Soaring (Magdalene #2)(140)
Author: Kristen Ashley

And if that was the case, I had to make it as smooth and positive as possible.

“I’m happy for you. For the kids. For Mickey even,” I said and gave her an encouraging smile. “This is really great, Rhiannon.”

“I want to make sure, to be good for a while, just in case I…I don’t want to get their hopes up.”

That I understood.

“I get you,” I told her.

“So it isn’t much but my Ash having nice bed stuff to make her smile, it’s something.”

We were full circle and it was quite a journey to take unexpectedly in Bed Bath and Beyond.

But I was honored to be on it.

Even so, I had to note, “You’re right. It’s just…Mickey.”

I said no more but she knew Mickey so she understood me.

“I’ll call him so he knows we’re sticking to his budget and the bed stuff is from me.”

“That’s a good plan.”

“I’ll do that now,” she murmured, bending her head and digging into her purse. She got her phone out and looked to me. “I’ll just wander and do that. When she gets back, you’ll help Aisling get her stuff? Two sets of sheets. It’s no good for laundry day with just one.”

“We’ll take care of it,” I assured her.

She nodded and gave me a small smile before she wandered off, phone to her ear.

I started amassing the stuff Aisling would need, piling it on the bed display. Surprisingly, it took some time before Aisling arrived with another cart.

I looked to her. “Hey, blossom.”

“I’m sorry. I stopped because I saw these.” She lifted up a plastic tray, one of several she had in her cart. “I know it isn’t decorating so I’ll use my own money to buy them, but I thought they’d be good to organize my makeup. You know, to get it off my dresser.”

I smiled at her, wishing I could buy them for her and thinking, next time something like this happened, I’d get a budget from Mickey as to how much he’d let me splurge to spoil his girl. Even if it was twenty dollars, I’d get to have fun and I’d get to give her something.

But bottom line, it was brilliant she was interested in what we were doing and going so far as to consider adding organizing to our project.

“Great idea,” I said. “Those’ll be perfect.”

Her lips tipped up and her eyes wandered. “Where’s Mom?”

“Getting the go-ahead from your dad to spoil you with fabulous bed linens.”

Her eyes shot back to me. “Do you think he’ll mind?”

“Not even a little bit,” I told her. “But, they should be on the same page with this project, don’t you think?”

That settled her in a variety of ways. I knew it from the look in her eyes, the expression on her face and even in her body language.

She liked her mom and dad talking. She wanted them on the same page. She wanted more, to go back in time and have what they had before life tore their family apart.

But she’d take this.

“Yeah,” she agreed.

“Okay, help me load this up,” I said. “And you don’t have euros so we’ll have to go to the pillow section. Your mom walked that way. If she’s not back, we’ll meet up with her there.”

“Cool,” she mumbled.

We loaded up. We got euro pillows. Rhiannon met us in that section with the news Mickey okayed Rhiannon’s contribution. After we made our purchases and were headed to Lowe’s for paint, in the car, I texted Mickey and asked if I could have a budget.

He texted back, My heiress has gotta spoil my girl. You got fifty bucks.

Which meant I bought a fabulous lamp for her nightstand at Pier 1.

When we got home and the boys helped us cart the massive stash in, Mickey and Cillian teased Aisling about just how much it took to redo a girl’s bedroom. She gave a lot of “shut ups,” but she did this smiling.

Then Mickey gently laid down the law that if Aisling wanted him to corral his buds to help paint her room while she was at her mom’s, the place had to be picked up, packed up (so they could move things easily) and cleaned.

She’d agreed.

Through this, Rhiannon and I sat at the kitchen bar, sipping tea and chatting.

It wasn’t entirely comfortable, it wasn’t uncomfortable.

What it was, was real.

And good.

For the kids.

And for Mickey.

So it worked for me.

* * * * *

I didn’t tell Mickey about Rhiannon’s efforts at recovery. He already sensed she was no longer drinking.

But that was hers to share.

And since we exchanged numbers “just in case,” when I texted her after she left to let her know that was my decision, she’d texted back, Thank you, Amy. I promise I won’t take too long.

I didn’t know if she even knew my name was Amelia.

But I didn’t mind that Rhiannon called me Amy.

She was a part of the family.

* * * * *

“You wet?”

I was sitting beside the boxing ring with Alyssa and Josie.

The question was from Alyssa.

The answer was a breathy, “Yeah.”

To which I received, “Season delayed this year. Seemed to take an eternity.”

It was the Saturday night after my foray shopping to decorate Aisling’s room with Rhiannon.

The day had been a success.

Mickey was right. Rhiannon didn’t want me in her crew. But she did want something healthy between all the adults in her children’s lives and obviously, I was all for that too.

In fact, things as a whole were going swimmingly, no longer just for me, but also for Mickey.

The papers had been filed for Mickey’s company. I’d found a graphic designer who was designing his logo. His dad had wired him the money and Arnold Weaver had drafted the papers they were going to sign for their investment agreement. Someone had requested that Mickey put in a bid for a full roof they wanted on before the weather got too crazy. And Mickey, Bobby and Jimbo were going to start interviewing the firefighters for the salaried position next week.

Last, Mickey and I agreed, then took it to our kids and they agreed, that we would start the blending of families on Thanksgiving.

Mickey had said they had a pact to share those days and it was Rhiannon’s turn to have them to her place for Thanksgiving. But before he asked his kids, he’d told her what we wanted to do and she’d agreed to giving up the meal if she got time with them in the evening.

Something I thought was very kind.

So they would be going to Rhiannon’s after dinner to share family time. That meant he and his kids would come over, have dinner, but none of the kids would be forced to spend all day getting used to each other.