Page 57 of Love, Second Chances and Other Nonsense
“But… what would you do instead?” Her voice is hushed, as if we’re discussing a conspiracy. In a way, we are.
“I’m going back to Oregon. To Cedar City.” I say it out loud for the first time, and it feels right. “I’m going after Caitlin.”
Lauren’s eyes soften. “Adam, she made it pretty clear—”
“I know what she said.” I cut her off, not unkindly. “But I have to try. Even if she never takes me back, I can’t stay here. This place,” I gesture vaguely, encompassing the house, the town, everything, “it’s suffocating me. It always has.”
She’s quiet for a moment, then a slow smile spreads across her face. “I’d be lying if I said I haven’t dreamed about running the company since I was in high school.”
“Then let’s do it. Let’s make it happen.”
* * *
Two days later, we’re sitting across from Martin Ellis, the family lawyer who’s handled Kelley Property Management’s legal affairs since before I was born. His office smells like leather and paper, and his bushy eyebrows rise nearly to his hairline when I explain what we want.
“You understand this is highly unusual,” he says, looking between us. “Your father specifically—”
“Our father was wrong,” Lauren interrupts, her voice steady in a way I’ve rarely heard it. “Adam wants out, and I want in. We’ve agreed on terms between ourselves. We just need you to make it legal.”
Martin looks at me. “Adam, are you certain about this? Once these papers are filed—”
“I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life,” I tell him, and I mean it.
The wheels of bureaucracy turn slowly, but Martin promises to have the preliminary paperwork ready before Christmas. Lauren and I shake hands across his desk, and for the first time in months, I feel like I can breathe.
* * *
The next week passes in a blur of preparations. I give notice on my apartment, informing the landlord I’ll be out by January 5th. I sell the car I bought for Caitlin, a practical blue Honda that she’d always insisted was too nice, to a young couple expecting their first child. Watching them drive away in it twists something in my chest, another piece of her gone.
“We’ll come help you pack up the furniture,” Jake offers when I stop by their place for dinner. “Most of it can go to the donation center on Elm.”
“Thanks,” I say, pushing mashed potatoes around my plate. “I’m not taking much with me. Just my clothes and a few keepsakes. A fresh start, you know?”
Lauren and Jake exchange a glance. “Have you told Mom and Dad yet?” she asks.
I shake my head. “After the holidays. No sense in ruining Christmas.”
“They’re going to lose their minds,” Jake says.
“I know. But I can’t live my life to please them anymore.” I set down my fork. “What about you? Are you ready for the fallout when they find out you’re buying the business?”
Lauren takes a deep breath. “I think so. I’ve spent my whole life trying not to rock the boat. Maybe it’s time I made some waves.”
We agree to get through the holidays before dropping the twin bombshells: that I’m leaving Iowa for good, and that Lauren is taking over the family business. In the meantime, I avoid family gatherings, dodge my mother’s calls, and steer clear of anywhere Millie might be. It’s exhausting but necessary. Every time I picture Caitlin in that silver dress, sitting on some stranger’s lap in Oregon, I feel physically ill. I need to get to her, to at least try to win her back, before she slips away from me entirely.
But three days before Christmas, my luck runs out. I’m leaving the office late, hoping to avoid exactly this scenario, when my mother’s silver Lexus pulls into the parking spot next to mine.
“Adam.” She climbs out, bundled in a cream-colored wool coat, her mouth set in that familiar line of disapproval. “I was beginning to think you’d fallen off the face of the earth.”
“Hi, Mom.” I shift my weight, already calculating escape routes. “Sorry, I’m in a bit of a hurry—”
“You’ve been avoiding me for weeks now.” She steps closer, her eyes scanning my face as if she’s searching for clues. “None of us has seen you since we got back. You’re skipping the family dinners. You don’t return my calls. Rhonda says you haven’t been by to see Millie even once.”
“I’ve been busy.” I fumble with my keys, not meeting her gaze.
“Too busy for family? Too busy for Millie?” Her voice takes on that edge, the one that used to make me immediately fall in line. “That poor girl has been beside herself, Adam. After everything she’s been through, how could you just abandon her like this?”
I wait for the old guilt that a reminder of Millie’s hardships would usually bring, reflexive and familiar. But it doesn’t come. Instead anger, low and simmering, at the way my mother has manipulated me my whole life springs up. “Mom, I don’t care if Millie is beside herself. Her emotional state is not my problem. We aren’t together. We haven’t been for years. I don’t owe her my time.”
