Page 120 of Learn Your Lesson

And at this point, I was pretty sure it was the only thing saving me.

I couldn’t believe a whole month had passed by like this, in a routine I never thought I’d find with a man I never imagined a place with.

March Madness — that’s what it was.

I felt like a completely new woman as I walked the sidewalk that led to my mom and grandma’s house on the evening of my mother’s birthday. Things had been so busy with school and Ava and Will that I hadn’t seen them since before I moved into the pool house.

I wondered if they’d see what I felt, if they’d take one look at me and catalog all the ways I was different.

But before I could even open the front door, it flew open, and grandma tackled me in a hug that almost sent the cake I’d baked for mom flying out of my hands.

“There’s our girl!” She hugged me tight, inhaling my scent like I’d been pronounced dead at sea and then just showed up alive. “Oh, let me get a good look at you.”

She framed my arms in her hands, pulling back and shaking her head on a smile. I waited for her to narrow her gaze and sniff out the fact that I was getting my backblown out weekly by my boss, but before she could, my mom shooed her out of the way and took me in her own embrace.

“Sweetheart, my little Chloe Bear,” she said, and as much as we had our moments, just the sound of my mom’s voice like that turned me into a little girl again. I melted into her hug, heart full as I squeezed her back. “It’s so good to see you.”

“Good to see you, too, Mom,” I said. “Made your favorite,” I added, holding up the cake saver once she released me.

“Red velvet?!”

“With the buttercream icing.”

“You’re too good to me.”

She kissed my cheek, and then Grandma took the cake from my hands and Mom looped her arm through mine, guiding me inside.

The house my matriarchy shared was just right for them. Nestled into a vibrant senior community complete with a golf course, swimming pool, and club house that hosted Bingo weekly, their home was a three-bedroom, one-story ranch house with the classic Floridian flare. The outside was painted a bright turquoise blue, the barrel-tiled roof a rustic brick color, and palm trees framed the driveway and sidewalk up to the house.

Inside, both personalities shone through. My mother was a tidy woman, minimalistic without the urge to hold onto much. The house was always spotless, even if she wasn’t expecting me, and each piece of furniture was carefully selected and decorated with sparsity in mind. The entire house had the feel of a model home, like anyone could walk into it and live there for a month without feeling out of place.

My grandmother’s personality showed with the kitchen being the only messy space allowed in the house. She was always in there baking or cooking or rolling out bread dough, and she had so many gadgets from the TV buy-on-demand programs that there was hardly any counter space left.

There were only a dozen pictures on the walls, and all of them were of us. My school photos. Our girls’ trips. Holidays throughout the years.

None of them showed my father or grandfather.

“Let’s play Rummy now and eat cake later,” Grandma declared, putting the cake in the kitchen. She stopped long enough to pour us three glasses of lemonade before she led the way to the dining room table already set up with cards. “We have so much to catch up on.”

“Yes, like how your grandmother here has a new enemy at water aerobics.”

“Worse than Genevieve, if you can believe it,” Grandma mumbled.

“No one is worse than Genevieve,” Mom argued.

Grandma snapped her fingers as she took her seat. “Oh, you need to tell her about the Bingo drama, too.”

“Lord, that’ll take all afternoon. And besides, I want to hear about my daughter,” Mom said, beaming at me as Grandma started shuffling and dealing the cards. “It’s been so long.Toolong. Tell us everything. How’s school?”

“How’s that sweet little girl you’re nannying for?” Grandma asked.

I waited a beat, arching a brow, because I knewoneof them would ask what they really wanted to.

Grandma didn’t take her eyes off the cards, but her expression was prim. “And is thatfatherof hers behaving himself?”

There it is.

“I was wondering how long it’d take you to spit it out,” I teased.