Page 76 of Watching Henry

Florence raised an eyebrow. “You told me not to confuse feelings with emotions,” she said. “And that, one night, one time, that doesn't make a relationship.”

Eleanor smiled at her. “Oh, but it does, Florence. In fact, that's all a relationship is. A steady sequence of one night and then another, one day and then another, slowly, slowly it builds into something greater than you could ever imagine.”

Florence's heart hurt.

“I did tell you not to confuse feelings with emotions,” said Eleanor. “But equally, you shouldn't confuse emotions with lack of emotions, if you see what I mean.”

Florence sighed. “I miss her. I wish I didn't. I wish I could just go back to the same way as things were before, before I even met her. But now it seems like I just have an extra set of problems on top of the ones I already have.”

“You can't pretend that someone hasn't touched you, that someone hasn't loved you, that someone hasn't inhabited you. It shows on your face, it indelibly marks you, Florence. You can't just pretend that love doesn't exist.”

“But how do you know?” Florence protested. “I can't afford to take risks here, not for a million reasons. So how do I know if I love her, or if I'm starting to love her?”

Eleanor laughed. “You don't,” she said simply. “You just have to take your courage and jump.”

“What if I don't have any courage?” The question was plaintive and quiet.

Eleanor reached out her hand and took Florence's. “You have all the courage you'll ever need. You just have to find it. If this is what you really want, of course. Life is full of risks, Florence. And that's scary. But it would be terribly boring if there wasn't an element of chance involved.”

Florence squeezed Eleanor's hand, not at all sure that she was any better off than she'd been before. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome,” Eleanor said. “As for the financial stuff, I do suggest that you stop ignoring your debt collectors. You have to face them, you have to face the problem. The sooner you do, the sooner you'll solve things. You can set up a payment plan, come to an understanding, but no one is going to help you unless you make the first move.”

Florence shook her head. “I've been stupid, haven't I? Burying my head in the sand, thinking the world should just be the way I want it to be.”

“A little,” Eleanor smiled. “But everything's fixable if you find the right tool. And there's always a job here for you if you need a little extra cash.”

“Thank you,” Florence said. And she meant it.

Chapter Thirty Three

Hadley sat on the edge of the curb kicking her sneakers against the tarmac, backpack packed full beside her. The sun was slanting down across the street and warming her skin and she should be feeling great.

Warm sun, a new adventure, new beginnings.

But her stomach was in knots and she was slightly worried that she was going to barf all over Brent's new bus.

There was a black smudge on the toe of her sneaker and she thought about wiping it off. Florence would have a tissue in her bag. Probably one of those fancy wet ones. Mind you, Florence would also be telling her that she'd packed too much stuff, that she was sitting out on the street and it was dangerous, that she should be doing something productive while she was waiting.

Hadley sighed.

This was all so... wrong. But she didn't know how to fix it. She didn't know how to make herself happy again. Sure, she could just go and find Florence and spill her heart, but the last time she'd done that she'd been turned down. Hardly encouraging.

Besides, she had a life to get back to. An exciting, full life of discovery, finding out what she really wanted to do.

The twins would be arguing over breakfast by now. Henry would be teasing them. It was just the kind of day that they could all spend at the lake, swimming and racing and playing. A long day that would leave them suntanned and tired and ready for bed.

A satisfying day.

A loud, two tone beep came from her left and Hadley craned her neck to see a big, yellow school bus rounding the corner of her street. She stood up, grinning. The huge vehicle pulled up in front of her building, blocking traffic and attracting stares.

“Wow,” was all she could say as Brent climbed down, his long legs and arms making him look like a teenager.

“She's quite something,” he grinned and then swept her up into a bear hug.

“It's an actual school bus,” said Hadley, once she could speak again.

“An actual school bus,” Brent agreed. “Let me show you around.”