Confessions from the Quilting Circle by Maisey Yates (ebook reader color screen txt) 📕

didn’t work like candy bars. Everything could never be equal. But they could be there together. And that was what mattered.

And with them, she could be brave enough to let her emotions go. To make it a little bit messy.

Maybe now, she would be brave enough to try with Ben.

There was no maybe. She would be.

Because life was too short to be this indecisive.

“I will. And I’ll use the yellow fabric. When I find it.” She kicked over a box, as if it might magically reveal the fabric, but it didn’t, just pictures. And an old, red leather book.

“What’s that?” Hannah asked, she swooped down and picked it up. “Ava Moore.” She flipped it open. “1923. I wonder... I wonder if this goes with my dress.”

“It might,” Avery said. “The 1860s diary went with my curtains.”

“Well, I’m going to keep it. Now, I say we raise a toast to Gram. For bringing us back here, for bringing us the quilt, and for bringing us together.”

“To crafting and togetherness,” Hannah agreed.

“And to red lipstick and spearmint gum.”

“Cheers.”

23

The love in my heart for my husband isn’t gone. But there is room now, beside the love, beside the grief. For bluebonnets and horse rides, and for the vast mountains that have replaced the endless prairies. And though I know it is wicked to even write it, John’s arms feel like home.

Anabeth Snow’s diary, 1864

Avery

She had gotten a job.

When Avery walked back into The Dowell House that evening with bags full of takeout hanging off of her arms she felt triumphant. She felt free. Her kids went upstairs, without saying more than three words to her. “You’re coming down for dinner,” she yelled at them. “Ten minutes. I’m not doing silent treatment.” The house was warm, the work that Josh was doing to fix the place up making it look inviting and absolutely perfect for a vacation rental. Though the idea made her a little bit sad now. Since it was beginning to feel like a haven in ways she hadn’t expected.

Of course, she hadn’t known what she would need.

Hannah passed the kids on her way down the stairs, and Avery was about to say something to her when her phone buzzed in her purse. She dug for it, maneuvering the bags on her arms as she did.

“Let me take that,” Hannah said, unburdening one side of Avery as she grabbed her phone and lifted it to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Mrs. Grant. This is Officer Dempsey from Bear Creek Police Department. I’m calling to let you know that the DA has decided to press charges against your husband. There will be a court date to follow.” Everything went into white noise in Avery’s head. The officer was still talking, making suggestions about restraining orders, and what she should do if she didn’t feel safe. But Avery was finding it difficult to concentrate.

A court case.

“Okay,” she said. “Thank you.”

“You’ll probably be brought in to testify, and so will your children.”

“Okay,” Avery said, the word a whisper. She gave the officer her current address, and other information, before getting off the phone.

“Was that the police?” Hannah asked.

“Yes,” Avery said, walking past her sister, through the living room and into the kitchen. She set the takeout bags on the counter, and Hannah followed suit.

“This has been a very weird day.”

“What are they doing?”

“Prosecuting. And I think I’m supposed to be really happy about that? But I don’t feel anything. I actually don’t know which of the two options is worse. Because I hate all of it.”

“I’m sorry,” Hannah said, standing with her arms awkwardly at her sides. Hannah was not going to hug her. And that was actually fine with Avery. When Hannah graduated to hugging people, then Avery knew something was really wrong.

“I got a job. I was feeling really excited about that until a minute ago. Now I just feel gross.”

“Where did you get a job?”

“Oh at The Roaming Pika.” The quirky store sold furniture, clothing, candles and gifts. It was eclectic and bohemian, and really not traditionally Avery at all. But it was on Main Street in town, was extremely cute and was within walking distance of The Dowell House. They were also able to work with her kids’ school schedule. So it was perfect as far as Avery was concerned. Didn’t pay enough to help her afford a whole lot, but when they did the whole divorce thing...

Well, if he was in jail or didn’t have a job, she supposed she wouldn’t have child support.

There were no good options.

There’s the house.

Their house.

She could sell it. She could sell it to pay for the kids’ education. As long as they moved in with her parents.

“I’m thinking too far ahead,” she said. “I need to stop it.”

“Hey. Understandable.”

“But there’s nothing I can do about the future. I can’t fix it or foresee it or any of that. All I can do is just... I got a job. And I told my friends. And they were awful.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“What didn’t surprise you?” Lark came breezing into the kitchen. “What’s for dinner?”

“Tikka masala,” Avery said. “And rice and naan. David hates Indian food. And he doesn’t like me to get takeout too much. And screw that guy.”

“Hear hear,” Lark said.

Her kids finally came downstairs, and since Aunt Hannah and Aunt Lark were something of a novelty, she actually got a little bit of human interaction out of them. They liked Indian food. And they were happy with the choice.

Avery added it to her list of small wins.

She was going to take every win, no matter how small. Because there were some big unknowns looming. Her kids reacted strangely when she told them about the job, but she supposed they probably didn’t know quite what to think. She hadn’t done anything but be there for them since they were born. That they were going to have to share some of her time was likely not their favorite thing. But then, their whole world was full of change