But he didn’t leave.
He gave me just that perfect touch more goodness.
“But I’m not your touchstone for when times get tough…yet…and now I gotta let you be so you can get to that person or…” he glanced around the room again before he concluded, “…find where you need to be.”
He finally shut up.
I did not start speaking.
Yet.
“Are you good for me to leave?” he asked.
I didn’t move a muscle.
I just kept hearing him say, Yet, in my head.
He gave me a squeeze. “About your folks, your brother. That upset you, sweetheart. I sense you need space, but I can’t go unless I know you’re good for me to leave.”
I started to shake my head (because I was not good for him to leave for more than one reason).
But I forced myself to nod.
He bent and pressed his lips to my forehead.
Oh God.
He then let me go, murmuring, “First meeting at the school about the Thanksgiving gig is Wednesday night. If you go, maybe we can catch a bite after.”
I didn’t say a word.
Yet.
He stopped at the door and turned back to me.
And he delivered his final silken blow.
“She’s ready for you to find some happy for yourself, Pepper. Even if it isn’t me, you’re not doing her any favors by showing her that you don’t think you’re important enough to have that for yourself.”
And with that, he opened the door, and he was almost through it before I called, “Auggie!”
He again turned back.
“Thank you.”
Lame.
But in that moment, it was all I had.
And of course his reply was a smooth, tender, “Anytime, baby.”
With that and a lift of his chin, he disappeared down the hall.
I stared after him.
I’m not your touchstone for when times get tough…
Yet.
So…
My mom was super sick.
Since I’d learned that, I had not been invited to spend any time with her and now I was wondering if that was because I had three stepmoms I didn’t know about.
My sister was getting married to a man who was older than our father, and she was sixth in that line.
My brother had spent his years of liberation from all that crazy messing up his life as well as what sounded like a bunch of other people’s lives.
And it did indeed seem like my daughter was trying to pull another fast one, throwing me in the way of Auggie at every opportunity, including inventing some. That not only bore more discussion with her, but contemplation about why she’d do it.
All this was going on and all I could think of was Yet.
I had never…in my life…had a touchstone.
I had never…in my life…had someone shelter me from any storm (at least not someone who was unbeknownst to me off creating his own storm I had to endure).
Now, I had to think about this.
I had to stop jacking Auggie around (even though I didn’t mean to jack him around) and really think about it.
For me.
For Juno.
And definitely…
For Auggie.
Chapter Seven
A Mountain
Pepper
Obviously, when shit got uber real in pretty much every aspect of your life, you had only one choice with how to deal with it.
You called in your girls.
Since part of what I needed to talk about was my daughter. And my daughter loved my girls, and vice versa, thus keeping them apart when there was a possibility to be together was impossible, the frantic group text message I sent after Auggie left included me begging them to show at my house for coffee and my famous cinnamon rolls the next morning after Juno went to school.
It would be nice to be able to be that TV mom who was best friends and shared everything with her kids without said kids having any emotional trauma from the fact their mom treated them like a bud instead of doing their best to give them direction as a parent.
But a friend was a friend.
And a mom was a mom.
So I had to find a time to work it all out with my posse when Juno wasn’t around.
This I did.
Since Lottie, Ryn and Hattie also had the day off (or I should say, the night), they were in.
But even Evie said she’d sort it with her boss to show up.
Which told me how much they already knew. Because let us remember, Aug worked with all their men. He didn’t strike me as a chatterbox, but if you worked closely with people who were also your friends, you talked.
Like I was about to do.
(That said, it might be about the cinnamon rolls, because they were only famous in my crew, but they were seriously famous in my crew.)
Promptly at 9:30, they began arriving. Evie first. Then Lottie and Hattie on each other’s heels. And finally, Ryn.
After allowing time for hugs, hellos and coffee mug filling, I hustled their asses to my family room and shut them up by serving the cinnamon rolls still warm from the oven with the cream cheese frosting melting on top.