“Yes.”
“Aren’t you worried that you’ll look back on your life and have no more memories like that one? You make all this money and have all this success but you never get to enjoy it.”
“I enjoy the thrill of the success.”
“That’s a rehearsed response.”
“It may be. But it’s my answer. For that one memory, I have a ton of others where my father wasn’t there for me. I’m not putting anyone else in that position.”
She couldn’t argue with that. “Let’s just cover this and put what we’ve done so far in the fridge. I can do the rest tomorrow morning,” she said.
“Are you sure? You don’t want to do anymore prep work tonight?”
“No,” she said, feeling even more exhausted, given the way the conversation had turned. There was no sense in discussing it any further. Things weren’t going to change, no matter how much she liked him. “I’m tired. I’d like to turn in.”
* * *
Abbey opened her eyes. White light poured through the windows. She looked over at Max. He was still asleep. She’d climbed into bed with him after cleaning up her prep work in the kitchen last night with Nick. What Nick had said about children bothered her so much, even though she’d known it all along. It had made her toss and turn during the night, and now her eyes burned from lack of sleep.
She got up and walked across the room to the window. To her complete dismay, she took in the view. The storm had hit overnight. Snow was covering the grounds. She couldn’t even see where the drive was—it was nothing but a blanket of white. Her car was gone. She had parked it in the loop outside the front door, but it wasn’t there now. She was hoping to slip out with Max and take him to school, but now she was certain that school would be canceled due to the road conditions—it always was with snowstorms like this. Abbey grabbed her phone to see what time it was, and when she did, she saw Adrienne’s text: The streets are so bad that nobody can get down them. I tried to run to the store this morning, and I had to turn around and go back home. I’m going to cancel the party. I hope you haven’t bought the food yet.
Abbey squeezed her eyes shut, the sting returning. Max didn’t eat pinwheels, so she’d be eating those for the next week, and Nick had made so much sausage last night that they’d have to eat her sausage casserole for dinner every night for the next week. Not to mention, if the streets were that bad, how was she going to get home to pack her things properly when she did find her car? Abbey slipped into the bathroom to get ready for the day.
A call lit up on her screen and she answered it quietly so as not to wake Max. She shut the bathroom door. The painters couldn’t come due to the snow and their next availability was three weeks out. That wouldn’t work. She accepted their apologies—it wasn’t their fault—and tiptoed back into the bedroom to look at her decorating timeline. She shook her head. That room had to be painted. It looked awful in all white and if she didn’t paint it, none of the bedding would work. It would look dreary next to that bright white. She thought about calling more painters, but she knew she’d have trouble finding someone in this weather.
When she was finished getting ready, Max was still sleeping. She’d tried a few more painters while she was in the bathroom, and just as she suspected, they either weren’t able to fit her in or they couldn’t get out to do the job because of the snow. Abbey decided that if she wanted it done, she was going to have to do it herself. It would put her behind, but she had no other options. She’d painted before, and she could do a good job, but her hand wasn’t very steady, and she needed to line all the woodwork with tape to keep her paint lines straight. Abbey dug through her handbag for a scrap piece of paper and a pen. She wrote in her simplest words so Max could read them, I’ll be back. I’m going to find Nick. She put the paper on the nightstand next to Max, and then headed out to find Nick.
On her way downstairs, she ran into Richard.
“Good morning,” she said. “Do you know where I can find Nick?”
“He’s working.”
“Okay. In his office?”
“He’s asked not to be disturbed.”
“Well, I need my car. Do you know where it is?”
“Ah, yes. We still had your keys so Nick had us pull it into the garage in case the snowstorm hit. Good choice, since it did.”
“How do I get to the garage?”
“Ms. Fuller, I’m so sorry, but there’s no way just yet that we can get your car out. The snow is too high. We have the groundsmen working on it, though. They’ve got the plow up and running.”