Kindred Souls

Chapter 1-1

1

AlmaCarrots washed, I shake off the excess water and put them onto the veggie tray. Grabbing a dish towel, I dry my hands and stare out the window above the sink toward the backyard. My daughter, Love, in all of her three-year-old adorableness shoots down the slide of her play structure. Her poufy princess Belle dress flies up as she descends. I can’t help but smile, a genuine happy grin.

I may be biased, but my little girl is beautiful beyond words. She reminds me so much of Leo with her dark hair, bright blue eyes, and radiant smile. Her soul is a hundred percent kind, good, and brave—just like her daddy’s. The past three years and nine months have been the worst years of my life but also the best. Every day is a true power struggle of opposing emotions. Grief fights to pull me down, but joy always seems to win, filling my heart with gratitude. And, how could it not? I have my little Love.

My mother, Lee-Anne, meets Love at the base of the slide and swoops her up into her arms, spinning her in a circle. Love giggles, and her yellow dress flutters in the warm breeze. My smile widens and I shake my head. Sometimes, I can’t believe that this woman before me is my mother. She bears no resemblance to the woman who raised me, and I use that word loosely. She’s present and sober, two things she never was when I was growing up. She’s also widowed.

Two years ago, she showed up on my doorstep a shell of a woman. At that time, I hadn’t seen or heard from her since Leo’s funeral. She’d never even met Love. She was clinging to a black box, which turned out to hold the ashes of my father, who I then learned had passed of a heart attack. The decades of partying and drugs had been too much for his body.

It’s strange, but I feel like at that moment, on my doorstep, was the first time my mother actually saw me. She had lost the love of her life as I had lost mine. We had something in common. We both belonged to a club that neither of us had wanted access to.

I took her in and sent her to a six-month rehab facility, where she finally became clean for the first time since my birth. It wasn’t easy for either of us. My mother is as stubborn as they come, so she fought the process. Yet after months of rehab, therapy, tears, and long conversations, we made it here. I bought her a condo a few blocks from this house so she has her own space, but she’s here almost all of the time. She loves being a grandma, or Gigi, as she prefers to be called. I guess Love saved her, too.

It’s surreal seeing my mother sober, caring, and all the things she wasn’t for me, but I love it nonetheless. I’m so glad my daughter has her.

A pinky finger wraps around mine, pulling me from my thoughts. “Hey, you,” I say, turning toward my best friend Amos.

He pulls me into a hug. “Everything looks great—the decorations, the books, the cake.”

“Thanks.” I step back from him and look around at the explosion of yellow balloons and everything from Disney’s Beauty and the Beast, Love’s current favorite movie. “It turned out pretty good.”

“It turned out perfectly. You’re super woman, Mutt.” The nickname he’s held for me since our childhood makes me smile as he leans in and kisses my forehead. “Has Love seen it?”

“Yes, she was a ball of giggles this morning,” I nod toward the window. “She’s out there in the fanciest Belle dress I could find in all her princess glory.”

“And the weather is perfect.” He raises an eyebrow. “So, all of that worrying for nothing.”

In Michigan, it’s a toss-up whether May second is sunny and eighty degrees or snowy and cold. The weatherman had predicted cold and sleet, but I learned long ago never to rely on the news weather forecasters. They don’t seem to be able to predict Michigan weather any better than I could.

I release a sigh. “Yeah, it’s all good.”

Amos faces me and takes my smallest fingers on each hand in his. “You are an amazing mother, Alma. Truly. Love is so lucky to have you. You’ve been through so much, and every step you take is with strength and grace. I’m so proud of you. Relax and enjoy today. Your baby is three.” He purses his lips together in a smile, swinging our joined hands between us.

I bite the interior of my cheek and exhale. “Yeah, she is. I can’t believe it. She’s three!” I chuckle. “Where has the time gone?” My smile falters, and unshed tears come to my eyes. “I wish he was here for this.” My words are a sad whisper.

“He is,” Amos reassures me. “You know he is.”

I nod.

“You’re doing so great.” He squeezes my hands before calling out, “Alexa, play ‘Here Comes the Sun’ by the Beatles.”

The first few notes of one of my favorite songs sound out through the speakers, and I smile.

Amos takes a step back before bending and offering me his hand. “Can I have this dance?”

“Sure.” I grin, placing my hand in his. I release a soft gasp when he pulls me to him.

We dance around the kitchen, and I laugh as Amos spins and dips me. Dance therapy at its best. By the time the song is over, all of the pent-up stress and emotions have fallen away, and I’m simply here—present in the moment. As always, my best friend knew just what I needed.

The doorbell rings, indicating the arrival of a party guest.

“Alexa, play the Beauty and the Beast soundtrack,” I call out. Pulling my hands from Amos’s grasp, I plop a spoon into the veggie dip.

“Really?” Amos scrunches his face in a mock protest.

“All day long, baby.” I smirk. “Don’t worry, by the end of the day, you’ll be singing along with the enchanted silverware. Can you get the door? I’m going to go outside and get Lee-Anne and Love.”

As I pull open the sliding glass door to the backyard, Amos says, “Alexa, turn the volume down,” and it causes me to laugh.