If It Makes You Happy(123)

“She’s trying her best,” I say. “Your mom is only human. But I will say that things are complicated.”

Emily grumbles, “Is this when you tell me I’ll understand when I’m older?”

I shrug. “Maybe you will. And honestly, maybe you won’t.”

There’s a lot about Tracy I don’t understand and a lot of things I don’t agree with. But I won’t poison the waters for Emily or Brittany. I wouldn’t like it if Tracy did that to me, and I definitely don’t do it to her.

I wish there were a way to explain both sides of the story. That Tracy had dreams. That, sometimes, life doesn’t always go the way you want, and it’s never ideal to abandon your previous life to pursue a new one. But sometimes, if you don’t, life isn’t a life anymore. Tracy resented Copper Run. She resented me. Even the girls. And she would have continued that for the rest of her life. Sacrifices had to be made. Tracy leaving was the best outcome for our girls. It was like mixing oil and vinegar—Tracy and Copper Run—and we needed to let them separate. It didn’t seem like it at the time, and maybe it will never make sense to Emily.

“But either way,” I continue, “you are not to talk to your mother like that again, okay?”

Emily silently nods. “Okay.”

“Good.”

“I hate it when you get all dad-like on me.”

“We can’t be best pals all the time.”

A gust of wind passes by, making us huddle closer. I keep waiting for Emily to get up, but when she doesn’t, stubbornly shivering instead, I hunker down and endure with her.

“I’m not your best friend,” she suddenly mumbles.

I bark out a laugh. “That’s mean.”

“Michelle is your best friend.”

My gut clenches. My hand probably squeezes her shoulder more than it should as I try to ground myself again.

“She’s a very good friend,” I answer, more fact than opinion.

If I were to be honest, in my opinion, Michelle is the closest friend I’ve ever had—man or woman. We’re closer than Tracy and I ever were. Trace and I were parents out of necessity. We didn’t date long enough to get to know each other on a friendship level. We were running on hormones alone. I wanted the hot cheerleader. She wanted the funny class clown. But there was only so much of that she could take.

Michelle doesn’t put up with me. She chooses to be around me. I like making her laugh, and she likes my jokes and sarcasm. She’s realistic when I don’t want to be.

“Are you and Michelle dating?” Emily asks.

“That’s kind of between us, kiddo.”

“Are you?”

I exhale and finally admit, “Yes. No. I don’t know actually.”

“She’s leaving in two days,” Emily says.

“She is.”

“Are you gonna miss her?”

“Of course,” I say, the answer choking out of me.

“I’m sorry.”

I huff a half-hearted laugh. “It is what it is.”

Emily kicks her bare foot out, breaking up a small bit of snow on her pink toes.

“Em, you’re gonna get frostbite.”

“Make her stay,” she blurts out.

I growl under my breath in frustration. I would if I could. If it was the right thing to do.

I shake my head. “I can’t do that.”

“Why not? You said you’re gonna miss her.”

“Because making people stay in Copper Run when they don’t want to isn’t a nice thing to do,” I say.

“Maybe she wants to stay,” Emily argues.

“She doesn’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I have a pretty good idea. Her dream is in Seattle, and dreams don’t go away. She deserves to have hers.”

I know this better than anyone. Dreams never go away. That whole saying about loving someone enough to let them go is true. I wish it hadn’t taken me thirty-three years to realize it.

Emily scoots away. “What if her dream is here? With you? And she needs you to tell her how you feel?”

How I feel.

I run a cold hand through my hair and shake it back out. I can’t tell her I love her. It would only make things worse.

“Tell her,” Emily whispers.

I snort and side-eye her. “Are you stealing Cupid’s job?”

Emily shrugs. “Michelle’s great is all.”

“She is pretty great, huh?”

“Yeah.”

We fall silent. The neighborhood of Copper Run has never been so quiet. The wind, me, and Emily. And maybe the low hum of excessive yard lights from Winston’s house.

A shiver rolls down Emily’s spine again. “It’s cold out here.”

“Hey, you’re the one who chose to sulk on a curb. Not me.”

She doesn’t respond with a snarky comment. Instead, she leans her head on my shoulder and exhales another puff of warm air. “I’m gonna miss Michelle.”

I lean my head on top of hers. “Me too, kiddo. Me too.”



Michelle didn’t stay after the Christmas morning disaster. I didn’t expect her to, which is good because Emily turns her nose up at her mom with a ferocity I wouldn’t wish upon anyone.