Page 89 of Big Girl Panties

"Abstract child," I corrected. "With really good Wi-Fi and an excellent selection of pastries."

Three years ago, this café had been my salvation after my divorce. A place where I could channel my post-breakup energy into something productive, instead of eating ice cream and watching romantic comedies while judging the female leads for their poor life choices. Now it felt like holding onto a favorite sweater that no longer fit quite right.

The Big Girl Panties Podcast had grown into a full-time job, and as much as I loved my café, I loved my podcast even more. Plus, it gave me the freedom and flexibility to travel with Matt.

"Plus," Kali added with a grin, "you know you can visit anytime. I'll even let you make that latte art you're so proud of."

"Hey!" I protested, finally pressing the keys into her palm. "My foam hearts are intentionally abstract. They're artistic statements about the imperfect nature of love."

"Sure they are." Kali pocketed the keys. "Speaking of love, what time should I show up at your place later? Because I still need to pack approximately seventeen different outfits for a seven-day trip, including backup outfits for my backup outfits."

Right. The trip. In exactly four days, I was marrying Matt, my best friend, my person, my partner in crime, who somehow found my neurotic tendencies endearing rather than grounds for a restraining order. We were doing the whole Vegas-then-Italy extravaganza because apparently, we couldn't just pick one romantic cliché like normal people.

"Two o'clock," I said. "The car picks us up at three, and then we're off to Sin City for my bachelorette party, which will probably involve room service, comfortable shoes, and me falling asleep before midnight because I'm secretly eighty years old."

"James is meeting us at the airport," Kali and James officially tied the knot six months ago in a ceremony that made Pinterest boards weep with envy. "Where's your almost-husband hiding?"

"Matt's in New York doing his whole serious actor thing, but he should beat us to Vegas, assuming his flight isn't delayed and the universe doesn't decide to hate us today."

I tried to push down the familiar flutter of anxiety that came with any mention of family and weddings. While Matt's parents had welcomed me as if I were their long-lost daughter who just happened to bring excellent homemade cookies, my parents had perfected the art of conditional love. Dad had said he "doesn't attend second weddings," and Mom had fallen in line like she always did, choosing loyalty to a man who cared more about appearances than his daughter's happiness.

I crouched behind the counter to grab my last box of personal items, mostly coffee-stained notebooks and a collection of quirky mugs I'd accumulated over the years. Just as I was trying to shove down the familiar ache of not being enough for the people who were supposed to love me unconditionally, Kali's voice went up about three octaves.

"Um," she said, sounding like she'd just spotted a celebrity or a very large spider. "Your mom."

I froze, still crouched behind the counter. "She's not coming, Kal. We've been through this. Dad made his position very clear, and Mom…"

"No, I mean…" Kali pointed toward the door like she was identifying a rare and potentially dangerous species. "Your mom is here. Like, physically here. In the café."

I shot up so fast that I nearly took out a display of locally made honey and organic jam. Standing in the doorway, looking like she'd rather be anywhere else but also like she wouldn't be anywhere else, was my mother.

She stood there in her perfectly pressed blouse and sensible shoes, clutching her purse like it contained the secrets to the universe. Her blonde hair was styled in a way that said "I spent forty-five minutes making it look effortless," and her makeup was flawless except for the slight smudge under her left eye that suggested she might have been crying recently.

"Hi." Her voice was barely above a whisper, as if speaking louder might break whatever spell had gotten her here. "I'm not too late, am I?"

Kali practically pole-vaulted over the counter. "I'm gonna, yeah, I need to go do... things. Important things. Elsewhere." She grabbed her purse and headed for the door like the building was about to explode. "See you at two!"

And then there were two. Me, My mother, and about seventeen different emotions I wasn't prepared to process in a public space.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, still clutching my box like it was a shield against disappointment.

Mom took a shaky breath, the kind that suggested she'd been practicing this conversation in her car for the past hour. "If there's still room for me, I'd like to come with you. I'd like to be there. I'd like to walk you down the aisle."

My heart did this annoying thing where it simultaneously soared to the ceiling and crashed to the floor. Hope and hurt tangled together in my chest like earbuds that had been in a pocket too long.

"But what about Dad?" I managed to ask.

She exhaled. "I'm leaving him."

My eyes widened.

"I don't know how yet, or where I'll live, but I'll figure it out when we get back," she continued, her voice getting stronger with each word like she was remembering how to use it again.

"Are you sure?" I squeaked, my voice doing that thing where it climbs several octaves when I'm emotionally overwhelmed.

"Do you think I'm wrong?" she asked, and for the first time in years, she sounded like she wanted to hear my answer.

I set down my box and walked around the counter, closing the distance between us. "I think that's not my question to answer. But…" I reached for her hands, which were shaking slightly. "If you choose to leave, Matt and I will help however we can."