She knew she had zero interest in changing. She didn’t want to heal and move on, but that wasn’t the point. She needed her friend back more than she needed to breathe. She’d hurt Ellen and now they were fighting. Unity would do anything to make that right. She didn’t have to believe—she just had to convince Ellen she believed. And maybe this was a start.

By late afternoon Ellen had lost her mad and she just missed Unity. The fight had been stupid. She and Unity had been friends forever. Shouldn’t they do better than they had that morning?

She was just about to call and say that when Cooper walked into the living room, a basketball under one arm, his dark hair falling in his eyes.

“I’m meeting Luka at the park,” he said, looking more like a kid than a young man in his baggy shorts and oversize T-shirt. “Then we’re going back to his place for a barbecue. I’ll be home by eleven.”

She smiled at him. “Have fun.”

“I will.” He hesitated, his blue eyes darkened with concern. “What are you going to do, Mom?”

As in it was a Saturday night and she was a carefree single woman who should have plans. Plans that made her sound like she didn’t need her teenage son worrying about her.

She waved her cell phone. “I’m about to call Unity. We’re, ah, going to hang out with some friends.” She tried to look amused. “Sort of an old people party.”

Coop looked doubtful. “Really?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Okay. Have fun.”

“You, too.”

He left. Seconds later, she heard his car start up. When he’d pulled out of the driveway, she told herself at least half of the statement had been true—she was going to call Unity.

But before she could dial, her phone rang. She glanced at the unfamiliar number.

“Hello?”

“Ellen, it’s Jeremy.”

Who? She didn’t know any...

Crap, crap, crap. Actually she did know a Jeremy, or she had back in high school. They’d dated for a month, he’d gotten her pregnant and then he’d disappeared. Since then she’d heard from him every five or so years. He asked about Coop but never wanted to see him. She supposed every now and then the guilt got to him.

“This is unexpected,” she said.

“I know. How are you?”

“Good and you?”

“Good.”

There was a moment of silence. She heard him clear his throat.

“I, ah, I’ve been thinking about what happened all those years ago. About Cooper and how he’s doing. I’m in a different place now and thought maybe, if you wouldn’t mind, I could meet him.”

If Ellen had been standing, she would have fallen. Or fainted.

“He’s seventeen. He’s practically an adult and you just now want to meet him?” She knew she sounded shrill, but was the man on crack? “You signed your rights away before he was born. You walked out on me and him. You’ve shown absolutely no interest in him.”