A knock sounded on Spring’s front door, but Katelyn knew who it was, so her heart only raced a little bit harder—out of reflex, not true fear.
“Come in,” Katelyn hollered from upstairs. In the living room beneath her, Sawyer and Lacey echoed her, “Come in, come in,” and Monster yipped.
Moving quickly, Katelyn laced her ivory jumps—similar to stays, but tied up the front, not the back, and not as tight, which was helpful for working and breathing, to say the least—over a square-necked peasant blouse. Then she tugged on faded skinny jeans and finished the outfit with vintage drop earrings and kelly green flats.
After she’d wrapped her braided hair into a coronet on the back of her skull and pulled a few tendrils loose to frame her face, she headed down.
Aisha stood chatting with Lacey and Sawyer, little Mo propped on her hip. She eyeballed Katelyn’s outfit and whistled. “Okay, it’s official. I no longer want to be paid for childcare. I want you to sew for me. Every single thing you wear is always so weird and cool.”
Katelyn laughed. “That’s quite the compliment.” And it was. Wearing whatever her imagination conjured or her mood dictated felt fantastic. It had taken months of separation from Steve to feel comfortable doing her own thing, or to be unconventional if she chose to. Even now, two years later, she still occasionally heard his criticism in her head: You look like a slut. You dress like a kid, not a wife. Why are you always trying to attract other men? You look like a crazy person.
When she’d unpacked in her first new place, fresh from leaving him, it had appalled her to realize that all her clothes were sedate neutrals, two sizes too big. She’d vowed then that she’d return to wearing whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted.
“Sorry, pardon?” she asked, realizing Aisha was saying something again.
“Oh, nothing really. I just asked if work was going well.”
“It is, thanks. Very well, in fact. Sometimes I wish I had more time to sew for fun and maybe to sell, like you suggested, but mostly I’m just grateful they took me back.”
Aisha gave a derisive snort. “Whatever. More like they’re lucky to have you.”
Katelyn laughed. “Well, thanks.”
“How do you afford it?”
“Well, it’s not easy, but I’m managing. Jo’s giving me a real break on the rent because of my sewing, and at least paying you to watch the kids means we’re both benefitting—”
“No, not how do you afford childcare, though I do feel bad. I know paying me eats into your paycheck. I meant how do you afford to dress so well and buy all the fabric you need for all the things you make?”
Katelyn winked. “I’ll never tell.”
“Witch,” Aisha exclaimed with feigned outrage.
“Yep, the worst witch ever,” Katelyn agreed, cackling happily. It was pure delight to have a friend with a kindred passion for making something new or better from something old and discarded. “I repurpose everything. This outfit cost me about three bucks. The fabric is from a beautiful old top sheet that I picked up for a buck at a thrift store.”
“Wow.” Aisha shook her head, as if a bit awed. “Nicely done. And is free sewing time the only thing you miss now that you’re back at work?”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, I kinda thought you might be missing spending all your surplus time with Mr. Lawyer-slash-hot-body.”
Katelyn giggled, then shot a concerned look at her kids, but she needn’t have worried. For once they were oblivious to her. They were sitting under blankets they’d pillaged from their beds and draped over the couch to make a fort, sing-bellowing the ABC’s to Mo, who was shrieking with joy and trying to copy them.
“Well, I do kind of miss Brian,” Katelyn admitted. “But I don’t know. Maybe the enforced time apart is actually good.”
“I get it. Way easier, hey?”
“You said it. Speaking of which. Have you heard any more from—” Katelyn had been about to ask after Mo’s father, “the sperm donor” as Aisha called him, but her phone’s alarm dinged. It was time to get moving.
“Ah, saved by the bell,” Aisha announced. “But yeah, we’ll talk. Later.”
Katelyn climbed into the fort, kissed each of the kids good-bye, including Mo, then clambered back out and grinned at Aisha. “Bring me a sheet you like. I’ll get you into jumps in no time.”
“Awesome—and I mean it about paying for your time with babysitting.”
“Okay, okay.”
“I’m serious! Also, if, I mean, when, I open my shop, I want you to sew things to sell in it.”
“I wish.” And Katelyn did wish, but not with any sense that it could ever be a reality, more like it was a nice daydream. Right now, and for the next foreseeable years, she’d feel blessed beyond measure to just keep making ends meet.
The car took a few tries before it started, and every time the engine turned over without grumbling to life, Katelyn’s stomach flipped too. She couldn’t afford car problems right now—but then it was purring, and she was off. She couldn’t help but notice that Brian’s jeep was, as ever, long gone before she was. And on that note . . . she had done pretty well and managed not to spend all morning mooning over him, but now, with the kids in Aisha’s capable care and a long commute ahead of her, she was free to think of nothing but Brian. His smile. His kindness. The way he seemed to like spending time with her, genuinely, not merely as some means to some end. As she thought about him, a peaceful sense of happiness flowed through her, holding her anxiety about their relationship at bay—at least for a little while.
Since their not-a-date date, his suggestion that she might be someone who convinced him two people could be meant to tackle life together, could be stronger together than apart, had rattled around in her head constantly. And she had come to a conclusion. He was right. Except that he was that person for her. The one who made her wonder if she could have real love. Made her want to. Made her think the potential gain might be worth the risk.
And even though meeting some man and forming a new relationship had been the furthest thing from Katelyn’s plans, a person couldn’t control everything and shouldn’t even try. It was, perhaps, the only lesson she’d learned from her years with Steve that she appreciated. You couldn’t—and shouldn’t—control everything.
In fact, now she was not only wondering if she should take the scary leap into exploring a deeper relationship with Brian, she was starting to believe she’d have permanent regrets if she let Steve keep her from doing so.
Facing those truths made something else clear too. She was going to get a divorce. Whether or not she and Brian had a future together as anything more than friends, it was time to make it crystal clear to Steve that he and she did not. They were over and she was going to gather the courage to make that final.
With a good fifteen minutes to spare before her shift started, Katelyn sat in her car in the employee-only parking lot behind the fabric shop, called her lawyer, and started the divorce ball rolling.