Back to life as she knew it.

FIFTEEN

The Risk

Monday afternoon, Paxton worked through lunch in order to give herself the rest of the afternoon off. Paperwork requiring her signature was piling up at the outreach center, and there were a million little details to attend to before the gala on Friday night, but there were some things that were just more important.

She drove into the lot of Harris & Associates Realty, which was located next to the organic market, and parked her car. When she walked in, she saw Kirsty Lemon on the phone at her desk. As soon as she hung up, Paxton walked over to her.

“Paxton,” Kirsty said, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“I noticed that the townhouse on Teal Street is still on the market.”

“Yes, it’s still on the market,” Kirsty said carefully.

“I want to buy it.”

Kirsty looked cautious, distrustful, which Paxton wasn’t expecting. “Are you sure this time?”

“Yes.”

Kirsty sighed and grabbed her keys. “Well, let’s go look at it,” she said with all the enthusiasm of a person going in for a colonoscopy.

They both got in Kirsty’s minivan. Paxton couldn’t remember the last time they’d been in the same car together. It might have been as long ago as high school, when Kirsty would borrow her father’s ancient Range Rover and they’d drive into Asheville on Saturdays. She missed that, being in the car with Kirsty, talking about everything. Before adulthood. Before there were so many things they didn’t want each other to know.

The townhouse was in a community called Waterview, a pretty green place with a common that had a gazebo and a fountain. The homes were red-brick colonial and beautiful. The townhouse Paxton had loved from the moment Kirsty showed it to her last year was in a cul-de-sac. Wisteria vines grew around the door, and Paxton remembered thinking how wonderful it would be to walk in and out in the springtime, when the wisteria would be in full bloom. It would be like walking through a wedding arch every day.

Kirsty unlocked the security box. Inside were cathedral ceilings and hardwood floors. Upstairs were three bedrooms. That had been one of the points of contention with her mother when Paxton had wanted to move out last year, before she turned thirty. Her mother had insisted Paxton didn’t need so much room.

She thought about what Sebastian said about every life needing a little space, and how that leaves room for good things to enter it.

She wished she had thought of that to say to her mother at the time.

Paxton walked around the open living space. The cook’s kitchen off the living room was separated by a counter. She thought of how nice it would be to have friends over for dinner, idealizing things, of course, because the club members were married and that kind of girls’ night out didn’t seem to exist among them anymore. Or if it did, Paxton wasn’t included. If she had done this right out of college, maybe things would have been different, before all their lives got so complicated.

“It’s as beautiful as I remembered,” Paxton said.

Kirsty was standing by the front door. “I was counting on the commission from the sale of this place last year. When you decided not to buy it at the last minute, I was so upset with you.”

Startled, Paxton turned to her. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Kirsty shrugged.

“I’m sorry. We used to be able to tell each other anything. When did that change?”

“I don’t know.” Kirsty walked forward. “When you’re a teenager, your friends are your life. When you grow up, friendships seem to get pushed further and further back, until it seems like a luxury, a frivolity, like a bubble bath.”

“You’re important to me, Kirsty,” Paxton said. “You always have been. For some reason I just stopped saying it, showing it.”

“Wow, Pax, this is a side of you I haven’t seen in a while. What brought this on?”

“With the gala coming up, I’ve been thinking about our grandmothers, about how their friendships lasted their whole lives. I always thought it would be like that for us.”

Kirsty looked a little sad. “Me, too.”

And that was it, Paxton supposed. The acknowledgment that things had changed but that no one was willing to do anything about it.

“Okay. I want this place,” Paxton said. “As quickly as possible. I’m making an offer today.”

“Paxton, come here,” her mother called from the living room as soon as Paxton got in. When Paxton entered, her mother and father were sitting on the couch, watching the evening news.

“Your dress was brought back today,” Sophia said, indicating the large white box on the corner chair. “Be sure to try it on in case there are some last-minute alterations. I think you and your daddy and I should all go together, particularly since you don’t have a date.”

Paxton walked over to the box and opened it, still feeling a little of that thrill she used to have at the thought of party dresses, the fantasy of it all. She smiled when she saw the shimmering pink material, the sparkling jewels at the neckline.

“I have to be there early, so I’m driving myself.” She put the lid back on the box. “Mama, when did you move out of your parents’ house?”

Sophia turned away from the television. “After college. I moved in with a few of my girlfriends. I was with them for about two years before I started dating your daddy. It was one of the best times of my life. When Donald asked me to marry him, I was thrilled, of course, but a little sad, too. It meant leaving my friends behind.”

Paxton saw her father turn his head to look at Sophia when she said that.

“Why?” Paxton asked. “Couldn’t you have still been friends?”

“Surely you know this, Paxton. You make a choice. You’re not as close to your married friends as you once were, are you?”

“No,” she said. “But I think that’s like saying I’m sorry I left the water on and flooded the house. At some point, you could have turned it off. It’s not like it had to happen.”

Sophia suddenly frowned. “Why are you asking these things?”

Paxton picked up the dress box and walked over to her mother. “Because I’m moving out.”

Sophia waved that away with a flick of her wrist. “Oh, Paxton, we went over this last year. You’re much better off here. You don’t need a place of your own when Hickory Cottage has so much room.”

“I’ve waited too long. I’ve put it off too long. You moved out right after college. All my friends did, too. I need to do this.” She took a deep breath. “I put in an offer on a townhouse this afternoon.”

When it finally dawned on her that Paxton was serious, Sophia said, “Paxton! You didn’t!”

“Yes, I did. You can come see me any time you want. And I’ll visit you here. But I’m decorating how I want to decorate. And I’m not giving you a set of keys. I’m thirty years old, Mama. I think you’ve forgotten.”

“Donald!” Sophia said. “Say something.”

Her father turned to her, with a sparkle she hadn’t seen in a while. “Would you like a down payment as a housewarming gift?”

That made Paxton smile. “No thanks, Daddy.”

“Donald!”

“She’s leaving, Sophia. Maybe it’s time to try to work on just being you and me for a while.”

As Paxton left, Sophia was looking at her husband as if he’d just come back from a very, very long trip—and she wasn’t sure whether she was glad to see him or not.

When Paxton got to the pool house, she picked up the phone and called Willa. She wasn’t even sure why.

“Hello?”

Paxton hesitated a moment. “Hi. It’s Paxton.”

“It’s your sister,” Willa said.