“He won’t mind,” Izzy told me. “He’d forgive it totally if you’d let him.”
“That’s not going to happen,” I shared carefully. “But I need to get some things straightened out before I pick up the payment again, so when I say a few months, it might be on the broad side of that.”
“He won’t mind,” she repeated.
“And I’m gonna be asking Margot to look after Brooks a couple of days a week.”
Again, Izzy just stared at me.
And again, I didn’t know where this was coming from.
Even though I did.
Toby.
My mouth kept moving.
“I think he needs socialization and they have a wait list to get in the center now, so I don’t want to pull him out entirely because if Margot doesn’t work out, I couldn’t get him back in. But maybe two or three days a week, if she’s still up for it. I just . . .” I hesitated then since it was out there, really, I put it all out there, “need a break on the fees.”
“She’d love that,” Izzy said softly. “You know she would. She’s been hoping you’d take her up on her offer since she met Brooks.”
I knew she would. And when my baby got kidnapped, I’d wished he’d been with Margot because she would have cut an asshole for even looking at Brooklyn funny.
But after that drama died down, I’d gone back to what I’d been doing before.
Pretending I had it together and could manage everything.
“I can’t afford your mortgage,” I blurted.
Izzy’s eyes got big.
Shit.
In for a penny . . .
“Perry isn’t paying child support, but even if he was, I couldn’t afford it, Iz. It takes my entire monthly paycheck.”
“Oh my God, Addie,” she said in horror. “Why didn’t you say?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. I just . . .” more head shaking, “don’t know.”
I knew.
Because I was vain.
Because I was proud.
Because I wanted to be my mother, the best mother in the world, the mother who, no matter who kicked dirt in her face after she was down, she just got up and kept on keeping on, and somehow with her unique brand of magic (in other words, a lot of hard work and sacrifice) she made it all work out.
“I need a different job,” I told Iz. “I need to make a lot more. And to find it, I might have to go into the city.”
“Okay, then let me pay the mortgage for a few months to take the stress off and you look for something in the city.”
More shaking of my head.
“It’ll probably be serving, and to make the good money I’ll have to work the dinner shift and that means I’ll have to live there and find some arrangement for Brooks close to home.”
“Johnny and I can look after him,” she offered instantly.
“Iz, baby, lovely, my darling, beautiful sister,” I whispered, leaning so deeply toward her, I put my stomach to my thighs. “No way in hell am I gonna let you find your perfect hot guy, have him put a ring on it, and strap the two of you with my baby boy when you’re first starting out.”
“I don’t care, and Johnny won’t either.”
The crazy part of this was, neither of them would.
But I did.
“I know. I’m still not gonna ask, and you know why I won’t.” She opened her mouth, but I spoke before she could say anything. “And it doesn’t matter what you say, Iz. I just cannot let that happen.”
“The city isn’t far away, but I love having you guys close.”
I sat back. “I know you do, and I love it too, and so does Brooks. But sometimes in life you don’t get what you want, honey.”
My big sister looked down at her joyful Christmas card paraphernalia all over my—no her—cute, squat, white coffee table.
I knew why she did this.
Because we both knew that sometimes life didn’t give you what you wanted.
We knew that well.
But in the end, she’d gotten what she wanted, she worked hard and found it, not only in Johnny, but in having a degree, a good job that paid well, good friends and a beautiful life.
And even though I didn’t have the degree, but I’d worked hard, I hadn’t found it.
And she hated that for me.
“Iz,” I called.
She turned to me.
“I still have a cushion from the stuff I sold and what I’d saved when I was in Tennessee,” I shared. “It’s dwindling. But Margot helping out and Johnny being cool about me taking some time off the loan will mean I can push it out further. I’m not gonna ask you to pay the mortgage, and for a while, with those changes I won’t have to move, and I’ll be able to cover it. But I’ll need to find something in the next three or four months, and once Christmas is over, I’m gonna have to be all about that.”
“I understand.”
I knew she would.
I knew she didn’t like it. She’d bleed and fight and die for me.
But she’d done her time taking care of her baby sister. Latchkey kids so Mom could work, and without Mom having anyone to help out, Eliza had looked after me since I could remember.
I was going to ask for help, because Toby was right. For my son, and for myself, I had to.
But I wasn’t going to ask it of Izzy.
Though, that said, she was sitting in a house that was not her home doing her Christmas cards without music or TV, looking out for me.
If I let it, that could crush me.
But that was about pride, I now understood, because she wanted to do it for me, and if the roles were reversed I’d be pissed as hell she didn’t turn to me.
God, it freaking sucked that Toby was right, and more, just how right he was.
I really should tell him.
However, that wasn’t something you said in a text, and I was beat.
I needed a hot bath, and if I rallied, I needed to get down to making a few cards, and then I needed to sleep, not have the kind of phone chat with Tobe I needed to have, that being sharing I’d been a bitch, he’d been right, and then apologizing.
He’d be around tomorrow, and fortunately he was coming when no one was going to be around, so I could tell him then.
Fun.
Ugh.
“I know you don’t want to ask, but I want to make sure you know it’s always out there,” Izzy said, gaining my attention, “I’m here for you, Addie.”
“I know, honey,” I replied.
We held each other’s gazes.
I saw my beautiful big sister, but I also saw Mom.
And that was the only thing that made me able to endure losing her as we had, so fucking young—having my sister, being able to look her in the eyes and have a part of our mom staring back at me.
I wondered if she thought the same thing.
It was Iz who ended us gazing at each other.
“You probably wanna relax,” she said, turning back to her Christmas card spread. “So I’ll gather this up and let you get to it.”
What I wanted was some hang time with my sister like we used to do. Margaritas or martinis or mojitos or whatever we fancied, good food, and shooting the breeze about any topic under the sun that struck us, gabbing about it for as long as we felt necessary.
Or more, talking to her about Toby.