When I succeeded in this endeavor, I told them, “No matter what, for months, we talk before we go to sleep. We haven’t done that since he left. I asked him about it, him being away, and he says it’s the time difference.”

“They are hours behind us,” Josie said gently. “They could be busy.”

“You love a bitch, you find the time,” Alyssa snapped.

I looked at her.

Oh yes. She got it.

“I don’t know what happened,” I said.

“I don’t either,” Alyssa returned. “But you should call his ass on it and set up a meet to find out what’s up his ass the minute he gets back.”

Confronting Mickey Donovan. Not high on the things I found exciting.

No, I did find it exciting because that was our thing.

I just didn’t find it exciting now if, in doing it, he broke up with me.

“If he’s done, he’s going to be done,” I said, sitting back, shoulders slumping. “He’s Mickey.”

“He owes you an explanation,” Alyssa retorted.

He did.

I just wasn’t sure I wanted to hear it.

My eyes drifted to the salad I’d barely touched.

Since we got together, nothing, not anything, not in all that had happened gave indication that this wasn’t heading to something real. Something permanent. Something forever.

Mickey giving me a happy life and more importantly, me having the opportunity to give the same to Mickey.

There had been extreme craziness, the kind that could tear people apart, and it had all ironed out. Alcoholic ex-wives. Dirtbag ex-husbands. Troubled kids. Crappy jobs.

Heck, Mickey’s business was all set to go. He had two big jobs lined up to start on his return (contracting work, which was more money) and he was quitting Ralph his first day back to work.

I couldn’t imagine what had gone wrong.

Except in all that goodness, I was still me.

Boring Amelia Hathaway, no job, no drive, no ambition, spending her time baking and decorating and volunteering at an old folks’ home.

“Amelia,” Josie called.

I glanced her way, mumbling, “I’m not hungry. Do you mind if I take off?”

“Think you should stick with your girls, baby,” Alyssa told me gently.

I looked to her. “You have to get back to work and so does Josie.”

I, however, did not. It was one of the few days I didn’t go to Dove House.

With my kids at Conrad’s, I had exactly nothing to do.

“I’ll juggle an appointment,” Alyssa offered.

“I make my own hours, Amelia,” Josie reminded me.

I shook my head, digging in my purse at my side to pull out some bills. I took out a lot of them and threw them on the table.

“Lunch on me,” I said, not looking at either of them and sliding out of the booth.