Love You More(44)

* * *



— As I head inside, Cara pulls up in a black Mercedes. She gets out and walks toward me in a purple spandex workout set, her hair pulled into a high ponytail.

“Good morning! I was on my way to Pilates, but I wanted to check on Joan and Phoebe. How’re they doing?”

“They’re holding up, all things considered.”

She looks past me, toward the house. “Is it okay if I swing by later and pick Phoebe up? I thought it might be nice for her to spend time with my kids.”

“That’s very thoughtful,” I say. “But we already have plans.”

Cara pauses, a quick strain in her expression before her smile returns. “Of course. In that case, I might run over to Erin’s and grab a few of Phoebe’s things for the week.”

“I can do that,” I say.

She stares at me a beat, then fishes a key out of her purse. “You’ll need this. Erin’s spare key and fob.”

“Thank you.”

She turns to go, then stops. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think Phoebe should go back to the condo. It could be…triggering.”

“I’ll ask how she feels,” I say evenly.

She gives me a polite smile—warm at the edges, cold in the center.

“I actually wanted to talk to you about something else,” she says, pausing. “I think it’s time that Joan go into assisted living—if not memory care.”

“I agree.”

“Oh. Good,” she says. “Well, given that…”

I brace myself as she continues. “My husband and I have talked it over, and we’d love to have custody of Phoebe. We have plenty of space. She’d have her own bedroom and a close family environment.”

“That’s so kind of you,” I say. “But I think Erin had other arrangements in mind.”

“Oh?”

“She wanted Mick and me to have custody.”

Cara gives a single, startled laugh, her composure slipping. “You and Mick? But you’re not even together. And you don’t live here.”

“We’re sorting that out.”

Cara blinks, her lips curving into a tight smile. “Well, then. Sounds like you have everything under control.”

I reach out and touch her arm, willing myself to be gracious.

“Not at all. It’s going to take a village.”

She nods, some of the tension leaving her face. “Okay. Just let me know how I can help.”

“Will do.”

She turns and gets back into her car without another word.





Chapter 26


Back inside, Phoebe pads into the kitchen, wearing blue leggings and a knockoff Lululemon belt bag across an oversize pink sweatshirt. Her hair is wet, and she scrunches her curls with both hands, just the way Erin used to.

“There she is,” I say, hearing my dad in my own voice.

Phoebe smiles, then sits by the back door, putting on a pair of worn-out Nikes. I make a mental note that she needs new sneakers.

She gets to her feet and moves over to the table, where Joan is now going through sympathy cards.

“Bye, Gram,” she says, kissing Joan’s cheek. “We’ll be back soon!”

“Do you need anything while we’re out?” I ask.

Joan shakes her head.

Phoebe hesitates, then says, “I love you, Gram.”

“I love you, too, sweetie,” Joan says, patting Phoebe’s arm.

Her voice is calm, but her eyes have that faraway look again, like a fogged window.

“Can I borrow your car, Joan?” I ask.

“Yes, honey.”

“Do you know where the keys are?”

She stares up at me, her brow furrowed, lips parting like the answer is just out of reach.

“Don’t worry,” I say. “We’ll find them.”

Phoebe gives me a look, then whispers, “I think she keeps them in the car.”

I nod, and the two of us make our way to the garage.

Sure enough, the keys are sitting on the front seat—not the best place to keep them.

We get in and buckle up. As I turn on the ignition, the dashboard lights up: fuel tank empty.

“Well, first stop is the gas station,” I say.

“After that, can we go to Sephora?”

“Sure,” I say, remembering Erin telling me how obsessed Phoebe, and preteens generally, have become with that store. She’d laughed that kids don’t go through an ugly phase anymore.

“Yay!” Phoebe says, patting her bag. “I have a gift card from my birthday.”

“Perfect. What’s on your list?”

“Do you know Glossier?”

I nod, picturing the pink storefront in SoHo. “Is their stuff any good?”

“It’s amazing,” she says. “My favorite is the Futuredew drops.”

“Sounds like a serum?”

“Yes. It gives you a natural glow.”

I smile. “You sound like a commercial.”

“You should try them.”

“I’d love to.”

She hesitates, then says, “Mom and I shared our products.”

I nod, my fingers gripping the steering wheel. “You’ll have to teach me all your beauty secrets. Just like your mom used to.”