Free The Year We Turned Forty by Liz Fenton Page A

everything else? Even the smallest changes had consequences?”
    â€œOh God. You’re right. We need to be careful.” Gabriela remembered the way Blair ran his hand over his slicked-back hair when he talked about magic. Blair had told them they could only impact their own orbit, but still. That pressure alone was frightening.
    Gabriela let out a long breath, scanning the guest room, feeling much like a guest herself. The stark white linens on the bed, the angular side tables and empty dresser top—couldn’t she have placed a vase, a picture, anything on top to personalize it?—made it seem cold, uninviting, the opposite of what the room should be. Was that the person she had been? She reached up for the necklace she always wore, the one that had belonged to her mother, and fingered it delicately, relieved it was still there. It was the only thing in her life that represented her; everything else was packed away in boxes in the back of a closet because she found it too hard to look at. She slowly stood up, her feet still unsure beneath her, and tiptoed down the hallway to the master bedroom, holding her breath as she looked inside. But all she saw was a neatly made bed.
    â€œBut don’t worry, Gab, we won’t screw our lives up, at least not any worse than we did last time!” Jessie announced, her chipper tone startling Gabriela, who had been so deep in thought.
    â€œYou’re not scared?” Gabriela asked.
    â€œI’m scared shitless. I’m not sure I remember how to do this,” Jessie answered without hesitation. But as she looked at Lucas and her daughters playing with his tiny toes, she felt hopeful. “So far, the only downside I see is that I won’t get to find out what happens next season on Scandal ,” Jessie said, a smile in her voice.
    Gabriela exhaled, wishing that really was the only downside, because they both knew it wasn’t. “So what is the hottest TV show this year anyway? Desperate Housewives ?”
    â€œI think so,” Jessie answered, thinking those women with secrets might be able to teach her a thing or two.
    â€œWait! Have you heard from Claire?” Gabriela asked, suddenly frightened she hadn’t made the journey with them. But then Blair’s words replayed in her mind—it was all of them or none of them.
    â€œNo, I haven’t. I’m going to hang up and call her,” Jessie said. “Do you know her number? I can’t find it stored in this ancient BlackBerry of mine. How the hell did people function before smartphones? I feel like I’m in the Middle Ages!”
    Gabriela laughed. “No clue. I can’t even remember the last time I dialed an actual phone number! Colin always told me it would bite me in the ass that I didn’t have anyone’s number memorized. Guess he was right.”
    â€œI only remembered yours because it’s so easy. The last four digits being 4444.” Jessie smiled as Lucas made a sound and she smoothed his thick patch of dark hair. “And I think there’s something about the old-school way of doing things that I sometimes miss. Maybe being back here will slow us down, teach us to appreciate the little things?”
    â€œUh-huh. You say that until you want to text someone, but realize you’ll have to scroll through three letters each time you want to type one!”
    â€œWhatever! You just get over here. I need you!”
    â€œRemind me. What hospital did you deliver at?”
    â€œCedars-Sinai.”
    â€œOkay, see you soon,” Gabriela said. She got dressed quickly then sighed with relief when she found her keys dangling from a hook in the kitchen, where she’d always kept them. She slid into the driver’s seat and reached to select the hospital in her GPS, but found only a CD player, the black leather case filled with her favorite music resting on the passenger seat of her 2000 BMW. “Fuck it,” she sighed.