Lily, out on the floor, all fire and focus. She squeezed Sarah’s hand. Sarah, thankfully, did not follow up.

Jamie stood beside Lily now, her posture relaxed and focused, talking to Lily as she adjusted her grips. The past few weeks had been a whirlwind—Jamie’s re-entry into the public eye, the internet’s sudden fascination with their relationship, Lily’s now-viral clapback to a reporter asking one too many borderline homophobic questions about being raised by two moms, and the unexpected uptick in Beth’s art sales that had Sean grinning ear to ear—but in this moment, none of that mattered.

Jamie found Beth from across the floor, and a slow, knowing smile spread across her face as she lifted a hand in a wave. Beth waved back, warmth curling through her—the easy kind that came from knowing you were exactly where you were meant to be.

Lily turned then, spotting her and Sarah in the crowd. Without hesitation, she lifted her hands and shaped them into a heart.

Beth and Sarah, without missing a beat, did the same.

She had been afraid she was doing it wrong for so long—life, love, parenting. She had spent years searching for balance, for the right equation that would keep everything from falling over. But maybe there was no perfect formula. Maybe life wasn’t meant to be a balancing act. Maybe it was about learning to shift, to move with it, and to let go of the fear of falling.

She wasn’t scared of the unknown.

Not about the outcome of today for Lily. Not about Jamie’s test results. Not about how the shape of her life looked different from how she thought it would.

She was just here. And that? That was enough.

JAMIE

Her test results hadn’t come yet, and it was eating Jamie alive. It had been weeks, and she was still waiting, growing increasingly nervous each day. But she had to keep it together, because this weekend was about Lily. Bright arena lights illuminated the floor before them. Gymnasts carried whispered conversations with coaches, and judges scrutinized every last movement.

She pulled her thoughts away from the unknowns, centering herself on the here and now. Her therapist would be proud of her, Jamie thought, making a mental note to tell her about it during their next session.

“Jamie.” A small voice snapped her attention back to the arena. Lily had been preparing for her final routine of her Olympic trials—the beam. Jamie stood beside her, steady and calm, the way she wished she had been able to be for herself at Lily’s age.