It’s in the eyes . . . Always in the eyes.

—Kenzie’s Secret Thoughts

I’m the first person to admit how quickly life can change. That doesn’t mean I like change. It just means I know how precious time is. Change is still a bitch I fight constantly.

Nixon and I have kept things between us what I like to think of as low key. We’re not hiding anything, but his schedule has been full steam ahead since the start of the hockey season. Most weeks, he’s gone two, three, and sometimes four nights for away games, and another night or two for home games. Add that to the time I spend at the hospital, and most of the week, we’re like ships passing in the night. But if he’s in Kroydon Hills on that night, we’re in bed together. And I’ve never slept better.

It works for us.

Leo knows. But then Nixon’s younger brother has toned down the teasing ever since the apple incident. We haven’t gone out of our way to broadcast it with anyone else yet. Yet being the operative word.

We’re not hiding anything, no one has asked, surprisingly enough. But in all fairness, everyone has had a ton on their own plates, leaving us this perfect little space in time to figure out what the hell we’re doing without them all butting in.

It’s been incredible. But it’s also coming to an end.

Nixon has been asking me to come to a home game since the season started, but my schedule hasn’t worked out so far. Well that streak is coming to an end. I’m off Friday night, and the Revolution are playing Nixon’s younger brother Hendrix’s team that night, and he asked me if I’d come. I can’t really say no.

I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.

I’ve worked so hard to get where I am and spent so much time thinking I’d never replace anyone who understood how important my job is to me . . . But he gets it. Hell, he supports it.

You always said you didn’t need a man, and I didn’t want to need one either. But I don’t think I ever really had a chance. Not with Nixon. It’s like the universe was waiting until the perfect time to bring us together, then decided to smack us both upside the head and say, hey, stop what you’re doing and pay attention. This is important.

I just don’t know . . . I don’t know how to do it. How to open myself up to the kind of pain I could be inviting in? I wish you were here to help me through this.

I wipe the leaves off Mom’s headstone and sit back on my heels.

Sometimes I think coming here is weird. It’s not like I even open my mouth to talk to her. But in my mind, I have this entire conversation with my mom. Almost like a diary entry without the notebook.

The crunch of leaves behind me has me spinning to replace Juliette walking toward me. She’s wearing knee-high black boots and a long black coat Mom would have loved. And when I look past her, I see Becket standing next to the Mercedes Benz AMG, giving Jules her space to be with Mom.

“Fancy meeting you here,” she says with a sad smile as she lays a beautiful bouquet of daisies down on top of the headstone. “Happy birthday, Liz,” she whispers, then sits on the marble bench next to Mom’s grave. “You okay, Kenz?”

I nod, a little choked up.

“I still miss her,” I whisper through a quiet sob. “I miss her so much, Jules.”

She pats the seat next to her, and I sit down and lean my head on her shoulder.

“Me too, kiddo. Me too. It’s been almost fifteen years, and I can still hear her voice in my head, telling me what to do.”

I wipe my eyes and try to control my breathing. “I can’t hear her voice anymore, and I really wish I could. There’s so much I want to ask her.”

Jules runs her hand over my head, smoothing my hair down my back, a sob catching in her throat. “I know I’ll never be your mom, Kenzie, but I hope you know I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”

“Oh, Juliette. I know that. I promise you, I know. I’ve just been so stuck in my own head lately, and I keep remembering this one thing she used to say. I wish I could ask her about it.” My heart feels like it’s cracking in half. “I hope you know if I couldn’t have my mom, you were always the next best thing, Jules. I can’t imagine what I would have done without you in my life.”

She pulls me into a hug and holds me there.

“You are the only daughter I will ever have, Mackenzie. It doesn’t matter that I didn’t give birth to you. You’re still mine, and your mom was willing to share you with me if she had to . . .”

“Great,” I say between tears. “Now we’re both crying.”

“Yeah . . . Liz and I used to do that a lot too. You look so much like her.” She wipes her face, then reaches inside her Chanel purse. Always Chanel for Jules. She pulls out a folded piece of paper, frayed from years of opening and refolding, and runs a hand over it reverently. “I’ve kept this for nearly fifteen years. I used to read it whenever I wasn’t sure what I was doing and I needed some Liz energy.”

She hands the paper to me, then waits as I look at it, immediately recognizing the looping J of Mom’s handwriting in Juliette’s name written across the top. I slowly peel it open, careful not to rip the decades old paper.

Jules,

If you’re reading this, then I guess I did the right thing in writing it.

Son of a bitch. I really didn’t want you to ever have to see this. Sometimes I despise my need to be responsible and organized. But I think those two qualities may come in handy for you.

A few days ago, I had to go to a funeral and ended up consoling a coworker whose husband had died unexpectedly. I just kept thinking how lucky their kids were to still have their mother. That led me down a rabbit hole. If something happened to me, who would my kids have? My mom and stepdad? That can’t happen. Jesus. I couldn’t get out of that house fast enough. There’s no way I’d ever want to put my babies through that kind of loveless childhood.

I’m a little embarrassed to say, until now, I’ve never drawn up a will before. I’ve had life insurance, but that’s as much as I’ve done. I’ve fixed that. There’s a trust for the kids, and you’re the trustee. There should be more than enough for anything you could need.

Once everything was set up, I picked up the phone to call you.

I swear I did. Hell, I’m staring at it again as I write this.

But I guess I’m a chicken shit, because I stared at the damn phone for so long, I thought I was being silly and paranoid. Nothing was actually going to happen to me. This is just a precaution.

Even as I sit here writing this letter and crying into my red wine at the mere thought of not being here, I know I’m being ridiculous. I really hope the only time you see this is when we’re old and gray, sitting next to each other with sweet teas spiked with good vodka and laughing at how stupid I was . . .

But just in case I’m not, here goes.

The only person in this world I trust to love my babies anywhere near as much as I do is you, Juliette. I can only imagine if you’re reading this, something horrible and completely unexpected has happened, and if I know you, your head is spinning. But here’s the thing, Jules. I need you. Easton and Kenzie need you. You’ve always been so good at jumping into life feet first, and I’m going to need you to do that one more time for me.

Take tonight and get your shit together, Jules. Figure out whatever you need to figure out, then go get my kids. I’m guessing my mom has them.

Go. Get. Them.

Do it before she fucks them up the way she fucks everything else up.

Love them, Juliette. The rest will come.

Love them enough for me and you.

Love them enough that me not being there doesn’t destroy my beautiful babies.

Promise me you’ll never let them forget how much I love them.

And try not to screw them up too much, okay?

I love you . . . Always.

Liz

I finish reading it, then read it two more times before I look back at Juliette.

Tears are streaming down both our faces.

She wipes mine first, then takes my hand in hers. “I’ve never shared that letter with another living soul. Not even Becket has read it.”

“Really?” I ask as my chest shakes with the force it takes to hold back my sobs.

“But you and Becks don’t hide things from each other.” Even as kids, if one of them knew something, that meant they both knew. There was no hiding in our house growing up. It’s just the kind of kick-ass relationship they have.

“One day . . . Not today, but one day, I’m going to tell you how your mother managed to give me Becket Kingston after she died when she gave me you and your brother. And how, in a way, that means I have her to thank for Blaise too. Losing your mom was the worst thing that ever happened to me.” She lifts my chin to see my eyes. “I need you to understand what I’m about to say.”

I nod silently.

“Out of that pain came the best things that ever happened to me too. I hope I loved you enough for her and me, sweetheart. I hope I loved you enough that her death didn’t break you.”

She throws her arms around me and squeezes as she cries, and I end up rubbing her back. “It’s okay, Jules. You and Becks were everything I could have ever asked for. And her death didn’t destroy me, but I can’t lie and say it didn’t fuck me up. I don’t know how to stop worrying that the other shoe is going to drop. That the more I love, the more I have that I can lose.”

It’s the first time I’ve ever put a voice to my fears, and my God, it hurts.

“Oh, honey. Is this about you and Nixon?”

“You knew?” I ask, half laughing, half sobbing. “How?”

“The day Brynnie gave birth to Knight.” She smiles and takes my hand in hers. “Becket talked to Nixon.”

“Oh no . . .” My mind starts spinning. “Was it bad?”

“No, Kenz. It was good. That boy has grown into quite the impressive man, and Becket isn’t easily impressed. We’ve been trying to give you space, but now, I’m wondering if that was the wrong move.”

I lace my fingers with hers and shake my head. “No, it was the best thing you could have possibly done. I needed that. I . . . I’m struggling, Jules. I don’t know how to have it all, and I wasn’t even sure I wanted it all. But then I found Nixon. Not found him, found him. He wasn’t lost. But he’s not the guy I remember from high school . . . He’s so much more.” I look off into the woods behind the cemetery and try to gather my thoughts so I can put them into words. “He’s everything, Jules. Everything. Which means if he’s taken away, I don’t know what I’d do. I don’t think I could go through that kind of devastation twice.”

“Oh, Mackenzie. You can’t live your life in fear. That’s not living. Don’t let your mother’s death do that to you. She’d never want that for you. If you want to worry about balancing a life and a career, talk to me. Talk to your aunts. They’re some of the strongest women I’ve ever known. Hell, talk to Nixon’s mom. She lost her parents, had to raise her brother, and was nearly killed while she was pregnant with the twins. And I swear that woman is one of the few women I’ve ever met who rivals your aunt Scarlet’s strength. Balancing it all isn’t easy. But nothing worth having ever is.”

“I feel like I’ve heard that before,” I tell her softly as I try to gather my spiraling thoughts.

“Is he good to you? Because at the end of the day, that’s all that matters. If a man loves you and is good to you, and you can be happy together . . . Listen to that again. You can be happy together, because no man or woman can make you happy. It’s not their job. You have to be happy with yourself to be happy with them. Like I said, if you can be happy together, you can work out the rest. The schedules. The families. The babies. The rest falls into place if you’re willing to work for it. And you, my darling girl, have never been scared of a little hard work.”

She stands and pulls me to my feet, then wraps an arm around my shoulders and angles us toward the sun. “I’d dare say you thrive on hard work. And if ever there was a thing worth working hard for, it’s love. And if Nixon is that person for you, I want you to remember something . . .”

She trails off as I hang on every word.

“The same way your mother gave me my life—my husband and my three kids because I like to think I have shared custody with Liz. That same way, she gave you Nixon. You may never have met him if you didn’t come to Kroydon Hills.”

I close my eyes and tilt my face toward the sun and try to wrap my head around everything Juliette just said.

If you can hear this, Mom.

Thank you.

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