“So tired I’m, like, a danger to other drivers on the road. And lost. And suffocated. Like I need to come up for air or something. I’m stuck inside the house with the baby all day. I have no time to myself. I just—I don’t know. I need to get out.” I scoff. “I want to run away.”
“So run away.”
I scoff again. “And what, leave my baby on the front stoop of a firehouse?”
“Take Maisie with you. Why don’t y’all come up to the farm? Maybe a change of scenery will help. We’ll take good care of you—you’ll have as much five-star service as you’ll let me give you. Food, wine, spa. You name it, you got it. My treat.”
“Wait,” I start, wiping at my tears with the flat of my fingers. “Wait. Are you actually inviting me to Blue Mountain Farm? For real? Dude, last time you brought me up there, it was a construction zone.”
He lets out a low chuckle. “I told you, I wanted the resort to be finished before you saw it again. We’ve finally got it to a place we’re happy with. Plus, it’s the perfect time of year to come up to Asheville. Weather is great, and everything’s in bloom.”
“Holy shit.” One of the pharmacists looks up at me from his computer. I shrink in my chair, lowering my voice. “Beau, I’m beside myself with excitement. I wish I could do it. I really do. But work…and there’s no way I can travel with a baby right now. Not alone, especially not when I’m feeling so awful.”
“Then bring your mom to help. I miss Lizzie. How’s her shoulder, by the way?”
“Better.”
“As for work, can you extend your maternity leave?”
I blink, feeling another flutter of hope inside my chest. “I mean, I guess I could. It might not be paid—”
“Don’t worry about the money.”
“Easy for you to say.”
“Bel, you’re an investment banker.”
I roll my eyes. “Banking money is a far cry from professional-athlete money.”
“Exactly. So don’t let money be the thing that holds you back. Call your boss and ask for more time. Explain your situation if you need to. Then come up to the mountain.”
I chew my lip as the idea takes shape. The bank I work for actually offers very generous leave. I just didn’t want to take it because the culture on my desk is pretty cutthroat when it comes to the importance of face time. I know there will be grumbles—some subtle, some not so much—about me taking more leave.
There’s also the risk I could lose clout and become one of the heads that roll in the next round of layoffs.
But let’s be real, there’s no way I’ll be able to go back while I’m in such bad shape. My gut is usually right about these kinds of things, and it’s telling me I’m going to fall on my face if I attempt the working-parent juggle right now.
Am I really considering this?
I’m really considering this.
But all the baby stuff we’ll need to bring. Can Mom get the time off? How will Maisie do on the drive? Asheville is only about two hours from Charlotte. But I’ve never driven more than five miles with her, and getting us ready for that is exhausting. I can’t imagine packing us up for…how long? A weekend? A week?
“Look. I know you have a fuck ton on your plate right now, but my door is always open, Bel. You’ve been takin’ care of that sweet baby, and now it’s time to let someone take care of you. If you’d let my family treat yours to some Beauregard hospitality while you get back on your feet, I’d be much obliged.”
I smile. “Shameless.”
“C’mon. I know you can’t say no when I talk like Clint Eastwood-as-a-cowboy. Oblige me. I would really, really love to see you. So would Mama and Milly and the rest of my crazy fucking family.”
“Your family’s not crazy.”
“You say that because they’re not your family.” He lets out a long breath. “I want you to really consider this, Bel. I’m worried about you.”
“I’m worried about you too,” I say. “You sound tired.”
“I’m always tired. Tell me you’ll consider it.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and swallow, then open them when the pharmacist calls my name.
“I will,” I say. “I promise. I gotta run, but—thank you, Beau. For the invite. But also for listening.”
“Don’t thank me. It’s what friends do.”
Friends.
If there’s one thing we are good at, it’s friendship. And he’s right, a change of scenery would be really, really nice.
So would some comfort food and a massage.
I could also use some of that confidence Beau seems to have in my ability to handle whatever’s thrown my way.
The logistics are hairy at best. But by the time I walk out of the pharmacy, Zoloft in hand and a box of diapers underneath my arm, I know Maisie, Mom, and I are heading up to Blue Mountain Farm.