Real, Not Perfect by Stephanie Coleman

Author:Stephanie Coleman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: YOUNG ADULT FICTION / Religious / Christian / Social Issues, YOUNG ADULT FICTION / Social Themes / Peer Pressure
Publisher: Focus on the Family
Published: 2021-04-06T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

WHEN I AWOKE THE NEXT MORNING, I smelled something weird. Pleasant, but odd. I pulled my Northside hoodie over my wild bed head and traipsed downstairs to investigate.

Mom stood in the kitchen. Not only was she not on the couch, she was also dressed in capri pants and a linen shirt. Her hair wasn’t just brushed, but it was pulled back in a low, chic ponytail. The TV was off, the coffeepot gurgled to a finish, and that odd smell? Blueberry muffins.

How long had I been asleep?

She caught sight of me and smiled before saying, “Hey, pretty girl.”

I stood in the doorway and watched in shock for a few moments. “Hey . . .”

If Mom noticed my surprise, she pretended not to. “Did you know that today is National Blueberry Muffin Day?”

“Um, no.” I pulled the sleeves of my hoodie over my hands. “I didn’t.”

“Me neither. I mean, I think every day should be blueberry muffin day, but I guess somebody decided that today was the official day,” she said as she put two muffins on a plate for me and grinned. She even had on her eyeliner. “I thought we should celebrate properly.”

Seeing her like this—so animated and herself—filled me with such relief that I had a weird desire to burst into tears. “Okay, great,” I said instead.

I poured myself coffee and left the hazelnut creamer on the counter for Mom to use too. This moment felt fragile, like if I breathed too hard the illusion would shatter and she’d be back on the couch with HGTV.

But aside from some shadows under her eyes, Mom looked like her old, strong self as she settled across the table from me. “How was swimming last night?”

“Fine,” I said with a shrug. “Normal.”

Mom raised her eyebrows. “Because you always take pictures with cute boys?”

Huh? Several seconds later, I remembered the photo I’d snapped with Abraham. The heart emoji I’d added. She’d seen that? I slowly chewed my bite of blueberry muffin as I stared at my plate. I finally settled on saying. “Yep. Same ol’, same ol’.”

Mom’s laugh rang bright. “Liar. But you know what? I’m so glad you took that picture. Do you know why?”

I shook my head.

“Because when I looked at that in the middle of the night, I realized that you’re going to grow up whether I’m paying attention or not. And—” Mom’s chin trembled for just a moment before adding, “sadly, I have not been paying attention these last few weeks.”

My throat felt thick as I said, “Mom, it’s fine. You’ve had a lot on your mind.”

“Your dad choosing what he did is most definitely a setback.” Mom cupped her hands around her coffee mug. “And I can barely think about the baby without bursting into tears.” She paused, clenched her jaw for a minute, and then took a deep inhale. “But I finally realized in the early hours this morning that I don’t have to let him take more from me than he already has. That there’s a lot of life to enjoy.

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