Page 8 of Balancing Act (Soulmate #1)

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.

Beth poked 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-night stand, 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 decided how 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!

“It’s nothing. I had a frustrating training session. That’s all. But I don’t want to talk about it.”

“When you are ready, your mom and I are here if you want to chat.” Beth was fairly confident that if Lily ever did decide she wanted to open up to either of them, it wouldn’t be to her.

“I’m sorry,” Lily said, first to Beth, then Sarah.

“Apology accepted.” Beth searched her daughter’s face for any sign of the deeper thoughts going on in Lily’s mind.

Ever since Lily’s injury, Beth had found herself even more worried about her daughter as she chased her Olympic dreams, and the potential pitfalls that could come with it.

Lily had been so much easier to read when she was younger, but as she’d grown up, it was clear that Lily’s walls had grown with her, and Beth knew she was partially to blame for that.

“I got to say, team,” Sarah said, her face cracked in a grin, “we’re getting pretty good at this family communication stuff.” Beth looked at Lily, who looked at Sarah, before all three of them burst out laughing.

Their collective laughter lifted the energy in the room. Sarah had always known how to do that.

“Eww, Mom, you’re so cringe,” Lily said, as she opened the fridge.

“Lily, please put your headphones in your room and then help us with dinner.” As soon as Lily was down the hall, Beth rounded on Sarah.

“I wish you wouldn’t do that,” Beth snapped, her frustration getting the better of her.

“Do what?” Sarah asked innocently.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.

That thing where, when I ask Lily to do something and she doesn’t do it, you immediately butt in.

It makes it seem like I don’t know what I’m doing.

I’m her mother, too, and I don’t need you trying to parent her over the top of me. ” She could feel her cheeks going warm.

“Woah, hey. I’m sorry.” Sarah raised her hands.

“I didn’t mean anything by it, truly. I think we’re all adjusting to the recent changes.

” Beth knew logically that Sarah was referencing the change with Lily’s training and living arrangements, but a small part of her couldn’t help but feel like it was somehow a dig at her for being gone for the past year, even though Sarah had been the one to encourage her to go.

She eyed her ex before deciding that she was being touchy with the extra pressure she felt after her tour ended and juggling their new arrangement.

“I’m sorry. I’m just a little frustrated.”

“You want to talk about it?” Sarah’s hazel eyes sparkled as she touched Beth’s arm, gently squeezing it.

She leaned into Sarah’s touch the slightest bit as their eyes lingered on each other. This was exactly why Beth had been avoiding Sarah. She had always been a little powerless when it came to Sarah’s pull.

“I—”

Lily reentered the room, and Sarah dropped her hand from where it still held on to Beth’s forearm.

“You don’t need to be weird about it,” Lily muttered. “I can see you touching and not think you’re getting back together again. We’re waaaay past that.”

Beth’s cheeks continued to burn as she and Sarah exchanged another knowing glance.

“Let’s make dinner,” Sarah said, ignoring Lily. “Sean will be here soon.”

Beth and Lily eyed Sarah suspiciously, but Beth decided to drop it. She couldn’t deal with any more strangeness tonight.

Beth rattled off to Lily the list of ingredients they would need as Sarah opened the bottle of wine. They had set out the last dish when the front door opened and closed again, and voices called their greetings from the hall.

“Hi, hi. Sorry we’re late,” Sean called out. “I had a last-minute addition. Hope that’s okay.”