“For some unknown reason, success usually occurs in private, while failure occurs in full view.”
TARA DANIELS
Tara introduced Mia to her aunts, and both Maddie and Chloe fawned all over her, loving her up. They’d all gone to dinner, but not before Tara had called and checked in with Mia’s parents, giving Tara some peace of mind that they were really okay with this.
With sharing their daughter.
Her daughter.
Mia had warmed up to Maddie and Chloe easily, telling them all sorts of things about herself, like how she planned on being a lawyer because she had a talent for arguing.
“You come by that honestly, honey,” had been Maddie’s response as she’d patted Tara’s hand. They’d all laughed except Mia, who hadn’t looked as amused as everyone else to hear she took after Tara.
Later, after Mia had gone home and it was just Maddie, Chloe, and Tara sharing some wine on one of the marina docks, Tara admitted her fear-that she and Mia wouldn’t connect. Maddie assured Tara that Mia had only connected with Chloe and herself so quickly because they were aunts and not a birth mother, and therefore had the benefit of not carrying any emotional baggage into the relationship.
Tara was well aware of the emotional baggage. It was currently weighing her down so that she could barely breathe. So was the bone-deep, heart-wrenching yearning for more with Mia, instead of the awkwardness, unspoken questions, and tension.
It’ll happen, Maddie promised. Tara wanted that to be true more than she’d ever wanted anything.
The next day, she tried to lose herself in routine. She made a trip to the grocery store, something that usually, oddly, gave her peace, except not this time. This time she ran into Logan, and there in the ice cream aisle he introduced her to the circle of fans around him as his ex-and future wife. Annoyed, she corrected him and pushed her cart onward, running into several acquaintances who couldn’t wait to tell her which way they’d voted on Facebook. The poll seemed to be running about 60 percent in Ford’s favor, but Logan was charming the pants off Lucky Harbor and steadily gaining ground.
It was official. Her life was out of control. She had a daughter looking for a first chance, an ex-husband looking for a second chance, and Ford looking for…
She had no idea.
Shaking her head, Tara made her way back to the inn. When she got out of the car to unload, she was surprised when Mia came out to help. “Thanks,” Tara said with a heartfelt smile.
Mia returned it, though it didn’t quite meet her eyes. It never seemed to when it came to Tara.
Something else to work on, Tara thought: getting her daughter to let go of seventeen years of resentment and trust her. “Mia,” she said softly as they came face to face at the trunk of the car. “What can I do?”
Mia didn’t pretend to misunderstand as she reached to grab bags of food. “I don’t know. I just…” She shrugged. “I thought that this would be easier, that’s all. That I’d instantly feel this bonded connection with you, that…” The girl sighed and shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“Tell me how to help,” Tara said. “I want to help. I want the same thing you do.”
Mia nodded. “I guess maybe I still have questions.”
“Then ask. Anything,” Tara said, and hoped that was true.
Mia hefted six bags in her thin arms. She was stronger than she looked. “Anything?”
“Yes.” But Tara braced herself, hoping against hope that she’d start off light. Like maybe what was Tara’s favorite color and astrological sign? They could work their way up from there.
“Was getting rid of me easy?” Mia asked.
Tara gulped. “Uh-”
“Did you think about me? Do you,” Mia paused, “regret giving me up?”
So much for the light stuff first, Tara thought as her chest tightened. It hadn’t been easy to give Mia up, and Tara had thought of her baby often. But as for regret… no. She hadn’t regretted it, not at first.
That had come later.
But before she could find a way to articulate all this without hurting her daughter, Mia’s face closed, and she took another step back. “You know what? Never mind.” Turning away, she carried the grocery bags toward the inn’s back door.
“Mia. Mia, wait.”
Mia looked back, her face pinched. “My mom warned me this might happen.”
Her other mom. Her real mom. “Warned you what might happen?”
“That you might not be thrilled to find your biggest mistake on your doorstep. That you might be upset because my adoption was supposed to be a closed, confidential case.”
Tara stared at her, stunned. “Your mom said that? That you were my mistake?”
“She didn’t have to.”
“Mia, that’s not how I feel at all. And I’m not upset. I-” Tara broke off, at a complete loss. She was just coming to terms with this all herself, and she didn’t have a game plan to make Mia understand. This was so important, so very important, and Tara needed time and careful planning to make it all come out okay-
“I changed my mind, I don’t want to know.” Mia took a step toward the inn. “These bags are really heavy. I have to go in.”
“Mia.”
But she was gone.
Weeks ago, Maddie had arranged for a “trial run” for the inn. She’d set up a raffle at the last music fest and had drawn a winner. The lucky couple’s prize-one free night at the inn.
They were due to arrive in the morning.
This left Maddie running through the place like a madwoman, checking on last-minute details and barking orders at Tara. In turn, Tara was going Post-it note crazy, leaving everyone little yellow stickies everywhere and on everything, outlining what Maddie needed done. Everyone was on hand, doing their bidding without complaint.
Okay, there was complaining, but Tara ignored it and continued writing notes. Eventually she realized that Maddie was no longer barking orders, that in fact she and Jax kept vanishing for long periods of time. “Where the hell do they keep going?” she asked Chloe, exasperated.
“The attic.” Chloe snatched the yellow Post-it pad from Tara’s fingers. “Give me those. You’re grounded.” Chloe was wearing low-riding, skinny-legged Army cargos with a red tank top and her bright red Nike trainers. She’d been a surprising help and had created a large gift basket filled with her spa treatments. But she’d clearly had enough of the bossing around because she snatched the sticky note pad.
“Why the attic?” Tara asked, fingers itching to grab the pad back.
Chloe wrote something on a Post-it and slapped it to Tara’s chest. Tara pulled it off and read it out loud. “They like to do it up there.” She stared at Chloe. “Are you shittin’ me?”
“There you go losing your g’s again, Miss Daisy. But no, I’m not ‘shitting’ you. Remember back a few months ago when you sent them to the attic to get that antique end table? They took over an hour and told you they’d taken the time to polish it?”
Tara closed her eyes. “They weren’t-”
“Yep. Totally doing it.”
Lord. Maddie and Jax were like a couple of freaking newlyweds with a case of nearly expired condoms. “I’m surrounded by children.”
“Not exactly children,” Chloe said. “More like horn-dog teenagers. Come on, admit it. You’d totally do it up there if you could.”
“No, I wouldn’t.”
“Oh, right. That’s me. I’d do it up there if I could. Should I pull out my phone and ask Mr. Magic Eight app if that’s anywhere in your near future?” Without waiting for an answer, she did just that, then smiled at the answer.
NOT LIKELY.
Chloe slid her phone away. She’d changed her hair streaks to midnight blue. They were twisted and pulled up, holding her hair in place like a headband. “So since Maddie and Jax are taking a break-and each other-and since you don’t seem to have that kind of a break in your future, I think we deserve a break of a different kind.”