“Kara.” Raina cleared her throat. “It’s great that you are working in your field, but don’t you want to pass that wine test?”
My cheeks heated from her direct question. “Of course I do, but it’s not that simple. I’ve tried three times.”
“Then try again. Didn’t you tell us a few months ago that you were practicing with Roddy?”
“Yeah, well, Roddy is pissed with me. He thinks I’m not living up to my potential.”
Raina bobbed her head. “I’m not picking on you, but girl, you used to run around like a My Little Pony on crack. If you weren’t working, you were zip-lining, BASE jumping, or climbing a pile of rocks. I know that things changed since—”
I squared up my shoulders, squinted my eyes, and scrunched up my face in a don’t-screw-with-me look.
Raina raised her hands in the air, a sign of surrender. “Sorry,” she whispered. “We’re here for you, girl, and you’ve been keeping things in.” Her voice was genuine and a touch worried. It was the tone she used for her raindrop callers who had legitimate issues.
I relaxed and sighed; I knew it was over-the-top. “You aren’t wrong. And it seems like this week is tell Kara how it is.” I recounted my conversations with Roddy and Darren.
Nikki leaned and gave me a side hug. She knew how it felt to lose a parent. Her dad had died when she was younger, and from the reverent way she talked about him, I knew they were extremely close.
“Look,” Raina leaned back into the sofa, “I know I’m coming off as aggressive, and you can go around and take turns on how I haven’t done anything with my life. But I realized something the other day: We’re living scared. We used to be fearless and confident.”
I found myself nodding. I’d been thinking the same thing, and I was tired of this new version of me. I wasn’t weak. I didn’t lose, and if I did, I came back swinging.
Nikki jumped up from her seat. “Well, fuck me, this is sad.” She waved her hands. “Why’d we have to go there? This is like . . . fuck, like a smack in the face.”
There were a lot of talented people in the world, but Nikki was magic. Her soulful, scratchy voice was the perfect mix of blues and rock-and-roll. She always claimed that black people owned it before and she planned to take it back. I wanted that for her. Looking up at Sienna’s and Raina’s sad eyes, I knew they wanted it for her just as badly as I did.
“Maybe we can do this.” Sienna spoke up. “I’m a lawyer, and sure, I’m not running for office, but my husband-to-be is. I can still accomplish my goals to make the world a better place, and I intend on doing it.” She pointed at Raina. “And who’s to say Raina won’t ever be a writer, or Kara won’t be a master sommelier, or you a singer? We’re in our early thirties. We’re still young.”
“Oh yeah, I’ll pack up my kids, tell my hubs to quit his job that supports us all, and take them on tour with me. That’ll be great.”
“Sit down and stop pacing the floor, Nikki.” For the first time during this conversation, Raina sounded unsure. “Take a seat. Let’s just . . . chill out.” She took a deep gulp of wine and leaned back, tapping the glass stem.
Everyone was quiet. Sienna sat still, her eyes unfocused on the television. Nikki patted a complicated beat on her thighs. I wasn’t the only one facing my demons today.
I looked around the living room, taking in my Wall of Winning decorated with plaques and trophies and ribbons. I’ve beaten the odds before—this test was difficult, but I could overcome it.
Maybe it was the wine, but Raina was starting to make sense. I’d been living in fear of my own shadow for the past few years. I needed to grow a pair and get back in the game.
I lifted my eyes to meet Raina’s. I grinned. Her eyes sparked with recognition. She knew I was in. Her smile was bright as the evening star.
I cleared my throat. “Let’s do it.”
“Yes!” Raina pumped her fist in the air. “Sienna?”
Sienna nodded. “Yes. I’ll . . . I’ll have to change my goals. I’m helping Keith right now, and I need to focus on him. But maybe I can do more things for his campaign and be a part of his key staff once he wins.”
“Love it.” Raina bobbed her head. “Nikki, what say you?”
Nikki laughed, a vacant, lifeless laugh. “I’m sooo not in. I tried, remember? I failed.”
“You didn’t fail!” Sienna yelled. “You got—”
“Knocked up. And my band left me in the dust. James went to grad school, I had another kid, and staying at home made more sense. Life happened, my dreams ended.”
I stood and hugged her. I wasn’t a hugger, but I knew she needed it. “Then let’s reform your goal. You don’t want to leave your kids at home. I get it. But you could start off slow. You can write songs and compose music from home, right?”
“Right, but I want to be on stage. I miss it.”
“Then do some gigs, start small.”
“Who’s going to take care of the kids when I go to these nightly gigs?” Nikki waved her hand, but her eyes were different. There was longing there.
It was clear she wanted to go for it, so I pushed the pedal. “I’ll babysit for you. You know that.”
“Me too.” Raina and Sienna chimed in.
“And hello, grandparents!” Raina quickly added.
“I guess I could try—”
“She’s in!” Raina interrupted and went straight into boss mode. “We’re meeting every week, come hell or high water. No excuses, and we hold each other accountable. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” we all said back to her.
“Let’s make a toast,” Raina lifted her glass, and we followed suit. “To finding our happiness!”
CHAPTER 3
Not-So-Darling Nikki—Nikki
I was up to counting a gazillion sheep, and those wooly assholes still hadn’t helped me get to sleep. And who in their right mind would be comforted by a sheep’s creepy and judge-y eyes?
It wasn’t the sheep’s fault. I blamed Raina. And since she’d dropped the bomb on us reactivating our group over a week ago, I’d been downing warm milk and whatever bullshit remedy that came up on my Google search.
Bleep! Bleep! Bleep!
The alarm clock reminded me of a tractor-trailer backing up to unload its wares. I usually needed something loud and obnoxious to wake me up, but not today. Rolling over, I swiped the sleep system remote from the nightstand and adjusted the bed’s setting to a flat position. I hadn’t adjusted it much—just enough so that James wouldn’t give me an “I spent too much money on this bed for you not to use it” speech. It’s a bed, a soft one with a softer pillow. I hadn’t always had the luxury. My father was a traveling man, and a music man. He gave me my talent, or according to my mother, my curse.
I sighed heavily as I wrestled to shut the steel door in my mind, that led to the past. During all this, James had remained sound asleep. No surprise there. Lucky bastard. Not even the loud racket from our kids could wake him up.
Shuffling out of bed, I quietly navigated around, picked up my robe from the chaise lounge, and zombie-walked my way to the kids’ rooms. Per my usual routine, I veered toward my daughter Bria’s room first.