Molly’s eyes widened as a whole new suspicion took hold. “Eden, are you hinting at what I think you’re hinting at, because I’m about to freak out here.”

A slow smile took shape on Eden’s face and her hand drifted down to cradle her stomach. “I’m due in seven months.”

A great big whoop escaped Molly’s mouth and she did a celebratory leap. “That is the most fantastic news I’ve ever heard.” She hugged Eden yet again. “You’re going to be a mom. Do you understand how huge this is? There’s going to be a tiny little baby Eden for me to kiss and dress up and play with and—” Her thoughts changed direction and her demeanor followed suit to ferociously stern. “There’s no way you’re moving away now. Damon will get that UPS job and you will stay right here so I can be a proper aunt to this baby and spoil him or her rotten. There’s no other option.”

Eden smiled warmly at Molly. “I’d like nothing more. Let’s make that happen.”

The news was just what Molly needed, and she wallowed fully in the excitement. The shop was closing, but life really would go on. This was the perfect example of that. There was so much good still to come. She was convinced of it now.

And maybe, just maybe, there would be a new beginning for her too.

She felt the butterflies flutter in her stomach as she remembered her four-part plan. It was time to knock number two off her list.

It was close to six that evening when she knocked on the door of the Tuscana household. She hadn’t called first and now hoped she wasn’t interrupting dinner. Not that the Tuscanas had much time for a sit-down dinner in the middle of the week, but manners were still important.

“Well, look who’s here,” Joseph said upon opening the door. “You don’t have to wait to be let in, Molly. You know that. We’re Italian. One big happy family, you know?”

She did know, and though the Tuscanas had been nothing but warm to her, even after the tension at the birthday party, she still felt that things were a little awkward between all of them. It seemed the Tuscanas thought it best to pretend the relationship with Jordan never happened. Everyone should just erase the whole thing from their memory so that life could move forward as originally scheduled. But that wasn’t exactly something she could do. Hence, her visit.

“Is Amalia home?”

“Yeah, yeah. Come on in. You can have some chili and cornbread. I made it.” He grinned like a kid, and she couldn’t help smile back and accept the affectionate bear hug he pulled her into.

“You cooking? Impressive.”

“And rare. How’s the packing coming? Need any help?”

“Nope. I think we’ve got it all under control.”

“Molly, sweet girl! We were just talking about you earlier. How are you holding up? I know this week must be incredibly difficult for you.”

“In more ways than one. And that’s actually what I’m here about. Can we talk in the living room?”

“Sure, sure,” Joseph said and exchanged a glance with his wife. “Let me set the stove to simmer.”

Once they were seated, Molly didn’t waste any time. “I love you both very much. You’ve been there for me in good times and in bad and made me welcome in your home always.”

Amalia clutched Joseph’s hand. “We feel the same way, sweetheart. You’re family to us. You always will be.”

“But Jordan’s your family too.”

Joseph again looked to Amalia and back to Molly. “Of course she is.”

Molly sat up a little straighter as she reflected on the woman who had come to mean so much to her. It wasn’t hard to find the words. In fact, they flowed through her with ease. “She’s caring, and smart. She has the wittiest sense of humor and conducts herself with class and integrity. She’d go out of her way to help a stranger and nearly always puts the needs of other people before herself. And I’m one hundred percent completely in love with her.”

Amalia’s eyes widened at the words, and Molly held up a hand to signal she had more to say. “It might be difficult for you to accept those feelings at first, and that makes complete sense to me because it’s taken me a while too. But I can’t let that get in my way. This isn’t about you. It’s about Jordan and me. Over time, I hope you’ll see the good in this. But more importantly, I hope you learn to see the good in Jordan herself. She’s so much more than you give her credit for. I’m not looking to replace Cassie. I couldn’t if I tried. But Jordan is every bit as worthy. It’s my hope that you finally see that.”

Amalia took a minute, seemingly struck. “You mean that? What you said before?” She looked genuinely touched at the notion.

“About loving her? I do. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. I love your daughter and I want to spend my life making her happy.”

“Now what?” Joseph asked.

She eyed him with a calm confidence. “I go and get her back.”

Chapter Twenty-eight

Life is kind of like a Ferris wheel. That’s the conclusion Molly came to from the bench just a few feet away from the terrifying contraption. In fact, she’d been studying the thing for over an hour, trying to work up enough courage to buy a ticket. As she watched each car make the climb to the tip-top only to descend to the ground from which it came, she came to an understanding.

In life, like a Ferris wheel, you start your journey just as others are completing theirs. There was something very poetic about that and the parallel eased her fears, if only a tad. And this week had been about tackling old fears.

Part three of her plan involved facing what she found most terrifying in life. She’d made a habit of backing down from all that scared her, and it was time she put an end to that tendency. Riding this Ferris wheel wasn’t necessarily something she wanted to do, but something she had to do.

So she’d made some calls and tracked down the closest Ferris wheel she could find and made the two-hour drive after closing time. From where she was now, it was only another hour to Chicago, her next stop. And if she could just convince herself to get on the stupid ride, she might get there before the cows came home.

It was a process.

“Last call for the big wheel,” the ride operator called out. “Last call!” The amusement park closed at seven on weekdays. She’d known that going in. She’d just been dragging her feet, the fear crippling her.

Her stomach flip-flopped and her mind raced, but she forced herself to her feet. If she wanted to live life without regrets, she had to learn to be courageous. To go after what she wanted. This was training ground in front of her and she was ready. She wouldn’t be held back by fear any longer.

“One ticket, please,” she told the operator with confidence. She counted out the dollar bills and exchanged them for a blue ticket stub that she gripped harder than was necessary as she settled herself into the swinging car.

That’s when it hit.

What the hell was she thinking? She couldn’t do this. It had been a nice thought. Really. A brave overture on her part, and who didn’t want to be brave? But yeah, no, this wasn’t going to happen. The panic attack was in full force, and she struggled to catch her breath. The air around her felt unusually warm and she tugged at the collar of her shirt. She had to get off this thing. Now. She opened her mouth to signal the ride attendant, but her voice simply wasn’t there. She gripped the bar in front of her in terror as her car rose higher and higher a little bit at a time as each new passenger boarded the ride.

This was bad. This was really bad.

She forced herself to breathe. Seven seconds in. Five seconds out. It wasn’t long before her car eased to the top of the wheel and paused there. As a coping mechanism, instead of focusing on how far she was from the ground, she raised her face skyward and watched the stars.

And whoa. There it was, right in front of her. Clear as day.

Her eyes trained on a grouping of stars that, if she wasn’t crazy, seemed to be concentrated in the shape of the number eight. She laughed out loud, tears and all. It was a sign if she had ever seen one. It meant she was doing exactly what she was supposed to be doing in this moment. She nodded her head and accepted the challenge in front of her just as the wheel began to circle.

On the first go-round, she clung to the bar for dear life, barely sneaking a look at the world as it passed. She would just wait this thing out and get out of there.

But on the second go-round, her hands loosened their grip and her breathing returned to semi-normal. That was something. The ride moved a bit too fast for her liking and it made her stomach drop in that way she couldn’t stand, but she was managing. Score one for her.

Then something miraculous happened. As the wheel continued to circle, she began to enjoy the sensation. The wind in her hair was refreshing and the panic shifted into some sort of welcome exhilaration. She let go of the bar and sat back in her seat, taking in the panoramic view, the ever-changing neon lights of the park, and the night all around her. Music played from the speaker in her car and her spirits soared in victory.

It was over faster than she thought it would be. Before she knew it, the attendant was pulling back the bar and releasing her from the ride. She threw her arms around his neck and squeezed. Surprised, he patted her back awkwardly. But she didn’t let go.

“You must have enjoyed yourself, huh?” he asked nervously. He probably thought she was a crazy person and maybe she was.

“It was the best ever. Very helpful. Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

“Do you mind if I ask your name? You’re kind of part of this whole memory now.”

He pointed to the letters sewn onto his shirt. “Leonard, ma’am.”

“Leonard. Len. That’s a great name. I have to go now, Leonard.” She squeezed his hand.

“Okay. Have a nice night.”

“That’s the plan,” she called over her shoulder.

*

“Hey, Mom. It’s me.” Jordan adjusted her rearview mirror to soften the obnoxious headlights from the car behind her. God, she hated driving at night and much preferred mass transportation.

“Hi, sweetheart. How are you?”

“I’m on the road. Headed into Applewood, actually. A friend of mine is moving to town this weekend and I offered to help.”

“A friend of yours is moving to Applewood?”

“Yeah, you remember George. Long story. But listen, it’s kind of last minute, but I wanted to see if you and Dad were free for dinner. I know you all tend to eat kind of late, so I thought I’d risk it.” It was a bold move to call and arrange to spend time with them, but she wanted to try to work on their relationship. They were good people. And they were hers. Why wouldn’t she try to fix things?

Her mother’s voice lit up at the invitation. “Jordan, we would love that. Your father’s still at the office with a patient, but he shouldn’t be that much longer. I’ll give him a call. What time will you be here?”

She checked the clock. “Maybe eightish?”

“I’ll have some sort of dinner waiting, even if I have to order in. We can stay in and you can tell us all about the progress you’ve made with Journey. I know you must be working hard.”

She smiled. It seemed she wasn’t the only one ready to work on things. She was really looking forward to it. “I’ll call Mikey and see if he wants to stop by later.” Maybe this could be a regular thing, family get-togethers. She could make a point of visiting more often. It was a step in the right direction at least.

Then her mind drifted to where it always seemed to. She wondered if she’d see Molly over the course of the weekend. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t want to. The next day was Flour Child’s last. Molly would be a wreck. She wanted to find a way to be there for her, but it just wasn’t the best idea. It would be too difficult to be close to her and yet so far away at the same time.

Maybe Molly was right and over time it was something they could work up to. It was wishful thinking at its best.

*

Molly checked her GPS. She was only twenty-two miles outside of Chicago and just thirty minutes from Jordan’s apartment. When she’d explained her plans to the Tuscanas, they’d been helpful enough to provide her with the address. She could only hope now that Jordan would be home. It didn’t matter though. She could wait if she had to. She’d waited this long.

So she sang to Janis Joplin and drove with the windows down, praying to God she’d be heard when she arrived. The buzzing from her back pocket snagged her attention. She checked the readout on her phone, and in strange news found it was coming from the clinic. “Hello?”

“Abort. Abort the mission.”