against Bailey Jenkins’s decision to have an abortion at age seventeen. Meg, however, had always supported a woman’s choice—no questions asked. She’d been the one to help Paul release some of his anger and move on fifteen years ago.
Until recently, Austen had held tough on the side of the church and moral grounds. But Mia remembered feeling sad for her brother but being unable to bring herself to support or condemn Bailey for her decision. Abortion wasn’t an option in Mia’s world, but when she’d found herself pregnant in law school—so close to the finish line after so many years of agonizing hard work…she’d been tempted.
Edward, who also was raised a Catholic, had convinced her they could still have it all—college, two careers, and a kid. All they had to do was get married and live happily ever after. As if saying the words provided the only magic required.
“Okay,” Paul said, smiling broadly. “Cool. We’ll talk soon. Do you want Mia…?” He listened a moment. “Will do. ’Bye.”
He pressed the end button and looked at Mia. “She said to call her later after you’ve done your judicial deliberation. She awaits the verdict.”
Mia sighed. Meg knew Mia would give in. Sending Emilee to Meg’s for a long weekend meant a respite from the fourteen-year-old drama queen who blamed Mia for ruining her life.
“Pearls,” she exclaimed, turning down the heat under the pasta sauce. “I remember, now. Mom said she planned to give Bailey Great-Grandma Hilda’s pearls. I know where she keeps them.”
Paul stood flat-footed, as if his shoes were glued to the floor.
“What’s wrong? Bailey’s not into pearls? She’s a bride. I think they’re obligatory.”
“Um…long story. Go ahead and give them to me. I’ll let Bailey decide if she wants to wear them.”
Mia didn’t have the energy to press for details. She motioned for him to follow as they headed down the hallway toward the master. Three bedrooms upstairs and two in the basement. Originally, her parents had intended to put the boys downstairs, but Meg claimed her “cave” before the main floor was even finished. Hunter now occupied Paul’s old room and Emilee was in Mia’s, which, thank God, Mom had redecorated years ago. No Top Gun poster. No over-achiever wall of fame. Her daughter probably would have slit her wrists if she’d been made to sleep in Mia’s childhood room.
“They’re in the wall safe.”
“Are they valuable?”
“Probably a little bit. But, we’re not talking crown jewels.”
“Should they have gone to Meg—firstborn daughter?”
The two siblings looked at each other and broke into giggles. “I can’t see Meg in pearls. Or a white gown,” Mia said. “Hiking boots and clean, camel-colored North Face hiking pants with a white shirt…maybe.”
Mia spun the dial, trying to recall the combination. Chemo brain was an actual condition, she’d been told, but she hadn’t believed it until she went to the bank one day and couldn’t remember the account number she’d had for seven years.
“Do you think Meg will ever get married?”
Mia stood on her tiptoes to look inside the safe. The old black velvet case was easy to spot amidst the stacks of papers and more impressive jewelry boxes. Dad loved to spend money on Mom. “If you’d asked me that a year ago, I’d have said, ‘No.’ Now, I’m not so sure. Ever since Edward left, she’s made a real effort to be part of the kids’ lives. The trip to DC last spring is one Hunter and Emilee will never forget. Watching Meg testify before Congress about the plight of the Yellowstone wolves was pretty cool.”
She handed him the box and held her breath as he pried open the top. His hands were strong and utilitarian compared to Ryker Bensen’s artist hands. Mom told her Louise Jenkins had gone on and on at the cake tasting about this talented young man who was recovering from some sort of traumatic experience before returning to his job as a
Until recently, Austen had held tough on the side of the church and moral grounds. But Mia remembered feeling sad for her brother but being unable to bring herself to support or condemn Bailey for her decision. Abortion wasn’t an option in Mia’s world, but when she’d found herself pregnant in law school—so close to the finish line after so many years of agonizing hard work…she’d been tempted.
Edward, who also was raised a Catholic, had convinced her they could still have it all—college, two careers, and a kid. All they had to do was get married and live happily ever after. As if saying the words provided the only magic required.
“Okay,” Paul said, smiling broadly. “Cool. We’ll talk soon. Do you want Mia…?” He listened a moment. “Will do. ’Bye.”
He pressed the end button and looked at Mia. “She said to call her later after you’ve done your judicial deliberation. She awaits the verdict.”
Mia sighed. Meg knew Mia would give in. Sending Emilee to Meg’s for a long weekend meant a respite from the fourteen-year-old drama queen who blamed Mia for ruining her life.
“Pearls,” she exclaimed, turning down the heat under the pasta sauce. “I remember, now. Mom said she planned to give Bailey Great-Grandma Hilda’s pearls. I know where she keeps them.”
Paul stood flat-footed, as if his shoes were glued to the floor.
“What’s wrong? Bailey’s not into pearls? She’s a bride. I think they’re obligatory.”
“Um…long story. Go ahead and give them to me. I’ll let Bailey decide if she wants to wear them.”
Mia didn’t have the energy to press for details. She motioned for him to follow as they headed down the hallway toward the master. Three bedrooms upstairs and two in the basement. Originally, her parents had intended to put the boys downstairs, but Meg claimed her “cave” before the main floor was even finished. Hunter now occupied Paul’s old room and Emilee was in Mia’s, which, thank God, Mom had redecorated years ago. No Top Gun poster. No over-achiever wall of fame. Her daughter probably would have slit her wrists if she’d been made to sleep in Mia’s childhood room.
“They’re in the wall safe.”
“Are they valuable?”
“Probably a little bit. But, we’re not talking crown jewels.”
“Should they have gone to Meg—firstborn daughter?”
The two siblings looked at each other and broke into giggles. “I can’t see Meg in pearls. Or a white gown,” Mia said. “Hiking boots and clean, camel-colored North Face hiking pants with a white shirt…maybe.”
Mia spun the dial, trying to recall the combination. Chemo brain was an actual condition, she’d been told, but she hadn’t believed it until she went to the bank one day and couldn’t remember the account number she’d had for seven years.
“Do you think Meg will ever get married?”
Mia stood on her tiptoes to look inside the safe. The old black velvet case was easy to spot amidst the stacks of papers and more impressive jewelry boxes. Dad loved to spend money on Mom. “If you’d asked me that a year ago, I’d have said, ‘No.’ Now, I’m not so sure. Ever since Edward left, she’s made a real effort to be part of the kids’ lives. The trip to DC last spring is one Hunter and Emilee will never forget. Watching Meg testify before Congress about the plight of the Yellowstone wolves was pretty cool.”
She handed him the box and held her breath as he pried open the top. His hands were strong and utilitarian compared to Ryker Bensen’s artist hands. Mom told her Louise Jenkins had gone on and on at the cake tasting about this talented young man who was recovering from some sort of traumatic experience before returning to his job as a
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