We all seemed to be nodding, slowly taking in the concept.

  “That’s powerful,” Sierra said.

  “It’s your superpower,” I murmured.

  “What did you say?” Tess asked.

  I paused, letting my thought form completely. “By being the one who was making the choice in the relationship, you got your strength back. Your ability to choose became your superpower.”

  “Exactly! I like that.” Tess grinned and struck a cute pose. “Look out, world. It’s Wonder Tess and her superpower!”

  Her cuteness lightened the moment. I smiled, wondering if she had any idea how adorable she was.

  “It’s really all about choosing to love, isn’t it?” Jennalyn said. “I mean, we all have that power, don’t we?”

  “I think the power is in the choice,” Christy added. “Like Emily just said.”

  “Right, because if you’re a victim, you don’t have a choice,” Sierra said. “But if you take back your ability to choose how you’re going to position yourself in a relationship, you aren’t at the other person’s mercy anymore. It is a superpower, Emily. I like that. I’m going to remember that.”

  Tess’s complexion picked up a warm glow from the filtered light entering the alcove. “Where were all of you when I was working through this a few years ago? I would have graduated a lot sooner from my therapy sessions if I had friends I could talk to like this.”

  Jennalyn reached over and placed her hand on Tess’s arm. “Didn’t I tell you? The real reason I gathered everyone is because I needed group therapy. You all have been part of my self-prescribed intervention group.”

  We laughed but then agreed that we all felt that same way.

  Sierra pulled out her phone, checking the time or perhaps checking for any SOS messages from home. I remembered that both she and Jennalyn had said when we left that they were on the clock when it came to returning home to their little ones.

  “So,” Sierra said brightly, “not that I wouldn’t love spending all morning sitting here psychoanalyzing each other, because I do love our group therapy sessions very much, but does anyone else feel the need to get a little vitamin s-e-a before we head home?”

  “I get it,” Jennalyn said. “Vitamin sea. That’s clever.”

  “Haven’t you heard that before?” Sierra asked.

  “No, but now I want to do some fun lettering with it and put it on a card or sign.” Jennalyn had pulled out her phone and was tapping herself a note. She looked up with a wide-eyed expression.

  “I didn’t tell you guys!”

  “Tell us what?”

  “I got a big order from one of the shops on Balboa Island that sells Christy’s aprons and pillows.”

  “Did she finally call you back?” Christy asked.

  “Yes. And she wanted to see some of my other work. Particularly the lettering I do on reclaimed wood. She said she has a market for small pieces like that.”

  “Yay!” Christy said. “I’ve been wondering why she never got back to you. Your work is so much better than a lot of what she carries. That’s great news, Jennalyn.”

  “It probably won’t be as lucrative as my watercoloring class was,” Jennalyn said. “But it means I can do my side hustle from home. That’s what I was hoping for.”

  We started to discuss work, careers, and the pressure we all felt to bring in more income. To my surprise, Tess talked about the second business she had along with being a personal stylist. She sold oils like the Slippers roll-on fragrance she had given us at the Favorite Things party.

  The others all knew about her oil business. I was grateful that it wasn’t something Tess had tried to pitch and sell to me at our first gathering. It assured me that Tess saw me as a friend and not a potential customer.

  She and Sierra talked about lavender oil, and that made me want to become a customer and buy some. Not that we had extra money for anything. But Sierra’s enthusiasm over how much the lavender had helped Ella Mae to fall asleep caused me to want the lavender fragrance to lull me to sleep every night.

  “I really should sign up with you,” Sierra said. “I could sell oils like crazy. Adding to the income would be a boost for us right now.”

  “Let’s get together next week,” Tess said. “I’ll give you all the information, and you can see if that’s something you would like to do.”

  Sierra turned to me. “Emily, you should sign up too. We could both have home side businesses.”

  I put up my hand before the discussion could go any further. “Trevor is the salesman in our family. Not me. I wish I was a work-from-home kind of woman, but I’m not.”

  Jennalyn checked her phone. “Not to change the subject, but does anyone else want to do a little browsing in the shops here?”

  “I do,” Tess said. “I need some inspiration for one of my clients. She’s a bit…” Tess glanced at Christy.

  “Yes,” Christy agreed. “She is.”

  They exchanged a grin. I had a feeling that even though Tess made it a practice not to reveal the identity of her high-end clients, Christy obviously knew about this particular one. That meant it probably was Christy’s aunt Marti. I wondered if Marti had been the connection between Tess and this group.

  “Let’s go!” Sierra popped up from the table. “We can save the vitamin sea beach walk for another Grace Kelly Morning. This meals-on-wheels mama has only two hours before it’s letdown time.”

  “TMI,” Tess said with a laugh.

  The next two hours were a lark. We took a fabulous, carefree jaunt through as many of the specialty shops as we could find in that part of Laguna Beach.

  Jennalyn discovered an inexpensive oil painting the size of a cell phone and bought it without hesitation. Christy took photos of various fabrics and designs in one of the home interior shops. Sierra had a sparkling comment about everything. I realized, as we were on our merry trek through the shops, that Sierra must have been a lot like Audra when she was growing up. She was highly attuned to everything around her and had no trouble catching every side conversation.

  Tess was the most fun to watch.

  “She should have her own reality show,” Jennalyn whispered to me when she caught me standing near the curtained dressing room in a boutique. The others were holding up tops and examining the necklaces hanging from a custom-made display in the shape of a cat. I was watching Tess rather than shopping.

  Tess held up a flowing, flowery kimono. “What do you think?” she asked Christy.

  “Doesn’t she already have one like that?”

  “The other one is teal. I like the rose tones in this one. She can only wear certain shades of pink, and this one works well on her.” Tess checked the tag. “It’s labeled ‘dusty rose.’ Perfect.”

  Christy burst out laughing. We all looked at her, trying to figure out what was so funny.

  “Dusty rose,” Christy said. “I painted a bookshelf years ago with a paint called dusty rose. I can’t believe the name is back in style.”

  Tess had moved on to the rack where the individual silk tops were lined up by color. In a wink she had pulled the right matching shell and was holding the shell and kimono up to the long line of pants that came in a variety of lengths and colors. “These,” she said, pulling out a flowing pair of dark gray pants.

  I would never have given the gray pants a second look. When Tess held them up to the tops, it all worked together beautifully.

  “Impressive,” I whispered to Jennalyn.

  “See what I mean? I’m telling you, she has a gift. I wish I could pick out paint colors the first time the way she does. I usually have to see the combination of colors next to one another on paper before I’m happy with the watercolors for a design that I like enough to want to duplicate it.”

  Tess bought the outfit and asked the shop attendant to hold it for her, saying she would pick it up within the hour. Her method worked nicely. When we were finished shopping, I went for the car while she and the others returned to the various shops to gather Tess’s bounty. We met at the street where I had turned for the café, and all the garment bags and shopping bags were stuffed into the empty trunk.

  Jennalyn slipped into the back again and slid behind my seat. This time Sierra insisted on taking the middle seat, saying Tess should have the front.

  “And if it wouldn’t be a problem,” Sierra said, “do you mind going back through the canyon and dropping me off in Irvine? I came with Tess, but if you guys are okay with going back through Laguna Canyon, it’s a straight shot to my place.”

  Reaching for her phone, Tess said, “I’ve got it.” She pulled up directions from where we were to Sierra’s address, and the voice that had been leading me all over Southern California ever since I arrived started telling me how to get to Sierra’s in-laws’ home.

  Tess turned on the radio as I was coming to a stop. The car faced the ocean, and the quintessential beauty of Southern California spread out before us. We gazed at the sand volleyball courts filled with tanned, athletic enthusiasts; long stretches of golden sand; the deep blue Pacific shimmering in the morning sunlight. If I weren’t driving, I would have taken a picture.

  “I love that song!” Jennalyn spoke up from the back seat. “Leave it there, Tess.”

  Tess upped the volume as the light turned green, and I made a left onto Pacific Coast Highway. The three back-seat DOEs sang along at the top of their voices. In between the laughter and the mismatched lyrics, the five of us seemed to have invented our own version of Carpool Karaoke.

  The smile on my face kept getting bigger as the hits just kept on coming from the back seat. Tess was playing the role of disc jockey, changing the station if there was the slightest protest over one of the songs. I joined in singing along on one of the tunes but didn’t even try to match the volume of their voices.

  As we cruised through Laguna Canyon, I noticed that the rains from earlier in the year had been a blessing to this area. The two-lane road was flanked on either side by hills covered in shrubs and pale green tufts that grow in arid regions. It didn’t appear lush by any means, but the hillsides didn’t look parched. Just dry. Every curve in the road revealed something new in the foliage as well as in the sparse buildings. As the back-seat singers kept their groove going, we wound our way past old stores that sold livery goods, as well as gated driveways that no doubt led to some hideaway homesteads.

  As we emerged into the familiar world of freeways and intersections, I stopped at a red light at Lake Forest Drive. The singspiration had come to a natural slowdown. Tess turned the radio off and twisted around to offer her appreciation and playful applause to our choir girls.

  “I wish I had recorded that,” Tess said.

  “We’re glad you didn’t.” Sierra had nearly lost her scarf in all the fluttering about as we were twisting and turning through the canyon. In the rearview mirror I could see her wrapping it around her neck with an extra loop, the fringe adding to the tangle.

  The car next to us had its windows down, and the infant in the back seat suddenly let out a cry, followed by a convincing wail. With the top down on our car, and after the rush in our ears of the wind and loud music for so many miles, the baby’s cry seemed especially loud.

  “Oh, oh,” Sierra cried. “No, no, no! Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Roll up the windows! Quick! Roll up the windows!”

  “Why?” Tess asked. “What good would it do? The top’s down.”

  I glanced again at Sierra in the rearview mirror. She had crossed her arms and was pressing against her chest. Memories I had long forgotten came back to me of how I had soaked more than one T-shirt during my stint as a nursing mother when another baby’s cries had done what they were doing to Sierra right now.

  The light changed, and I pressed on the gas pedal, getting a dash of a start. I didn’t realize how much power this car had.

  “Undo the tie,” Sierra squealed. “Christy, undo the tie on the back of my dress. This is new. It’s my favorite. Dry clean only. There. Help me pull it down.”

  I glanced in the mirror long enough to see Jennalyn and Christy pulling on the top half of Sierra’s embroidered dress. Sierra was untangling her scarf, and the fringe hit Christy in the face the way it had grazed me when Sierra had been in the front seat on our outbound journey.

  “Hurry!” Sierra shouted.

  I didn’t know if she was talking to me or to Christy and Jennalyn. I was aware that the people in the car next to us were watching the flurry of activity in the back seat. I tried to go a little faster so that my car wasn’t neck and neck with theirs.

  The stoplight in front of us turned red. I didn’t dare sneak through. Jennalyn took off her floppy hat and held it in front of Sierra as if that would draw less attention to the three of them in the back seat of the open convertible.

  Tess pulled off her scarf and offered it to Sierra. “What just happened? Are you okay?”

  “Hashtag, nursing mother issues,” Sierra shouted.

  Christy took off her scarf and offered it to Sierra as well. Just before the light turned green, I pulled off my chiffon scarf and handed it to Tess to pass to the back.

  “It’s working!” Sierra hollered. “Drive like the wind, Emily. Don’t get a ticket, but get me to the church on time, sister!”

  I asked Tess to turn up the volume on her phone and followed the directions through the residential neighborhood to Sierra’s in-laws’. In less than five minutes, I pulled up in front of a nicely kept single-story home.

  Tess hopped out and pulled back the seat to speed Sierra’s exit. Christy tumbled out, followed by Sierra. That’s when we all got a full view of the flustered new mom as she hurried toward the front door.

  Sierra had used the donated scarves to stuff her bra and fend off the leakage. The top of her dress remained untied and was hanging down from her waist. To cover her top, she had managed to wrap her scarf around her bodice in a very fashion-forward manner so that the fringe dangled in a gathered knot under her bustline.

  The only problem with the clever wrap was that it was so tight across her overly scarf-stuffed bra that the extra padding made her look like a lumpy cartoon character. From the back, she resembled a walking pinwheel, with the tails from all our scarves flapping in all directions in the breeze.

  “Only you, Sierra,” Christy called out, wiping the laughter tears from her eyes. “Only you.”

  Sierra turned and blew us a kiss, and we all broke into wild belly laughs as we took in her voluptuous bust and fluttering tails.

  Christy scrambled into the back seat. Tess returned to the front seat. She leaned her head back and said, “Best. Day. Ever!”

  We broke into another round of laughter. It was the sort of laughter that rolls over a group of friends who know they will have excellent teasing material for years to come.

  Chapter 23

  As wonderfully relaxing and restorative as our Grace Kelly Morning had been, I had a hard time sleeping Saturday night. I kept thinking about my mom’s impending visit, just as I had ever since her phone call. The steamed-up train of thoughts was on a different track now, though. What Tess had said about not expecting her mother to get out of a wheelchair to come hug her rolled through my mind again and again.

  I knew so little about my mom’s childhood or about her marriage to my dad. I had to wonder if something in her became damaged emotionally—to the point she simply couldn’t be the one to get up and come to me.

  She is coming to you. Remember? She’s the one who initiated this visit.

  A midnight game of mental volleyball began. I didn’t start with the question about who Karl was or why she was bringing him. This time I asked myself why I hadn’t come right out and asked my mom, Who is he? Why do you want me to meet him? Why now?

  Jennalyn’s comment about how we’re all twelve years old at heart seemed to fit the way I had handled our phone call. I reverted from an adult to a child and told myself to make sure I didn’t do anything wrong.

  What if I decide to act like an adult around my mom when she comes? I don’t cower around other women her age, like Mrs. Miller or any of the customers at the diner. I’ll always be my mother’s daughter, but why can’t I be her adult daughter?

  The concept was basic: She’s an adult. I’m an adult. Why couldn’t we start a new era in our relationship?

  I didn’t have anything to feel ashamed of or anything to apologize about. I could be the one to extend to her the kindness and affection I always had longed for her to give me.

  Opening my eyes, I rolled on my side and squinted at the dim light coming from the bathroom nightlight. Even with our bedroom door closed, the light found a way to sneak in and make the way clear. The image matched my thoughts.

  Light finds a way to slip into the darkness. Love can find a way too. I can give my mother love tomorrow instead of becoming painfully timid and waiting for her to initiate the conversation.

  As with all endeavors of the human heart that are decided in the dead of night and then sound foolish by morning light, my inspiration to be the one to shower my mom with love seemed like a bad idea the next morning. Most days it took everything I had to remain intentional about showing lots of love and kindness to Trevor and Audra.

  And I really liked them.

  “Why don’t you stay home from church,” Trevor suggested after I had changed for the third time. He and Audra were ready to go, and Trevor had agreed to help Todd at a table in the courtyard. All they were doing was passing out information about a fund-raiser for a mission trip to Kenya that Todd was taking students on that summer. But Trevor took his commitments seriously, and he had promised Todd he would be there.