It's 5:45, and I'm running behind. Going to April's for dinner isn't a formal event or anything, but I told my girls I'd be there at 7 and I plan to keep my promise. They aren't your girls Jackson, you mean your girl and your ex-wife, the usual voice in my head reminds me. I have a hard time remembering to refer to my marriage with April in past-tense sometimes (ahem, often). I just chalk it up to old habits dying hard and nothing else.
I roll out of bed and look for my keys so I can head to the grocery store to pick up a bottle of wine, salad and dessert for tonight. April fed and housed me during a rainstorm; the least I can do is replace the food I ate to return the favour. Getting out of bed proves much harder than I thought. I hadn't even realized I fell asleep, but I guess sleeping on a couch last night left me less rested than I originally noticed. I didn't really get as much done today as I hoped. My mom called me soon after I got back from April's and asked how things went last night. She sighed with relief when I told her much better than expected, but I heard the sadness and tears in her voice as we spoke. To be honest, I'm not quite sure why my mom is so upset. I haven't lived with her full time since, I don't know, age six? She shipped me off to expensive boarding school one day and I never looked back. Even in the past few years, she spent most of her time in Boston. It's only recently that she's made a more permanent home here on the west coast, and that was most definitely for Richard and not me. She'll be fine, I have no doubt about that.
Thinking about my mom's living situation made me realize I needed to work out housing in Boston. That was something I planned to bring up to April over dinner tonight. It made sense for us to cohabitate there – co-parenting and working together made it a no-brainer. I don't think April will see it the same way, though. When she moved out after us shacking up post-Harriet, she mentioned she needed boundaries and that us living together was causing her pain. I'm still not entirely sure what she meant by that, but I hope whatever it was has gone away in the past few years. We could have separate living quarters and didn't need to be anything but friends, much like it was in the old days when we were slumming it at Meredith's house or in our apartment with Alex. Just instead of having a roommate who brings home strange women, ours would be much cuter and much less of an annoyance. I looked at a few listings and saved them to my phone, making sure they all had some appealing features (White picket fence? She'll be drooling) to convince April. Whatever we end up doing, it has to be arranged fast. The last thing I need is to spend an extended period of time in a Boston hotel room with April, considering our track record.
I also booked us three plane tickets to leave in a week. I can move them if we need more time, but the longer we put off the move the harder the process will be. At least with the plane tickets confirmed we can't delay some of the more unpleasant things that need to be done, like telling Bailey and even worse, Matthew. In her usual manner, I'm sure April will get fussy over the cost of the plane tickets and offer to pay me back for hers and half of Harriet's. I've already set in my mind that I have no intentions of taking any money from her, and her dramatics will fall on deaf ears. We will have to talk about money matters at some point, but I'm hoping that can wait a while. I have more than enough to get us by in Boston for quite a bit of time and April and Harriet won't need to worry about anything.
Banging my head on my bedside table while grabbing my keys brings back April's advice to use a key hook. I should really consider that one of these days. Maybe in Boston I will. Searching for them took up almost 15 minutes, and now it's nearing 6:00. I hurry out to my car and head over to the grocery store.
While I'm driving, the dashboard lights up with a 'new call' notification. This isn't my April/Harriet ringtone, so I'm tempted to ignore it. I'm on a leave of absence and shouldn't have any urgent patient issues coming up. I just talked to my mom earlier today so she wouldn't call again so soon, and I can't for the life of me think who else would be calling at this time in the evening. I glance over at my phone and see that the caller ID says "Jo Wilson." Shit. I disappeared on her and she must be worried. I tentatively press answer and wait for the onslaught of questions
"Where have you been? You just up and left all of a sudden. Are you in the woods again?" she says in an angry-but-trying-to-stay-cool voice.
"Sorry Jo. You're right, I should've said something earlier. I've been trying to work out some issues and I went to go see my dad for clarity."
"Your dad? I've never heard you talk about him before…" She sounds so small. She wouldn't have heard me talk about him, the only person who's had that (mis)fortune is April.
"Yeah…it's complicated. Look, I still have a few things I'm sorting out, and I gotta go. I'll be back at work pretty soon though, can we talk then? I have a few things to tell you." I cringe as those last few words come out and I realize she'll be freaking out now, either that it's something really bad or that I'm prepping to confess my feelings to her.
"O-okay. Yeah sure, no problem. Stay safe," she says quietly. I hear a click and breathe a sigh of relief. I'm already a basket case over talking with April tonight, the last thing I need right now is to be worrying about Jo.
I pull into a parking spot and walk briskly into the grocery store. I don't spend a lot of time thinking and know exactly which aisles to go to. Ten minutes later, I have a bottle of Pinot Noir, a Caesar salad with extra croutons, and a strawberry cheesecake for dessert. Fancy? Maybe a little, but it's kind of a special occasion. I quickly pay and head back to my car. It's 6:43, which gives me just enough time to get to April's in traffic.
By the time I pull up to April's door for the second time in 24 hours, I'm a nervous wreck. I'm not totally sure why – I'm going to see my best friend and our daughter, who I just saw last this morning. There's nobody on Earth I'm more comfortable talking to than April, and yet the fact so much hangs between us that needs to be sorted out has me worked up. I'm afraid of the fight that I know is bound to happen, afraid she'll change her mind, afraid Matthew will pop out from behind a curtain like I'm the newest guest on Punk'd. Before I can give myself any more time to think, I grab the grocery bag and ring her doorbell. I'm greeted with April and Harriet in almost-matching purple dresses and two of the biggest smiles I've seen in ages. Before I could talk, a small yet loud voice pipes up.
"Daddy you came! Mommy said you were late because you take too long to choose your clothes." Harriet turns back to April and giggles. "This is why I choosed clothes for me and Mommy!"
April laughs and looks at me with dancing eyes. "It's 7:04, what else was I supposed to tell her?" The whole exchange is probably 30 seconds, yet I feel like I've shed years since my mini freak-out in the car. I give April a grin and a "what can I say?" shrug, and she grabs the grocery bag while I grab Harriet's hand and we all head inside.