Balancing Act, page 1
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2023 by Geralyn Dawson Williams
Reading group guide copyright © 2023 by Geralyn Dawson Williams and Hachette Book Group, Inc.
Cover art and design by Nicole Lecht. Cover images © Getty Images; Shutterstock. Cover copyright © 2023 by Hachette Book Group, Inc.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: March, Emily, author.
Title: Balancing act / Emily March.
Description: First edition. | New York : Forever, 2023. | Series: A Lake in the Clouds novel
Identifiers: LCCN 2023026366 | ISBN 9781538707401 (trade paperback) | ISBN 9781538707425 (ebook)
Subjects: LCSH: Mothers and daughters--Fiction. | Self-realization in women--Fiction. | LCGFT: Novels.
Classification: LCC PS3604.A9787 B35 2023 | DDC 813/.54--dc23/eng/20230609
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2023026366
ISBNs: 9781538707401 (trade paperback), 9781538707425 (ebook)
E3-20231103-JV-PC-VAL
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Discover More
Reading Group Guide Questions for Discussion
About the Author
Also by Emily March
Praise for Emily March
For Emmie
You’re the sunshine in my sky.
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Prologue
August
Eternity Springs, Colorado
WILLOW ELDRIDGE STOOD IN the dining hall of the Rocking L Ranch. She told herself that she absolutely, positively couldn’t cry. She had to show courage and project confidence. She had to paste on a smile and be happy!
Heaven help her.
This was so hard. Willow didn’t know if she could do it. The what-ifs swirled through her head like scraps of paper in a funnel cloud. Today, she was dropping her son, Drew, off for a week at summer camp. This would be the first time they’d spent a night apart since his father died over a year and a half ago.
“Mom, how far away is Nana’s house again?” Drew asked.
“Lake in the Clouds is less than one hundred miles from here.” Barely. Ninety-eight point six, to be exact. With much of it over winding mountain roads. “I can be here in no time at all if you really need me. But you’re not going to need me. You’re going to be too busy having tons of fun.”
He sighed. “I guess. I’m a little scared.”
Me, too. “That’s normal, buddy, but you’ll be fine. You’re just about the bravest boy I know.”
“You don’t know any other boys.”
“That is not true. What about Jackson and Aiden and Ethan?”
At this mention of three of his friends, he shrugged. “They’re all braver than me. I’m a wussy.”
“Andrew John Eldridge! You are not a wussy.”
“Nathan Campbell says I am.”
“Nathan Campbell is a bully, and you do not need to listen to anything he says.”
“He’s my friend.”
“Well, he’s not a very good friend,” Willow retorted. The child was a mean little tyrant, and Willow wanted her son out of that boy’s orbit. She had her fingers and toes crossed that Drew and Nathan ended up in different classes this year. That might not solve the problem, but it certainly should help.
A teenager approached wearing khaki shorts and a green T-shirt sporting the Rocking L Ranch logo. They’d met Sean Rafferty upon their arrival ten minutes ago, and he was to be one of Drew’s cabin counselors. “All right, Drew. I have you all checked in. You’re going to be in Black Bear Cabin. If you come with me, I’ll show you where to stow your gear and introduce you to your cabinmates.”
Willow swallowed hard and willed away the tears that threatened. Then, leaning down, she gave Drew one more hug and said, “I’ll see you in a week, Drew. Have a fabulous time. I love you.”
She waited, hoping for an I love you, too, but Drew was an eight-year-old boy. He wouldn’t get mushy in front of his counselor. So instead, he gave her a wave and a shaky smile and said, “Bye, Mom.”
She allowed her eyes to water only after he had walked out the door. She turned around to head toward her car and discovered the camp director watching her, his dark eyes warm with understanding, his smile sympathetic. She’d liked Chase Timberlake when she’d spoken to him on the phone earlier this week. Meeting him today reinforced that positive impression. He struck her as capable and caring. Drew would be in good hands.
Approaching Chase, Willow said, “Thank you again for making room for him.”
He gave her an easy smile. “I’m thrilled we had a bunk for Drew. We rarely have a last-minute cancellation, so I think this was meant to be. He’ll have a great week and come home with tales of grand adventure. So don’t worry about him. We’ll take good care of him.”
“I know you will. Everyone I’ve spoken with raves about what a special place the Rocking L Ranch is and how much good you’ve done for troubled children in the years you’ve been in operation.”
“Camp is a labor of love for many of us in Eternity Springs,” Chase replied.
The camp had been founded by local philanthropists with the vision of serving children who had suffered a significant loss. Two weeks ago, a friend of Willow’s aunt had suggested that Drew apply for a place in the camp’s final summer session. The phone call from Chase with news of the opening had come earlier this week. Life had been a mad rush of camp prep ever since.
Someone called Chase’s name, and he excused himself. “We’ll see you next Saturday, Willow. Don’t worry about him. Drew is going to have the time of his life.”
“I know he will—if he manages to not hurt himself. Word of warning, Chase. The child is accident-prone.”
“Noted. We’ll keep an extra-close eye on him. You have my word.”
Willow believed him. The Rocking L Ranch had an excellent safety rating.
She returned to her car with her tears mostly vanquished and looking forward to her afternoon. Willow and Emma, her four-year-old daughter, would be joining Willow’s mother and aunt for High Tea at the upscale resort where they’d booked rooms for a girls’ weekend in this picturesque little mountain town. Emma had picked out the cutest little hat to wear, and she was very excited. It promised to be a nice family getaway. Willow regretted that her sister Brooke wasn’t able to join them.
They’d be staying at Angel’s Rest Healing Center and Spa—she loved the sound of that. Who knows? Maybe after a healing soak in the hot springs she’d finally find her courage and tell her mother about life in Nashville and the circumstances surrounding her husband’s death. Willow knew she couldn’t make things right with her mother until she did that.
She also knew she couldn’t turn back the clock. She wished she hadn’t been so blind, so trusting. If only she’d used her brain instead of following her heart.
This stupid heart of hers. Seriously, it wasn’t to be trusted.
And yet she wouldn’t trade Drew and Emma for anything.
Willow gazed out at the towering mountain peaks surrounding her and her lips twisted in a wry smile. She definitely had the proverbial hill to climb. She had a lot to make up for where her mom was concerned.
Genevieve Prentice was a good mom. An excellent mom. Wi
Willow wanted to fix herself.
The most difficult step would be to come clean, to explain why she’d erected this wall between herself and her mom for the past decade. She needed to be honest with her mom about why she didn’t move home to be closer to her family after Andy died.
Maybe I’ll do it this weekend.
Yeah, right. And maybe little piggies would fly, and Drew would never have another cut, scrape, or broken bone, and Emma would suddenly decide she likes green vegetables after all.
“Baby steps, Willow Eldridge,” she murmured. Baby steps were progress. She and her children were here in Colorado. Hopefully, upon their return to Nashville in two weeks, they will have made significant steps forward in repairing relationships and healing broken hearts.
By the end of their spa weekend, Willow was optimistic. She’d definitely made progress. She couldn’t remember having laughed so much with her mom in years. Monday evening, as she watched her mother cuddle and love on Emma as she read the four-year-old a bedtime story, Willow’s heart overflowed with love.
Genevieve Prentice rocked being a grandmother. She adored Drew and Emma. She was patient, caring, and kind—always willing to listen when one of the kids wanted to talk. She never gave the appearance of favoring one grandchild over the other. She played pirates with Drew—his latest obsession—and stacked blocks with Emma. This afternoon, Genevieve had glowed with happiness when she allowed Emma to play in the best toy box in all the world: Nana’s jewelry box.
On Wednesday afternoon, Willow received an e-mail from Drew. Short and filled with misspellings, it nevertheless reassured her that he was indeed having the time of his life.
“You miss him terribly, don’t you?” Genevieve observed when Willow read it to her. She stood at her kitchen sink, adding water to a pitcher filled with hummingbird food concentrate.
“Like my right arm.” Willow gave a little laugh, lifting her gaze from her phone. “I’m torn. On the one hand, I’m thrilled for him to be having such a wonderful time, but on the other hand, it makes me sad that I’m not there to share it with him. It’s different from sending him off to school. I know what his day is like at school. But this week, I’m clueless. There’s a big event in his life that I know nothing about.”
Her mother’s smile turned bittersweet as she stirred the bright red sugar water with a spoon. “Oh, that emotion I understand all too well.”
At that moment, Willow felt an urge to explain herself. Maybe, just maybe, she had the gumption to do this.
She cleared her throat. “Mom, there’s something I need to say to you.”
The light in Genevieve’s green eyes turned wary. “Something’s wrong?”
“No,” Willow assured her, though, in all honesty, that wasn’t the truth. Something was wrong. It had been wrong for years. The time had come to make it right.
How to start? You were right, and I was wrong, and I’m sorry? I’ve been a horrible daughter. Please forgive me? Or maybe, Guess what, Mom. Turns out I was married to Mr. Wrong.
Before she could decide which tack to take, her phone rang. Glancing down at the screen, she spied a name that struck fear in her heart. Rocking L Ranch.
Willow’s gaze flew up to meet her mother’s. “It’s the camp. Why are they calling me?”
Her heart in her throat, she thumbed the green button. “Hello?”
“Mrs. Eldridge? Your son is okay. However, I’m afraid there’s been an incident.”
Chapter One
New Year’s Eve
Lake in the Clouds, Colorado
SEATED ON A SOFA with her feet propped up on an ottoman in front of a crackling fire, Genevieve Prentice wiggled her toes. The jingle bells on the tips of her woolen world’s BEST NANA slipper socks jangled.
Her sister, Helen McDaniel, was sitting beside her and jangled her own slipper bells in response. Her socks read AUNTIE! LIKE MOM, ONLY COOLER. Both women wore pajamas as they sipped their nightcaps and watched the clock tick toward midnight.
“So, admit it,” Helen said. “You’re glad I dragged you kicking and screaming to the party, aren’t you?”
“I wasn’t kicking and screaming.”
“Sure you were. You’ve never liked New Year’s Eve parties, but you enjoyed yourself at this one. Admit it.”
“I enjoyed myself,” she deadpanned.
“Oh, quit being such a scrooge.”
“You’re a whole holiday behind, Helen. New Year’s Eve is a fat little cherub in a sash.”
“Well, you don’t have chubby thighs, and no one has ever accused you of being an angel.”
Genevieve snickered and sipped her cognac. “You’re right. I did enjoy myself. The party was fun. Your neighbors at Mountain Vista Retirement Community are interesting people. Of course, the whole celebrating by London time was different, but it makes sense for partygoers who need to be in bed by seven o’clock.”
“Now, that’s mean. The party didn’t end until ten.”
“I was speaking about myself.”
Helen leaned away from Genevieve and gave her a considering look. “Hello. Light bulb moment. You have a big birthday coming up this year, don’t you? You’re bothered by it.”
“No, I’m not,” she lied.
“Balderdash.”
“Now, there’s a word right out of the old folks’ lexicon,” Genevieve grumbled.
“Oh, stop it. Sixty is the new forty. It’s middle age today.”
“There’s some new math. Imagine how loudly my knees will creak if I live to be one hundred and twenty!”
Helen tapped her lips with her index finger. “We should do something special for your birthday. Throw a big party.”
“I do not want a party. Of any size.”
“Spoilsport. Something else, then, to mark the occasion. Maybe finally take a hot-air balloon ride with me? You’ll love it as much as I do, Genevieve. I promise.”
Genevieve snorted. “It’ll be a cold day in Austin in August when I go up in one of those death traps.”
Footsteps descending the staircase provided a welcome distraction, and Genevieve smiled up at her daughter, Willow. “Everything okay with the children?”
“Emma is fine. Sound asleep. Sledding with her uncle Lucas today wore her out.”
When Willow didn’t immediately follow up with a mention of her son, Genevieve’s stomach sank. Poor little Drew had been having a time of it since summer camp. “And Drew?”
Willow sighed. “He’s awake. He says he had a nightmare about the accident.”
“Which one?” Helen asked.
“It was a combo nightmare about his dad and camp. And just when I’d begun to relax, too.”
A burning log split and fell in the grate with a thunk. Flames flared, and sparks rose up the chimney. Genevieve lifted her gaze toward the second-floor bedroom occupied by her grandchildren during this holiday visit. They’d all worried that a return to Colorado might trigger another panic attack for Drew, a malady he’d suffered numerous times since that unfortunate business at camp this past summer.
Drew had been sitting at the poolside when another boy thought it would be funny to pretend to drown. Frightened children screamed as the lifeguard dove into the water. The child standing behind Drew was jostled by the crowd and spilled a cherry snow cone all over Drew.
That had triggered a flashback to the car accident that had injured Drew and killed his dad. Reliving his terrors, Genevieve’s grandson had lost his cool.
“That poor child,” she said now. “He’s had too much trauma to bear for someone his age. My heart aches for him.”
As Helen nodded her agreement, Willow said, “When we get home, I’m going to see if I can’t find a new counselor for him. Dr. Harris is nice, but I don’t think she’s helping.”
“He has seemed a bit withdrawn during this visit,” Genevieve observed.
“Withdrawn?” Helen repeated with a scoff. “Are we talking about the same boy I watched ride a snowboard yesterday? He attacked the bunny slope. Defeated it, too.”
“Colorado has been good for him. He loves it here,” Willow said. “But Mom is right. At home, he’s been acting clingy and timid like he did in the months right after his father died. He keeps his feelings bottled up inside.”
