“What about at camp? Forget it. You’re not taking these with you. No kid is dying on my watch—not because I made cookies.”
He took the containers from her hands and dropped them into his backpack. “We’ll be fine. I’ll make sure everyone I bunk with is okay with nuts. There’s four of us in a suite, Mom. The cookies won’t last the night.”
She knew he could be trusted to be responsible. “Okay, just be careful. Maybe I’ll text your counselor.”
He winced. “Don’t set me up to be that freaky little kid who can’t be away from his mommy.”
“That’s so judgmental.”
“You know I’m telling the truth.” He zipped up his backpack, then slung it over his shoulder and grabbed his suitcase. “It’ll be fine. Have a little faith.”
“I should go with you to the airport,” she said.
“Mom, stop. I’m driving to Seattle with Grandma and Giorgio. Dad’s meeting me there and getting me to my gate. I’m fourteen years old. I’ll be fine.”
She wanted to protest that he was still her baby, only she knew he wouldn’t appreciate that. So instead of telling him he had to stay little forever, she followed him downstairs and found Rhys sitting on a stool by the island. Four and her three kids were there, as well, all eating cookies. Because in this family everyone came by to say goodbye. Mackenzie had stopped by that morning, as had Jaguar, and Avery had seen her brother before she’d gone off to work.
“Excited?” Rhys asked his nephew.
Carson grinned. “Can’t wait.”
They hugged. Four was next, whispering something in his ear. Carson chuckled but didn’t respond. He hugged and kissed his cousins before heading out front. Stephanie went with him.
Right on time her mom and Giorgio pulled in front of her house. Giorgio popped the trunk of the late-model Mercedes and helped Carson with his luggage. Stephanie hugged her youngest.
“Text me the second you get to California,” she said. “From the airport and then again when you arrive at camp. If you don’t text me, I’ll call your counselor and pretend that I’m crying and then you will be the freaky little kid who can’t be away from his mommy.”
Carson sighed. “Mom, you don’t have to do that. I’ll text you, I swear.”
“Threaten to fly down and stay with him,” her mother offered from the passenger seat in the car. “Remember when I had to do that with you?”
Stephanie did her best not to shudder at the memory. She’d been a bit chatty in high school and was constantly in trouble for talking to her friends. When the usual punishments—detention and being grounded—hadn’t worked, her mother had told her that whatever was happening at school must be so very interesting, what with Stephanie unable to stop talking about it. So Barbara would come with her to every class, unless she could learn to be quiet.
Stephanie hadn’t spoken for nearly four days.
“Text me or I’ll come stay with you,” she told her son. “Look into my eyes and see how much I mean that.”
“You’re scary sometimes,” he told her as he kissed her cheek. “Love you, Mom.”
“Love you, too.”
She waved at the car until it was out of sight, then walked back into the house to find only Four still in her kitchen.
“They took cookies and ran,” Four said cheerfully, pointing at the empty plate. “Sorry if you didn’t get any.”
Stephanie pulled a second, overflowing plate from the cupboard and placed it between them. She poured them each a cup of coffee from the pot, added cream, then settled next to her sister and picked up a chocolate chip cookie.
“You don’t have to stay with me,” she said conversationally.
“I’m just here to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re actually not fine. You’re sad and worried.” Four sipped her coffee. “I don’t know how you do it. I couldn’t let any of my kids go away for the summer.”
“Zeus is only eight. He’s too young to go away overnight. But later, if he wants to, you’ll let him.”
Four shook her head. “Never.”
Stephanie smiled. “You will because it will be the best thing for him and you’re that kind of mom.”
“Don’t try to sweet-talk me with rational thought. It doesn’t work on me.”
“Yes, it does.”
“You’re very contrary today.”
“No, just pensive. I know they’re supposed to grow up and have their own lives, but sometimes it’s hard. Still, as you’ve often reminded me, there is a season for everything.” She paused, thinking about all that had happened in the past few days. “I’m ready for a new chapter in my life.”
Four looked at her speculatively. “What does that mean?”
Even though she’d seen her mother drive away not five minutes before, Stephanie still looked over her shoulder to make sure they were alone.
“I need to get a new job.”
Four nibbled her cookie without speaking.
“What?” Stephanie demanded. “You have to say something. You always have an opinion.”
“You’ve made this announcement before,” her sister said gently. “I’m not sure you want to leave.”
Ugh—there was an assessment she didn’t want to hear. “I can’t stay. Mom treats me like I’m an idiot. She’s always double-checking my work and dismissing any ideas I have about how to make things better. I’m thirty-eight years old. It’s time for me to strike out on my own, don’t you think?”
“If it’s what you want.”
Stephanie supposed her sister’s inability to believe in her was her own fault. She was the one who had been whining about leaving Bel Après for the past five years and to date she’d done exactly nothing. Zip. Zero. Nada.
“I’m pathetic,” she said, pulling her phone from her jeans front pocket. “Or I was, but not anymore.”
She scrolled through her emails, stopping when she found the one she was looking for.
“Here.” She held out her phone to Four.
Her sister read the note. “You have an interview next week.”
“I know. Marington Cheese. It’s a small company, but they’re determined to grow, and I’d like to be a part of that.”
Four glanced back at the email. “Really? Cheese?”