Chapter 12 - Spring Cleaning
By April, the spring thaw had transformed the city into a vibrant tapestry of blooming dogwoods and green parks.
Rachel was knee-deep in spring cleaning—not of her house, which was now a sleek, minimalist two-bedroom loft downtown with tall windows overlooking the city skyline, but of her professional life.
She had just finished redesigning her catering menu for the upcoming wedding season when her phone buzzed on the kitchen island. It was an unknown local number.
Normally, she ignored unrecognized numbers, suspecting it might be Mark or one of Elaine’s flying monkeys trying a new angle of emotional manipulation. But something prompted her to swipe the answer button and bring the phone to her ear.
"Hello?" Rachel said, her voice neutral.
"Rachel?"
The voice was tentative, strained, and unmistakably Lauren’s.
Rachel went very still. She didn't speak. She waited, letting the silence stretch across the phone line like a wide chasm.
"I... I know you probably don't want to talk to me," Lauren continued, her voice sounding younger and more fragile than it had at Christmas. "And I’m sorry for calling. I got your new business number from the registry filing. I just... I wanted to let you know that the wedding is in six weeks."
"Congratulations, Lauren," Rachel said evenly. "I hope the new caterer works out for you."
There was a long, heavy pause on the other end of the line. When Lauren spoke again, her voice trembled slightly. "Mama tried to book another catering company and tried to pull the exact same stunt—telling them it was a promotional charity gift. They threatened to sue her within twenty-four hours. Andrew found out about what she did at Christmas, and... well, we had a massive fight. We ended up scaling the entire wedding down to thirty people at a nice restaurant downtown. No massive production. Just family and close friends."
Rachel listened without interrupting. She felt neither triumph nor bitterness—just a cold, distant pity for the girl trapped inside the Mercer family machinery.
"Mama isn't coming to the wedding," Lauren whispered, a tear catching in her throat. "She refused to attend unless Andrew and I apologized to her for 'disrespecting her authority.' Andrew told her if she couldn't respect our boundaries, she wasn't welcome."
"That sounds like a boundary Andrew should have set a long time ago," Rachel said softly.
"Yeah," Lauren breathed. "Rachel... I just wanted to call and say... I’m sorry. For Christmas. And for not saying anything sooner. I watched you carry all of that weight for years, and I just pretended I didn't see it because it was easier for me."
It was an apology. Not a perfect one, but an honest one.
"Thank you, Lauren," Rachel said quietly. "I appreciate you saying that. I really do. But I can't be part of that family dynamic anymore, and I need you to respect my privacy moving forward."
"I know," Lauren said, her voice small. "Good luck with your business, Rachel."
May you like
"Good luck with your wedding, Lauren."
Rachel ended the call, set the phone down on the counter, and walked over to her large floor-to-ceiling window. She looked out at the bright April sunlight flooding the city streets. The past was truly gone, buried under the weight of hard choices and unyielding self-respect.
