Page 4

Lainey

“So, what’s the verdict after week three at Mt. Pleasant High School?”

Lottie laid her head back on the headrest and sighed like she had just completed a triathlon. “I mean… it was pretty good.”

I couldn’t help but smile as I looked over at her. Lottie being happy was all I had ever wanted. “Yeah?”

She turned her head to face me and grinned. “Yes, Mom. It was good, and it’s going to be even better once I take my test to get my learner’s permit.”

“What?” I squeaked, nearly swerving into the next lane.

Lottie burst out laughing. “Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. You agreed that once we got settled, we’d go to the DMV.”

Unfortunately, she wasn’t wrong.

I had said that. But in my defense, I’d assumed “settled” would take much longer. I figured I’d have time to get used to the idea of my baby sitting behind the wheel of a car.

I had been very, very wrong.

The house was unpacked, our things were in all the right places, and the fridge was full. Hell, even the junk drawer was organized, which I considered the final boss of moving in. Lottie was thriving in school, and we hadn’t had a single emergency run to Target in over a week. We were settled.

“Mom,” Lottie said slowly, “the longer I wait to take the test, the more I’m going to forget. I took driver’s ed back in Oklahoma.”

“And we still need to find out if that counts in Texas.”

Lottie smirked like she had been waiting for that. “Already googled it. I’m a-okay to go.” She waved her phone at me triumphantly. “All we need to do is call and make an appointment, and then I’ll be the one driving us around.”

I merged into the turning lane and headed toward home, trying to suppress the full-body wave of anxiety. “I’ll call... soon.”

Lottie getting her learner’s permit was big. Huge. It meant that my baby wasn’t a baby anymore. Once she got her license, I’d be relegated to the passenger seat—and then eventually, not even that.

“How about Monday?” she suggested casually, like she hadn’t just aged me a decade with her last sentence.

“Next Monday, or Monday in, like, seven weeks?” I asked, lifting an eyebrow.

She rolled her eyes. “Monday as in today is Thursday, and you will be calling the DMV in three days.”

“Not in seven weeks?” I teased, trying to delay the inevitable.

“Mom,” she groaned, “you have to let me grow up a little bit.”

“Driving is more than growing up a little bit. It’s like... full-blown grown-up territory.”

“It’s just my learner’s permit. A baby step,” she reasoned. “You’ll get used to me driving with you, and then…”

“And then you’ll drive on your own, and I’ll never see you again.”

“Oh boy,” she laughed. “I think you’re being a little dramatic, Mom.”

I was. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t right.

“I’ll call the DMV on Monday and get you scheduled,” I said, pulling onto our street.

“Promise?” she asked, eyes wide with hope.

I nodded. “I promise I’ll call.” I didn’t promise that I’d schedule it for anytime soon, but that was a problem for future me.

We pulled into the driveway, the gravel crunching under the tires, and I tapped the garage remote clipped to the visor. The door groaned and rattled its way up. I eased the car inside and hit the button again to shut it.

Lottie unbuckled and grabbed her backpack while I grabbed my purse. Inside, the house welcomed us with its usual quiet warmth. It might have taken a lot of sweat and one unfortunate hammer-to-finger incident, but this house finally felt like home.

Lottie set her bag on the kitchen island and collapsed onto one of the stools.

I went straight for the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water and the container of sliced watermelon and strawberries I’d cut up last night. I set them in front of her and leaned against the counter.

“Do you have a lot of homework?”

Lottie nodded as she cracked open the water bottle. “Geometry and English. I have to read the first two chapters of The Catcher in the Rye .”

I cringed. “Oof. I always hated that one.”

Lottie laughed. “That bad?”

“I mean, I would much rather read something with a little steam.” I winked, and she made a face.

“Mom, ew.”

“Just being honest.”

She popped a strawberry into her mouth, then looked at me with a little more hesitation. “So... I have another question.”

She had already convinced me to schedule her permit test. What else was she planning to strong-arm me into?

“Hit me with it.”

“Tiff, Julie, and Desi asked if I could go to the movies with them Saturday night and then spend the night at Tiff’s.”

My eyes widened.

“It’s not a school night,” she rushed to add, “and I promise to be home by noon on Sunday. We can go to the farmers market Saturday morning like you wanted, and then you could drop me off at Tiff’s.”

The immediate answer on the tip of my tongue was no. I didn’t want to say it, but it was there.

She had friends. Good ones, from the sounds of it. That was what I wanted, right?

But sleepovers? At a new house with parents I hadn’t met?

“Just the four of you?” I asked, trying to keep my tone casual.

Lottie nodded. “Yup. They want to have a girls’ night.”

“No boys?”

She shook her head. “As far as I know, no. And if there are, I’ll let you know right away and then kick them in the nuts while I run away.”

I choked out a laugh. “Okay, I don’t think you need to go that far. But I would like to know if your party of four expands.”

Lottie held up her hand in a mock salute. “I swear I will tell you if it’s more than the four of us.”

“I’m going to want to meet Tiff’s parents when I drop you off.”

“Totally,” she nodded.

Lottie was a good kid. She’d never given me a real reason not to trust her. I had to let her go have fun, even if that fun didn’t include me.

I narrowed my eyes at her. “Did you throw in the farmers market to soften me up?”

She gave an exaggerated shrug. “Maybe. Did it work?”

I rolled my eyes and opened the fruit container. “It did. But for the record, I would have said yes without it.”

Lottie squealed and hopped off the stool to hug me. I wrapped my arms around her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. She smelled like strawberries and shampoo.

“I’m gonna work on my geometry before dinner,” she said, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. “Thanks for letting me stay at Tiff’s.”

I nodded and watched her walk down the hallway toward her room. She was humming, light on her feet, completely at ease in this new life of ours.

And I… wasn’t.

I turned back to the kitchen island and leaned on my elbows, letting out a long breath.

Life had been changing fast lately.

The divorce had knocked the wind out of me. Not because I didn’t see it coming, but because even when you’re braced for impact, it still hurts when you hit the ground.

Then Maggie died. My best friend. My constant. That loss hadn’t been braced for at all. It had just been a blindside, and I was still reeling from it.

Now Lottie was growing up faster than I could process. She was making friends, asking to go to movies and sleepovers, ready to drive and leave the nest, piece by piece.

And I was still… me.

Still figuring out who I was when I wasn’t someone’s wife or someone’s daughter or even just Lottie’s mom. I would always be her mom, but I was realizing I needed something else too. A hobby. A passion. A way to feel like I wasn’t just watching life from the sidelines.

I looked around our kitchen—bright and airy, the fruit bowl full, the paint samples still taped to the wall. It was a good house. A good start.

But it was time I figured out what came next for me .