Ash shrugged. She hadn’t had a drop of alcohol in her house since Mari had died, and she would likely keep it that way for a long time. “I miss Mari.”

  “Marigold Taylor.” Char laughed lightly, but her eyes misted over. “I miss her too. Fuck, I miss her.”

  Ash grimaced. She nearly forgot sometimes just how much the rest of her family went through those steps of grief as well. She hadn’t really been able to focus on them because she was so worried about her daughters and making sure they weren’t going to go down the well of despair she’d found herself in.

  “Being with Chris has brought up so much of that. I’m just not sure this is the right time.”

  “It’ll never be the right time, Ash.” Char reached over and touched Ash’s hand lightly before pulling back. “And Mari was an amazing woman. It’s impossible to replace her.”

  “I don’t want to replace her. She’s the love of my life. I can’t just go on and pretend like she never existed.” Ash’s heart raced. How could Char even think about something like that? She wanted nothing more than to be at ease with this pain, but it came back to bite her in the ass when she least expected and least wanted it. On tonight of all nights? It was more unwelcome than Katie’s interruption.

  “No one can do that. Poor choice of words on my part.” Char blew out a breath. “I’m sorry.”

  “I just don’t know what to do.”

  “Take it one step at a time.”

  Ash finished her drink, and they went into the living room. Lounging with her big sister was exactly what Ash needed that night. She had to sort through these emotions that kept running face first into her, the despair but also the hope. She needed to figure out what she wanted in order to move forward. They may have only had one date, but it broke the rose-colored glasses that Ash had put on before. She wasn’t sure she could do this because she didn’t want to fall in love.

  They were through the second episode of the true crime show they were watching when a piercing scream resounded from Avonlee’s room. Ash and Char were on their feet in an instant, racing down the hall to Avonlee’s bedroom. She screamed again.

  Ash’s heart was in her throat as she flung open the door to find Avonlee thrashing around on her bed, the covers twisted around her ankles and wrapped around her hips.

  “Wake up!” Ash nearly shouted, failing to control the adrenaline rushing through her. “Avonlee, wake up.”

  Ash shook Avonlee’s shoulder while Char tried to grab her hands and hold her still. Another scream tore through the room just before Avonlee jerked with a start, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she looked around the room wildly.

  “Baby, it’s okay. I’m right here.”

  Avonlee shook her head sharply. “I don’t want you.”

  “I know, kiddo. I know.” Ash reached forward and held her daughter tightly in her arms. She tugged Avonlee into her chest and rubbed her hands up and down Avonlee’s back in a soothing motion. She would sing like she had when Avonlee was little, but the last few times she’d offered that, she’d been told to stop.

  “Stop it.” Avonlee pushed at Ash’s arms. “I don’t want you!”

  “Avonlee,” Char said, sitting on the edge of the mattress. “You had a nightmare. We’re just trying to help.”

  Avonlee shook her head forcefully from side to side and backed into the corner of her bed. She held her knees to her chest, her entire body shaking. Ash’s heart broke. It seemed she wasn’t the only one wanting Mari back, not that she was surprised by that. Avonlee had missed her mother since before Mari had died. She just likely wasn’t to remember that.

  “I don’t want you.” Avonlee glared.

  Ash bit her tongue and held herself still. She didn’t want to lash out in anger, but what she really didn’t want was for Avonlee to see just how hurt she was. It was good to an extent, she knew, to let her daughter in on her own feelings, but right now it wouldn’t do either of them any good for it to happen.

  “Get out!” Avonlee screeched, her cheeks red and tears streaming down her face. “Get out! Get out! Get out!”

  “I’m just trying to make sure you’re okay,” Ash started, regretting her words in an instant.

  Avonlee’s face morphed from anger to utter anguish. “Okay? I’m not okay, Mom. I’ll never be okay. You killed her. You should have been the one in the car that night! She should be here. Not you!”

  Ash’s heart ripped in two. Char reached out and put a hand on her shoulder, her lips parted in surprise. Hatred was the only word that came to mind when Ash looked at her daughter. Avonlee hated her. Ash’s heart thundered, catching in her throat.

  “I didn’t kill her.”

  “You should have been the one driving! Not her. If you’d been driving, then she wouldn’t be dead!”

  “Enough!” Ash’s raised voice cut through the tense air in the room. “Enough already. She was drunk, Avonlee. I didn’t know she was drunk, and she shouldn’t have been driving that night, but she was. I can’t go back and change that.”

  Avonlee’s jaw dropped. She paled. She clasped her knees tighter, as she stared wide-eyed at her mother. “She was drunk?”

  “Mom had a drinking problem, and I tried to protect you from it, but I can’t anymore. Mom was an alcoholic, and the night that she died, we went out, and I thought she wasn’t drinking all night so I let her drive home, but she had been sneaking drinks. I didn’t know.” Ash’s heart caught in her throat. Tears flooded her eyes, flowing down her cheeks and matching Avonlee’s. “I didn’t know.”

  The silence in the room was palpable. Char sat on the edge of the mattress completely still, her gaze focused on Avonlee. They’d all done such an amazing job at keeping this secret, but Avonlee deserved to know the truth. Ash couldn’t hide it any longer.

  “Mom had a drinking problem for years. I didn’t find out how bad it was until she was in the hospital. She didn’t die from the car accident. She died withdrawing from the alcohol in the hospital after.”

  “You’re lying,” Avonlee threw the accusation.

  Char held her hand up. “She’s not, Avonlee. I promise you, she’s not.”

  Betrayal flashed through Avonlee’s eyes. Ash understood that. She’d felt the same way when she’d woken up in the hospital after the accident, when she’d learned just how drunk Mari had been. She sucked in a shuddering breath and tried to keep herself together. She didn’t want to fall apart in front of Avonlee. She didn’t want to shatter.

  “I put Mom on a pedestal, baby, and you do, too. It’s normal to do that.” Ash’s voice was raw. “But we have to stop doing that, because it’s not right. Mom wasn’t perfect. She loved every fiber of your being and every fiber of Rhubie’s, but Mom wasn’t perfect.”

  Avonlee released her knees and wiped the tears on her face. “I don’t want to believe it.”

  “Me either, baby. I don’t want to think about Mom like that, but sometimes we have to.” Ash stayed planted on the mattress, hoping that Avonlee was finally reaching her breaking point. She would give anything to have Avonlee in her arms, just so Ash could hold and cradle her.

  “So what actually happened?”

  That question broke Ash’s heart into a million little pieces. She’d always told herself that someday she would have to share the whole story, but she never wanted that day to actually happen. Sighing, Ash rubbed her temple and tried to pull herself together for the sake of her daughter. “We were driving home after going out on a date, and I don’t really remember much after that. It was rainy, and the highway was wet. The police officers said we hydroplaned. That’s when the car kind of floats on top of the water instead of sinking to drive on the pavement. It means Mom was going too fast.”

  “She always liked to drive fast,” Avonlee mumbled.

  Char smiled at her fondly, and Ash understood it. Remember the good so long as she could. That was what she had to do. “Yeah, she did, didn’t she? But that night she was going too fast, and she crashed the car. I woke up in the hospital, but Mom didn’t. They tried to save her for weeks, remember? But they couldn’t.”

  Avonlee looked so innocent, staring at Ash with hope that the story would change, that something would be different this time. As much as Ash wanted to give that to her daughter, she couldn’t. The story wouldn’t change. Mari was still dead. Ash was still left alone to parent their daughters. She was still alone.

  “I’m so sorry, baby.” Ash opened her arms, and Avonlee crawled into the circle of safety that Ash offered.

  Finally, she cradled her baby, hugging her, squishing her, kissing her. She wasn’t going to let go a second sooner than she had to. They needed each other through this.

  “Does Rhubie know?”

  “No, she’s too little to understand.” Ash dropped another kiss into Avonlee’s hair. “I don’t want you to forget her, ever.”

  “I won’t. I promise.”

  “Good.” Another kiss, and Ash closed her eyes, relaxing finally.

  It was the first time in years that she felt completely connected to Avonlee. They had struggled so much, especially these past few weeks since moving there, but this was the breakdown of those walls. Ash couldn’t give that up. And she also couldn’t deny the fact that tonight was so similar to the night Mari died. She’d been out, on a date, and her kids had needed her. She wasn’t there for them when they needed her the most.

  “I love you, Avonlee.”

  “Love you, too,” Avonlee mumbled into Ash’s shoulder.

  Ash stayed with Avonlee until she fell back asleep. Exhausted, she walked into the living room to find Char still waiting for her with the television on. As soon as she saw her, Char stood up and wrapped Ash in a hug. “You’re so fucking strong.”

  Ash whimpered.

  “I really should get going.”

  “Yeah.” Ash dragged her fingers through her hair.

  Char grabbed her jacket and her purse but not before sending Ash a concerned look, a line forming in the center of her forehead. “Don’t tell me you’re going to back off now.”

  “I don’t know,” Ash whispered. “But I do know that I need to get my priorities right, and this is where they’re at.”

  “But Ash—”

  “Drop it, Char. I love Mari, and I’m never going to stop loving her.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  The basement of the church was oppressively warm. Chris had been there so many times throughout the last two years that she knew the way down the hall like the back of her hand. But leading the way for Katie wasn’t something she ever thought she’d be doing.

  Three days ago, Katie had begged her to go to a meeting. Chris had only hesitated because this was about her daughter, and she had to be sure that she wasn’t going to make it about herself. But she’d been lost in a whirlwind that was Katie coming to her, wanting reconciliation in their relationship, and fighting against the insatiable hope that maybe this time was different.

  “Maybe,” Chris whispered to herself as she stepped into the small room.

  Chris stopped short just inside the door. Katie walked on ahead of her, sitting down in the only place that had two open seats, but Chris couldn’t look at Katie. Her eyes were glued to the cute, young brunette who sat with her arms crossed over her chest in a protective stance with an empty seat next to her. The one empty seat Katie had left for Chris.

  What the hell was Ash doing here?

  Chris wanted to throw accusations. She wanted to lob them, yell, scream, but she was eaten up by embarrassment in two seconds flat. Katie was there to share that night. She was there to talk about her experiences with Chris being an alcoholic and how that had affected her life, and she wanted Chris to shut up and listen. She wanted to do it in a safe place, where she knew she would have support, despite how unconventional it was.

  Chris’ heart hammered. She wanted to walk out, cry, and go find her own meeting. Some place she could burrow down, get what she needed and then hide away again because there was no way she knew how to face this. Face Ash.

  “Mom?” Katie called from across the room, beckoning her over with a single look.

  Chris balked. She managed to get her feet unrooted from the doorway and sliding them one after the other across the short blue and stained carpet. She held her breath as she slid into the seat next to Ash and gripped onto the arms of the forty-year-old chairs that had lost all their padding throughout the years. She couldn’t speak.

  Every word she might have had was caught in her throat, and she couldn’t even manage to shift a hello to Ash and apologize ahead of time for what was about to come out because she knew… Chris knew how bad this was going to look. She was a shit parent as a drunk. There was no doubt of that, and she fully admitted it too. And Katie was about to lay that bare in front of this entire room.

  “Hey,” Ash whispered.

  Chris nodded at her, words still caught in her throat. A cold clammy sweat broke across her back and in her pits. This was going to be it. Ash was going to see the real her, and there was no hope of any future with them.

  And she had to focus on Katie. Katie was the whole reason she was there. Connect with her daughter. Understand what her kid had been through for years. Make amends now that she knew where the damage was and just how much there was. Help Katie heal.

  But fuck, what was Ash doing there?

  Who was the drunk in Ash’s life?

  Chris closed her eyes and drew in slow deep breaths to steady her racing nerves. She missed the opening of the meeting while she worked through the new techniques her therapist had taught her that were barely working because what the hell was Ash doing there?

  Katie spoke up, her voice quivering. “Hi, I’m Katie. And my mom is an alcoholic.”

  Chris breathed out what she swore was her last breath. She couldn’t look at Ash. She couldn’t even look at Katie. She clenched her jaw tightly, tears brimming in her eyes. She’d done this all wrong. She should have told Ash before, but they’d barely even started an actual relationship before all of this had happened, and timing was never in her favor and—

  “And she’s been an alcoholic for the majority of my life.” Katie’s voice grew stronger as she continued her story. “I don’t remember a time when she was sober, until recently.”

  At that, Chris opened her eyes and turned her head. She looked directly into Ash’s bright blue eyes. Surprise. Hurt. Anger. Confusion. Chris willed herself to do something, anything, but she wasn’t there for Ash. She was there for Katie. Shaking her head slightly, Chris mouthed the only thing she could think of, I’m so sorry.

  “My mom’s been sober for almost two years now, but it hasn’t been easy. I don’t think she’d tell you it was easy, but between the two of us, it’s been really hard.”

  Chris closed her eyes again, centering herself. She had to focus on Katie. That was why she was there, after all. That was the entire purpose of being in this meeting.

  Katie.

  Looking at her daughter, her dark curly hair that was cut to her shoulders, her dark brown eyes, the strength in her shoulders and her stance even though Chris knew she was scared shitless to do this. Katie was amazing. She was the woman Chris had never been able to become, and she’d learned it all from Andry. Andry who had been the parent who was present, the one who was there when Katie hurt herself, the one who had taken the brunt of responsibilities.

  “I don’t know who my mom is.” Katie’s words stung.

  Chris knew they had to. They were the truth. In the nearly two years since she’d been sober she hadn’t had a chance to get to know Katie, and Katie hadn’t had a chance to get to know her—not that Chris fully understood who she was when she was sober. Chris dashed her tongue across her lips and glanced back at Ash—Ash who stared directly at her.

  Katie sniffled, and Chris whipped her attention back to her daughter. “Mom wasn’t there when I was growing up. I mean she was there because she always came to every activity of mine that she could, but she wasn’t there.” Katie tapped her head. “Her mind was always somewhere else. On booze.”

  A double pang of guilt ate away at Chris. Here she was again, her attention divided and not where it should be. Taking another steadying breath like she’d been taught, Chris uncurled her fingers, determined to listen to every word of Katie’s story.

  “Mom was drunk all the time when I was growing up. None of us really realized just how bad it was. I mean, I just thought it was normal. That’s who she was, honestly. A drunk. Her entire focus was about getting to her next drink, and she didn’t care if it was at home or out late at night with her friends. It tore our family apart.”

  Chris hated that she’d done that. She was the cause of the breakup between her and Andry. She’d never had any doubt of that, and staring Andry in the face, looking her in the eye, and understanding just how much damage she had done was the hardest thing ever. But doing it again with Katie topped that. Andry had been gracious, like she always was with her words and her actions. Katie wouldn’t do that. She was brutally honest, just like Chris.

  “My parents split when I was fourteen, but they weren’t really together before then. Because all my mom cared about was drinking. It got really bad that year. I thought about killing myself several times.”

  Chris’ chin jerked up at that. She wanted to wrap her arms around Katie’s shoulders and hold her tight. But she didn’t feel like she had that right anymore. While Katie still might be her only child, Chris wasn’t a parent to her—not in the capacity that she should be.

  “But I didn’t, and I’m still here. I can honestly say I’ve never had a drop of alcohol, even being in college.” Katie chuckled lightly. “I guess that’s one good lesson Mom taught me.” Her lips curled upward. “But in the last five years I haven’t really talked to my mom much. She’s been around, but I haven’t gotten to know her. It’s no fault of her own. Like I said, she’s coming up on two years sober.”

  Chris’ gaze was riveted to Katie. When had her daughter become so strong? When had Katie gotten her life together so much? A lump formed in Chris’ throat, and she struggled to see the little girl that she always saw her daughter as. Katie wasn’t that little five-year-old with pigtails anymore. She was a grown ass woman, and Chris had been the central cause of most of her trauma.