The Calendar of New Beginnings by Ava Miles Read Free Book Online Page B

mother popped her head through. “April’s here, dear, and would love to see you.”
    Hadn’t she seen the woman just last night? “Be right out,” she answered with a fake smile.
    When the door closed, Lucy flopped back down and settled deeper into the covers. She sucked in calming breaths. The alarm clock was the same one she’d had in high school, and it read 8:27 a.m. She supposed she should be grateful her mom had let her sleep so late. After the party, she’d pretty much passed out at nine o’clock. She’d awoken at three in the morning, but the best way to fight jet leg was to force your body to acclimate to the new time zone. So she’d stayed in bed, thinking way too much about her conversation with Andy, her future, and being home. Somewhere along the line, she’d fallen back asleep.
    Lucy grabbed her shaggy white terrycloth robe and crawled out of bed. Shuffling her feet, she stretched as she made her way to the kitchen—her mother’s lair. Some women entertained in the parlor, but Ellen O’Brien conducted the orchestra of her life from the kitchen. Most of her childhood memories of her mother were set in this room.
    “There you are!” her mother said, hustling across the room and hugging her tight. “I was telling April you got a free pass on sleeping in today because you had a long journey here, but tomorrow, it’s back to normal.”
    Normal. That meant waking up no later than seven a.m. She needed to find her own place—stat.
    April Hale was smiling at the mother-daughter reunion over a blue pottery mug that smelled enticingly of coffee. Other delicious food smells like bacon floated through the air, making her feel a little zing of happiness.
    “Good morning, April,” she said as her mother released her.  
    “Hi, Lucy. It’s good to see you in your mother’s kitchen again.” She came over and hugged her as well.
    Even though Lucy had seen and talked to her last night, a fresh spurt of happiness filled her as memories flashed through her mind. She remembered eating oatmeal raisin cookies after school on the Hales’ Harvest Gold kitchen table as April bandaged her scraped knees or helped her with homework.
    April stepped back. “Your hair is as long and fiery as I remember it. The auburn looks so good with your green eyes. Always has.”
    Her compliment was a little surprising. After all, she almost always saw April on her visits home. Was she simply being extra sweet, or subtly suggesting Lucy needed a haircut? Her last one had been in Beirut, and hadn’t that been a trip… She’d gotten as close as she could to the Syrian border without getting into trouble. “Thank you.”
    Her mom set a cup of steaming coffee in front of her, and she stared at it carefully. Another problem with her injury was that it threw off her depth perception with the objects closest to her, making it hard for her brain to pinpoint exactly where her hand needed to move to grasp them.
    “Is that a hawk outside the window?” she asked, making them both turn their heads.
    She put her hand toward where she thought the cup was, missed, and moved it a couple inches until she had a good grip on the mug.
    “I don’t see one,” her mother said.
    “Me either,” April said, “although there are plenty of them around.”
    “This coffee is delicious,” she said, taking a sip, congratulating herself on the misdirection.
    “You and your father always did need coffee to function in the morning,” her mom said, pinching her cheek. “Although sleeping this late, you’d think you could do without the jolt. You need a haircut.”
    “I was just thinking that,” she responded pleasantly.
    “Do I even want to see your toes?” her mom asked, looking down at her feet.
    She covered one foot over the other. “Stop. You know there are no nail salons in the places I visit.” Best not mention that hepatitis C was a real risk at most of the salons she could have visited.
    “We can get our nails done today,” her mom