Page 90 of The Homemaker

So I’ll choose logic because I destroyed Murphy once by choosing love. I can’t do it again.

I spend my evening at the playhouse, grinning uncontrollably and even shedding a few cathartic tears. Where would I be today had I followed my passion for acting instead of following in my mother’s footsteps? I never would have met Chris. He’d probably be alive. And Iwouldn’t know Murphy Paddon. That world is hard to imagine.

When I return home, there’s a suitcase inside my front door, but it’s not mine.

“Hello?” I call.

Nothing.

I check the name on the tag.

Krista Yates

“Mom?” I shuffle toward the back door, but she’s not out back. Perhaps she went for a walk around the lake.

The real question is, what is she doing here? I text her.

Where are you?

She replies.

Visiting with your neighbors.

Neighbors?

“Oh no …” I cringe. She’s at the main house.

I head straight to the back door and let myself in, slipping off my canvas sneakers and adjusting the belt of my fitted denim jeans. Then I find everyone on the second-floor covered balcony, sipping drinks.

“Hello,” Vera says when I open the door. “Come have a seat. What can I get you to drink?”

“Sweetie,” Mom says, eyes wide as she stands, like she’s waiting for me to throw my arms around her and celebrate her surprise visit.

“I’m fine. Thanks, Vera.” I return a tiny smile and soft nod while turning down her drink offer.

“Who’s this girl?” Hunter winks at me as I skirtaround the perimeter of chairs to reach my mom. “I don’t think I’ve seen you with your hair down since the day we met.”

Keeping a smile plastered to my face, I release a tiny laugh. From the loveseat on the opposite side of the balcony, Blair eyes me, her legs draped over Murphy’s lap, her hand possessively on his chest.

“What an unexpected surprise,” I say to my mom through clenched teeth as we hug.

“Is there any other kind of surprise?”

Everyone laughs.

“I suppose not.” I sit in the swivel chair next to hers.

“I knocked on their door, looking for you of course, and the next thing I know, Vera invites me in for wine. Now I see why you love this house manager position.”

Vera and Hunter beam with pride.

Blair clears her throat. “Actually, your daughter is a homemaker.”

Murphy shoots her a look and squeezes her leg.

“What?” Blair shrugs. “It’s a niche job. I respect that.”

“What’s the difference?” Mom asks.