Then spring.
My Raleigh life became increasingly full.
I moved from Regional Clinical Manager into a broader leadership role.
I started mentoring newer specialists.
The job required less direct clinical travel and more strategy.
I liked it more than expected.
Coulter and I stopped pretending we were casually dating.
Harlan and Rowan seemed unimpressed by the announcement.
The family group chat remained quiet around me.
Birthdays.
School pictures.
Occasional news.
Then Sable messaged me privately.
Aunt Linnea, Mom says I can text you.
Can you help me with science?
I smiled.
What science?
She sent a photograph of a worksheet.
Simple machines.
I called her.
For forty minutes, we talked through levers, pulleys, and inclined planes.
Theda repeatedly entered the video frame wearing a towel like a cape.
At the end, Sable said:
“I miss you.”
“I miss you too.”
“Are you still mad at Mom?”
Children have extraordinary timing.
“That’s grown-up stuff.”
“But are you?”
“A little.”
She nodded seriously.
“Mom gets mad for a long time too.”
I laughed.
“She does.”
“Can you still come to my birthday?”
“When is it?”
“August.”
“That’s months away.”
“I’m planning.”
That sounded exactly like me.
“I’ll think about it.”
“Okay.”
After the call, I realized something.
Maintaining boundaries with Darcy did not require disappearing from her children.
I could have relationships with Sable and Theda that did not involve becoming Darcy’s unpaid staff.
That distinction changed everything.
I began video calling the girls once or twice a month.
Sometimes homework.
Sometimes nothing.
Theda once spent twenty minutes showing me every stuffed animal she owned.
Sable told me about soccer tryouts.
Darcy appeared occasionally in the background.
At first, we barely acknowledged each other.
Then one evening she leaned toward the phone.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
“Sable said you helped with math too.”
“Apparently I’ve expanded my services.”
Darcy smiled slightly.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
No request afterward.
Progress.
The following August, I drove to Ohio for Sable’s birthday.
My first return in more than two years.
Coulter offered to come.
I declined.
“I need to know I can leave if I want.”
He understood.
Circleville looked simultaneously unchanged and unfamiliar.
The same streets.
Same grocery stores.
Same town square.
Same route toward my parents’ house.
My stomach tightened when I saw the screen door.
Still sticking.
Of course.
I parked.
Before I reached the porch, Sable ran outside.
“Aunt Linnea!”
She hugged me.
Theda followed.
Mom stood in the doorway.
Her eyes filled immediately.
“You came.”
“For Sable.”
Mom nodded.
“I know.”
That answer mattered.
Inside, the house smelled like pizza and birthday cake.
Strawberry shortcake.
I stopped when I saw it.
Mom noticed.
“I remembered.”
I looked at her.
“Thank you.”
Darcy approached from the kitchen.
For several seconds, neither of us knew whether to hug.
Then she opened her arms slightly.
I stepped forward.
Brief.
Awkward.
Real.
“You look good.”
“So do you.”
Her boutique looked different now.
No storefront overhead.
No panic.
She ran online operations from a converted garage workspace.
It was smaller.
More efficient.
Profitable.
Later, while the girls played outside, Darcy and I stood near the kitchen counter.
“I paid off the lease settlement.”
I turned.
“All of it?”
“Last month.”
“That’s great.”
She smiled.
“Turns out clearance sales and negotiating are useful.”
“I knew you had a plan.”
“I hated you for saying that.”
“I know.”
“I thought you were saying I deserved the mess.”
“I wasn’t.”
“I know that now.”
Darcy looked toward the yard.
“When you said no, I thought you were choosing money over me.”
I waited.
“Then I had to solve it.”
She smiled humorlessly.
“And I realized you were right about one thing.”
“What?”
“I actually could.”
That mattered.
“I’m glad.”
She looked at me.
“I still think you were frustrating.”
“That seems fair.”
“And you?”
“I think showing up in Raleigh primarily to ask for thirty thousand dollars was not your best decision.”
She winced.
“Also fair.”
For once, neither of us needed to win.
Mom’s change was slower.
She still occasionally slipped into old assumptions.
“Could you help Darcy with—”
Then she would stop herself.
“Actually, never mind. She can ask you.”
That tiny correction mattered.
Dad started calling me about baseball.
Just baseball.
No favor attached.
One Sunday, he called during a Reds game.
“You watching?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I live in North Carolina, Dad. I have developed other interests.”
“That’s tragic.”