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ADDISON
On my first morning in the house, I wake up feeling well rested but nervous for what the day will hold. Chase is supposed to be working, which means Emily, Willow, and I will be at the house on our own. We probably could have planned this a little better, maybe moving me in on the weekend, when Chase would be off work for a few days and able to navigate so it wouldn’t be completely awkward.
But I remember what Olivia told me about having to put my big girl panties on and making sure I do what’s right for this baby and for Willow, and that means fighting through my hesitations and fears for the day. Plus, if my first conversation with Willow was any indication, it’s going to take some time for her to get used to the idea of having me and a new sibling in the picture. The only way to make that happen is by getting to know each other better.
I reach for my phone where it sits on the edge of the bed. It’s just after eight a.m. I have a few texts from Chase, sent about an hour ago. The strangest thrill of nerves and excitement races through me, finishing the job of waking me up. I bite my lip as a smile tries to fight its way onto my face. It’s so weird feeling giddy at receiving text messages from a man again.
Chase: I wanted to say goodbye before I left for work but didn’t want to wake you. I hope you have a good day. Call me if you need anything.
Chase: I’m making dinner tonight so don’t make any plans.
I laugh. What in the hell kind of plans am I going to make in a town where I know no one? I mull over my reply message, not wanting to send the wrong idea by being flirty, even if a part of me enjoys the idea of flirting with Chase. I finally settle on friendly as the tone.
Me: Have a good day at work. Don’t worry, I’ll hold down the fort here.
I start to include a winky face and then delete it before I hit send. Not expecting an immediate reply, I check over my other notifications. There are a few emails in my inbox, but mostly company ads and junk. I delete them all and then quickly get rid of my social media notifications.
I’ve never been a big fan of the various platforms. It’s weird having a steady stream of what feels like unfettered access to other peoples’ lives. I certainly have never enjoyed the feeling of allowing them the same to mine.
A few years ago, Ethan actually hired someone to take over that area of our lives—a job I hadn’t even known existed. She very carefully and strategically created the online personas of Addison McCormick and Ethan Brown, power couple so hopelessly in love and living the perfect life.
She made sure our online friends were fitting for our social status, and she often landed Ethan—and my father—some major clients and business contacts just by posting curated content targeted specifically to attracting them. I would pose for pictures and sometimes offer a few snippets of what was going on in my world, and then she’d create these beautiful and inspiring posts that shouted to the world, “Hey, look at how beautiful my life is. You should want to be me!”
It’s safe to say social media is a joke. That my life was a joke. It’s funny how I can be in the strangest situation I’ve ever been in, not knowing what’s to come or where I’m even going, and still feel a sense of freedom that I haven’t felt in years. Without hesitation, I press my thumb to the screen and one by one, delete each app.
Feeling lighter and oddly energized, I set my phone down and get up to start my day. The moment my feet hit the wood, a wave of nausea swims in my belly. I grimace as I rub my stomach and grab my things.
When I poke my head out, the hallway is quiet, and I can see Willow’s and Emily’s bedroom doors open. I keep my steps quiet as I make my way to the bathroom, preferring to face the two of them after I’ve splashed some cold water on my face and have taken care of my morning breath.
Thirty minutes later, after I’ve squeezed myself into jeans that are starting to get a bit too tight and popped a peppermint in my mouth to ward off the nausea, I drop my things back in my bedroom before trekking downstairs. I hear Willow’s twinkling laughter floating up the stairs, and the sound makes me smile.
Both Willow and Emily are in the kitchen. Emily is at the table, scrolling on a laptop, and Willow is standing in her pajamas at the stove, which seems to be her favorite spot in the house.
“Good morning,” I greet Emily before checking out what Willow’s up to. “Wow. Pancakes again. Have I died and gone to heaven?”
“Pancakes are life,” Willow mutters. She doesn’t turn her gaze away from the stove, but I’ll take her acknowledgement as a step in the right direction. For such a young kid going through so much, she really seems to be trying her best. She and Chase spent awhile talking to each other after I moved in yesterday, and since then, she seems to be making an effort. In a way, that makes me sad. I don’t want her to feel like she has to force her feelings away for my sake.
“Morning,” Emily replies with a big smile. She looks good today. “Did you sleep well?”
“I did. It’s a nice room. Thanks again for letting me stay here.”
“No thanks needed.” She stands and waves me off. “Hey, sit. I’ll get you coffee.”
“No, it’s okay. I think I might take some juice instead. But I can get it.”
“Well, since you’re living here now, I guess you should make yourself at home.” She shuts her laptop and moves it to the countertop while I pour some juice.
I eye Willow’s towering plate of pancakes with a grin. “You’re really great at making pancakes,” I tell her.
She shrugs. “I like to cook. Pancakes are my favorite, though. They’re easy.”
“They’re my favorite too.” I sip my orange juice while I watch her turn off the stove and get plates out for the three of us.
She hands one to me, and I gladly accept her peace offering. “I made plenty,” she says.
I send her a grateful smile. “Thanks, Willow.”
“Don’t forget your medicine, Willow,” Emily says. Willow walks over to the kitchen counter and stands on a small stool. She grabs a bottle of medicine out of the cabinet and then brings it over to the table with her.
