“Good. I’m glad you felt safe and that you didn’t have regrets the next day.”

  Our hushed conversation in the car reminded me of one of the few sleepovers I had gone to in junior high. I had only listened that night, as the other girls whispered their secrets around the circle, revealing which boy they liked with lots of giggles and flashlights turning off and on so that the lights darted around the room. That night I didn’t have anything to contribute. Tonight, with Christy, I felt as if I had things to share that were personal and yet not embarrassing.

  “You know when Sierra showed us her zing thing?” I asked.

  Christy nodded. “I wondered if that was difficult for you.”

  “No. I thought it was so sweet the way she had framed her first sonogram image of Ella Mae. I loved that she shared it with us and told all the details about the way Jordan was so mesmerized by the image.”

  “It must be the photographer in him,” Christy said. “Like Sierra said, he was always trying to use his camera lens to capture natural beauty around him, and the sonogram had captured the deep natural beauty that was hidden inside Sierra. It was so poetic the way she said it.”

  “I think that’s one of the things I like about being invited into this group,” I said. “Everyone in the Daughters of Eve is open about what really matters in life. The deeper things. We don’t sit around and talk about hair, diets, and cars.”

  “Well, I hate to disappoint you, but I’m definitely going to talk about this car the next time we get together,” Christy teased. “I think I’ll suggest a field trip. We need to all jump in your car and go cruising down to Laguna Beach.” She looked into the back seat. “How many can we fit in here?”

  “Legally?” I asked.

  “That’s probably the responsible way to go.”

  “I think we could get all five of us in.” I squinted to see if there were enough seat belts. “The skinniest ones would need to squeeze into the back.”

  “And we would need to come with our hair pulled back.”

  “We could wear scarves,” I suggested playfully. “Like the women in those vintage movies used to wear along with the big sunglasses when they drove the winding roads of Monte Carlo.”

  Christy laughed and pretended to toss the tail of a chiffon scarf around her neck. “Like an Audrey Hepburn movie.”

  “I’m picturing a different actress. What was her name? She had white-blond hair. I saw something about how she married a prince.”

  “I know who you mean,” Christy said. “What was her name?”

  We both reached for our phones and entered into a friendly race to see who could come up with the actress’s name first.

  “Grace Kelly?” Christy asked.

  “Yes, that’s the one. Grace Kelly.”

  “We’ll call it our Grace Kelly Day.” Christy continued to warm up to the idea. “Scarves and sunglasses required.”

  With a cute expression that looked like she was about to tease me, she added, “Guess what? We just talked about cars, skinny girls, and hair after all.”

  I grinned and decided not to make a comparison between the fun conversation Christy and I had just had and the kinds of conversations I used to have with my sisters-in-law. Ever since we moved, I had found myself doing far too much comparing. I needed to let the different seasons of my life stand on their own. The first decade of our marriage had been wonderful in so many ways. Trevor’s family had welcomed me in, even though I was so different from all of them, and they had included me in their lives.

  The same was true now of the Daughters of Eve. I was included. Life was very different in California, but that didn’t mean everything from the last ten years had been difficult and oppressive and now I was free. Who I was and who I was becoming were both important.

  Christy and I had slid easily into a lull in our midnight car chat. The night chill had snuck in since I hadn’t turned the motor back on, and I was feeling cold again.

  “I really should get going.” Christy reached for her purse and leaned over to give me a hug. “Thanks for the ride, and thank you for being my friend.”

  “Thank you for being my friend.”

  I felt so happy as we got out, and I locked the car.

  “See you soon.” Christy waved, and I waited in the parking lot until she drove away.

  Trevor was already in bed when I tiptoed into our little nest. He must have been sleeping lightly because he rolled over when I slipped into bed and rested his arm across my midriff.

  “Have a good time?” he murmured.

  “Yes,” I whispered. “It was really good. I love you.”

  “I love…” He drifted off, and I remained still, feeling the weight of his protective arm across me. Wisps of the multilayered conversations of the evening seemed to float in a circle above the bed.

  I was glad I hadn’t opened the ring box or shared about my cathartic experience in saying goodbye with the symbolic rosebuds. I was glad that everyone else had shared in meaningful ways, with most of the focus on Tess. I was especially glad that Christy and I had a chance to extend our conversation. The idea of a Grace Kelly Day was a good one. I started to think about how that might happen.

  As my body relaxed and the circling wisps of conversations evaporated, I thought about how much had happened in my heart and mind over the past year.

  Now all that needed to happen was for Trevor to finish the sale of the business and get established in a new job, and for us to have a steady income. We needed enough income to feel at peace about our decision to live here. That’s all.

  My thoughts had turned into a prayer. I felt like I wasn’t asking God for too much. Just direction for Trevor at this crossroads. I silently thanked God for the gift of my new friends, for how well Audra was doing, and for the ways He had led us here.

  I didn’t pray for a baby, the way I had for so many years. My spirit felt resolved.

  Everything is settled in me, God, isn’t it? I can be at peace and…

  Something didn’t feel right. It was as if I wanted a big bow to tie up the box of all my emotional experiences from the past few months. Then I could hand it over to God, making a gift to Him of all the emotional shards that had cut my soul for years and left scars. It would be a fine and noble thing to do…

  Why do I not feel settled? What is still unresolved in me?

  I was too tired for a soul-searching inventory. All I knew was that I was feeling what had become a familiar nudge.

  Release.

  I opened my eyes wide in the dark bedroom and scanned the ceiling above me as if I could read the answer to the “release” message written in invisible ink.

  Release what? What am I missing? Do You want more of me, Lord?

  Trevor shifted his position, removing his arm and rolling over onto his back. I turned on my side and let the easy pace of his breathing become the metronome that lulled me to sleep.

  The next morning we were in our usual early morning scramble when my cell phone buzzed. I saw on the screen that the call was from my mother. I hesitated before answering. My stomach had tightened when I saw her name. I felt a clench of fear, as if I had done something wrong and was going to hear about it now.

  I cleared my throat and answered, “Hello?”

  “I hope I didn’t call too early. I wanted to catch you before Audra went to school.”

  “This is fine. How are you? Is everything okay?”

  “Yes, everything is fine. I’m calling to let you know that I would like to come see you.”

  I paused.

  Trevor walked into the kitchen, buttoning up the front of his shirt. He was heading for the coffee maker, which had just finished Trevor’s daily brew with a spurt and puff. He gave me a questioning look when he saw that I was on the phone and mouthed the word, “Who?”

  “That would be great, Mom,” I answered loudly enough for Trevor to pick up on why I was standing in the middle of the kitchen with a deer-in-the-headlights look.

  Trevor stopped to watch me closely.

  I can’t say exactly how I knew, but in my knotted gut I realized that, somehow, this call was connected to the word release that had returned to my thoughts so many times.

  “When are you planning to come?” I asked.

  “Two weeks from yesterday.”

  “Okay, great.”

  “Sundays are good for you, aren’t they? You said at one point that Trevor doesn’t work on Sundays.”

  “That’s right. He’ll be home.” Trevor and I had locked eyes. I hoped I sounded upbeat.

  “We will only stay for lunch, so I hope we won’t be a bother.”

  “No, that’s fine. It’s not a bother at all.” It struck me that my mother had just said “we” so I asked, “Did you say ‘we’?”

  “Yes. It will be Karl and me.”

  “Karl?”

  “Yes. Karl. It’s time for you to meet him.”

  Chapter 20

  Once again my mother was implementing her superpower of withholding. She withheld the identity of Karl and hung up before indicating why the time for me to meet him was now.

  All day my thoughts spun through every possibility. As soon as Audra was in bed that night and Trevor and I had a chance to retreat to the patio, I plugged in the overhead twinkle lights in the hopes that they would bring some cheer.

  “Who do you think he is?” Trevor asked.

  “I don’t know. Do you think I might have a brother I never knew about?”

  “Could he be your dad?” Trevor seemed to have been spinning the options as much as I had. “Maybe he didn’t pass away when you were little.”

  The thought disturbed me more than I wanted to admit. “That would be terrible.”

  “You hear stories about things like that happening. The dad goes off to prison or abandons his family, and years later he returns to make amends.”

  “Do you really think my mother would have lied and said he was dead if he wasn’t?”

  Trevor put up his hands in defense to the tone of my voice. “Hey, I’m just trying to make sense of her game. I think it’s terrible she is doing this to you. She’s controlling all the pieces and keeping you guessing. Why?”

  I didn’t want to say what I was thinking about how manipulative my mother could be. I agreed with Trevor. Calling up and announcing that she was coming with some man in two weeks was cruel.

  “What if your mother is in a relationship?” Trevor ventured. “What if he’s her boyfriend, and she wants you to meet him?”

  “My mother doesn’t have boyfriends.”

  “The more I think about it, the angrier I am with your mom.”

  “We can’t go down that trail. You and I will be a mess by the time she arrives.”

  “I think we’re both already a mess thinking about it.” Trevor pushed back from the table and crossed his arms. “What if we told her she couldn’t come?”

  “I already told her we would be home. I said she could come.”

  “What if we have other plans?”

  “I’m not going to lie, Trevor.”

  “I’m not asking you to lie. Todd has been saying that we should go over and hang out with them sometime. What if we make plans to go to Todd and Christy’s that Sunday and tell your mom we won’t be able to have lunch with her and her mystery man.”

  “Then we’ll never know who he is.”

  Trevor shrugged and stuck out his lower lip. “I can live with that.”

  I sipped the hot tea I had brought out with me to the table and stared at the potted jasmine plant. It had made a conservative but steady effort to wind up the post at the corner of the patio. Mrs. Miller’s words from months ago came to me.

  I shook my head. “No. I only want to plant sweet things. She might be happy playing some sort of game with us, but I don’t want to play games back.”

  I thought about Jennalyn and how her mom had passed away unexpectedly. I told Trevor, and he asked, “What happened?”

  “I don’t know. Jennalyn didn’t say how her mom died.”

  “Is that why you want to be nice to your mother? Because you at least have a mom, but Jennalyn doesn’t?”

  “That could be part of it. I don’t know.”

  “You can be the gracious one. I’m just mad at her.”

  Trevor stayed mad for the next week and a half. It wasn’t only my mom and her “antics,” as he was calling them. Trevor also was mad about how things were going at work. He thought the deal he had negotiated was a sure thing and that everything was in place with his uncle.

  But, like most business arrangements with the men in the Winslow clan, it was tangled. Trevor had meetings with attorneys and some long calls with his uncle. Every night he brought home thick folders of paperwork and stayed up late. He evaluated each car that remained in inventory and adjusted the price so it would hopefully sell quickly but still leave him a profit.

  “How much is the Mercedes listed for?” I asked late one night when he was working on his iPad.

  Trevor was standing at the kitchen counter as he worked because standing helped him to stay awake. He tapped on the screen and turned it so I could see a picture of the car and its slashed price.

  “Any interest in it yet?” I asked.

  “No. Why? Are you hoping we can keep it?”

  “No. I know you need to sell it. I just wondered if I could drive it one more time.”

  The tense expression on Trevor’s face seemed to melt when he heard my request. I think it was in his blood to be pleased whenever anyone showed interest in a car, especially a luxury car.

  “I’ll bring it home tomorrow,” he said. “The insurance runs until the end of April. We should take Audra out for a drive in it. Maybe we can put down the top and drive up the coast.”

  I wasn’t sure when a leisurely drive like that might happen for Trevor because he was giving every waking hour to finalizing the sale. He seemed to have simultaneously come to the same conclusion. I watched the corners of his mouth turn down.

  “Why don’t you drive it for about another week and a half.”

  “Thanks.”

  Trevor came closer and wrapped his arms around me. “I wish I could give it to you. I really do.”

  “I know. But I don’t need a fancy car.” I circled my arms around his middle and rested my head on his chest. “I have a fancy husband and a daughter who thinks she’s very fancy.” I smiled. “I’m content.”

  “I’m not.” He kissed the top of my head and pulled away. “At least not yet. I hope I will be content, though, once I make it through all this.”

  “Let me know if I can do anything to help.”

  “There’s one thing you can do.” Trevor had returned to his stack of files on the counter.

  “Sure. What?”

  With a half grin he said, “Stop trying to distract me.” He raised an eyebrow and then gave me a wink.

  I read his message and adored him for making me feel desirable even in my late-night, ready-for-bed, disheveled state. “Okay, I’ll leave you alone.”

  Heading for bed, I called over my shoulder, “At least for now.”

  “To be continued,” he echoed.

  As promised, Trevor brought the Mercedes home, and I took advantage of driving Audra to school by putting the top down. I enjoyed exiting the grocery store and remembering what car I was looking for. I especially loved slipping into the convertible when work ended and feeling the flow of air around me with the sun shining on the top of my head.

  After driving the car for two days, I referred to her as BB, which stood for “Borrowed Bliss.” I added to the luxurious experience by using the last of my Christmas gift certificate money to buy a pair of stylish sunglasses. I loved driving around, looking like I was living the California dream.

  Christy texted me the afternoon that I had bought the sunglasses and said she saw me when I was heading down the street to our apartment. I waved, but you must not have seen me. Either that or you’re too cool now in your fancy car to wave back.

  I assured her that I hadn’t seen her.

  That’s a relief.

  She added a smiley face and then texted, Have you given any more thought to doing something with the DOEs? With you driving, of course.

  I replied that we needed to plan something soon because I only had BB for another week.

  Christy wasted no time starting a conversation with a group text. The others didn’t know what she was talking about when she said we needed to plan a Grace Kelly Day. Christy was the only one who knew about BB, and apparently Tess had never heard of Grace Kelly. Christy explained everything, and I followed her long text with the reality notice that the only day I could do it would be this Saturday.

  Within minutes, our outing was all arranged. None of us could manage to spend an entire day away from our real lives. We had no problem, though, juggling all our schedules, ending up with plans for a drive down the coast to Laguna Beach. We would spend a leisurely morning drinking coffee and munching on pastries at a place Sierra wanted us to try.

  On Friday I asked Audra to help me to wash the car after school. Mr. Miller agreed to let me pull BB into a restricted space so we could use his garden hose. He ended up pitching in and helping us dry BB with old beach towels he provided.

  Mr. Miller didn’t say much while Audra chattered and the three of us worked together. When we were finished and BB was sparkling, he stood back and said, “It’s nice the way you girls take care of each other.”

  “That’s what moms do,” Audra spouted off.