OâShea?
Her best friend lived only a few blocks from her fatherâs house. However, Katie had all but ignored Maeve in the two years since theyâd graduated from Saint Brigidâs. The last she heard, Maeve was working at the Clinique counter at the mall and still dating her high school sweetheart, Gregory, who was in dental schoolâa far cry from the mess Katie had made of her own life.
She swallows hard over a lump that rises in her throat even now. The warm suburban kitchen has fallen away and sheâs once again standing on the street in the frigid dusk, feeling hot tears beginning to slide down her cheeks, stinging where the brisk March wind hits them.
There was nobody to turn to.
Nobody.
She was entirely alone in the world.
No. Not alone.
She remembers. She remembers what she promised the baby growing in her womb.
Iâll keep you safe. Iâll never let anything happen to you. To us. Iâm going to be the best mommy in the world.
But how? And where? She needed help.
She remembers looking up at the sky, searching for answers there. She did that a lot when she was growing up, as though she expected to see her mother, the angel, looking down on her. But she never did. That night, she saw nothing but overcast twilight, heavy black clouds closing in over Lake Erie a few miles away. Katie instantly recognized what that meant. More lake-effect snow, rolling in quickly from the west.
She knew she couldnât stand out there on the street all night. She had to find someplace warm before the storm hit.
The answer came to her then, an answer so comforting, so right , that she almost dared to believe that it was actually sent from Mommy in heaven.
Wiping away her tears, Katie held her head high and turned toward the left, where the familiar steeple of Saint Brigidâs rose high above the snow-covered roof tops.
Saint Brigidâs is gone now.
So many things are gone.
So many things are different.
Katie has a family of her own. Sheâs not dependent on Drew Gallagher for anythingâand heâs not dependent on her.
Thatâs how it should stay , she tells herself firmly, dialing the voice mail access number again. She already has her hands full trying to keep up with the kids and the household. The last thing she needs is to move her elderly father in here.
This time, when she reaches the message center, the robotic voice drones, âYou have one . . . new . . . message.â
Itâs from Jen.
Surprised to hear her daughterâs voice, Kathleen listens intently, her eyes narrowing as she realizes why Jen called.
âMom, hi, itâs me. Iâm, uh, using Erinâs cell phone. She and I and Amber are staying after school to get extra help in biology. Amberâs mom will bring us home when weâre finished. Okay? Um, thatâs it. Bye.â
Bullshit.
Seething, Kathleen tosses the phone aside, certain her daughter is lying.
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âWhen is Jen coming over?â
âSheâs not coming today, âKenz, remember?â Stella tells her daughter for the tenth time in an hour. âHere, try the blue for the sky.â
âI donât want to,â comes the stubborn reply. Shooting her a defiant look, MacKenzie seizes a brown crayon and begins to scribble over the top third of her coloring book page, obliterating the one-dimensional outlines of clouds and a smiley-face sun.
Stella shrugs. âItâs your picture.â
With a groan, she pushes against the couch behind her to lift herself off the floor. Sheâs been sitting cross-legged for so long that her knees are killing her.
Iâm getting old. Old and stiff and . . . and fat.
âNo! Mommy, where are you going?â Michaela protests.
âYou said youâd color with us!â MacKenzie shouts.
âWell, neither of you will let me have a page to color, and I think you can both take it from here without my coaching.â
âBut Mommy! We need
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