Page 102 of Worth the Try
Kari looks up from where she kneels in front of the carrier. “Coffee?”
It’s only then that I realize what time it is. “You’re about to go to work, aren’t you?” My shoulders sag, and the massive overnight bag slides off my shoulder and thuds to the wooden floor beside me.
She stands and takes my hand. “Iwas. But now I’m not. I just need to call Frank.”
I wince, the tears coming back in force. “Everything is all my fault,” I wail.
She pulls me into her arms, shushing me and rubbing my back. “Nothing is your fault,” she soothes.
Her kindness only makes me cry harder. “It is,” I promise her, sniffing and failing miserably at keeping the tears from falling. I can’t see a way out. That beautiful clarity I’d somehow woken up with is gone. It disappeared into ash the second Ansel told me we weren’t a team. “It definitely is.”
Kari releases me from the hug and studies me, her hands on my shoulders. “Hey. It’s going to be okay. You’re going to tell me everything that happened, and we’ll fix it. Because that’s what we do. Okay?”
I sniff. “Okay.”
She gets me settled onto her couch and presses a cup of coffee into my hands, then grabs her phone. “Let me call Frank, and I’ll be back.”
She leaves the room, her voice growing distant as she speaks. “Frank? Hey. Listen…”
She’s back a few minutes later, sinking onto the couch and tucking her feet beneath her. “Start at the beginning. What’s going on?”
A fresh wave of tears begins as the magnitude of what I’ve done starts to hit me. “I have to move. I told my mother to go to hell. Ansel’s got a custody hearing. If he loses—no. He can’t lose. But I’m never going to see her again. He’ll never let me see her. She’ll forget about me, and so will he, and it’ll be like I was never there,” I sob, unable to breathe. “Oh, God.” This is worse than the other day. So much worse.
“Let’s start with the mother from hell,” Kari suggests softly. “Did she call you?”
“No,” I hiccup. “I called her because I woke up and had all this clarity. I finally understood something vital.”
“Which was?” she prompts.
“That my mother is a horrible, selfish monster and I needed to tell her that.”
“Okay, maybe not the best timing in the world, babe, but sometimes that’s just what needs to happen.”
I give her a watery smile. “You’ve always told me I need to tell her off.”
“I have,” she agrees. “So you had that call.”
Nodding, I continue, “And then I took Ansel some coffee, and I was finally able to tell him I loved him. But the timing was bad on that, too.” My lip trembles and I bite down on it.
It takes a while, but eventually I’m able to tell Kari the full story. When I finish, she studies me for a long minute. Then she stands and holds up her phone. “This calls for day drinking. With friends. Now, go take a shower and get dressed. I’ll handle the rest.”
I let out a stuttered breath. “I don’t think so.”
She snorts. “I don’t care. This is happening. Come on. Up you go.” She waves me away, shooing me to the bathroom.
“I can’t.”
“You can.”
“Kari—”
She purses her lips. “Move it, woman. Go. Go go go. We’re fixing this.”
My heart squeezes, and more tears emerge. “It won’t help.”
She tilts her head, and when she speaks, her voice is soft again. “Well, it sure won’t hurt. So go.”
Defeated, I sigh and make my way to her shower. I take my time, washing my thick hair and using a body scrub before shrugging and using her razor on my armpits and legs. None of it helps, exactly, but the soothing routine of self-care lulls me into a sense of false calm. Like everything will be okay if I just stay numb.
