We all turn to Grace and stare. “What?”
Grace smiles excitedly. “When I first had Tyler and was staying at home, I started to go stir crazy. There’s only so much cleaning and decluttering you can do before you start feeling trapped. I really thought I was starting to lose my mind when I saw a flier at Starbucks. It was for something called The Coffee Moms club. And so I went one Thursday morning, not knowing what to expect, and half thinking it would be like some weird therapy group. But it wasn’t like that at all, and we all had a blast. In fact, I met some of my closest friends that way.” Grace turns to me. “That’s what you should do, join a mom group.”
I consider Grace’s suggestion. Being part of a mom group sounds nice, but it doesn’t replace a career.
“But I want to go back to work.”
Grace nods. “That’s the point. Join the group, and then when you’re ready to go back to work, you’ll have a great support network. Other moms who have been there before can help make the transition easier.”
She has a good point. Maybe I wouldn’t have freaked out on my first day back if I’d had some guidance from other women who’ve dealt with the same experience.
I smile at Grace. “What would I do without you?”
* * *
I’m nervous on the morning of my first mom support group meeting, but I’m excited, too. I give Alfred a bath and put him in a fresh onesie so he’ll look his best. I wonder if I should’ve researched this particular group more, but I followed what Grace did and found a flier at my local coffee shop. Now I’m in our bedroom closet staring at all of my clothes. I have no idea what to wear.
“Evans, do you think it matters what I wear to this thing? Won’t everyone be in casual clothes and sweats?” I called him. He’s in his office down the hall.
Evans walks into the closet, which is bigger than my entire college apartment. “First impressions matter in all things, not just in business.” He considers my wardrobe, pausing to get a closer look at a sweater here, a skirt there.
He plucks two pieces from my closet and hands them to me. “I think you should wear this floral dress and leather jacket. That would be the perfect combination of edgy and cool.” The dress is pink with white and gray flowers. The leather jacket would look perfect if I ever went on the back of a motorcycle. Evans bought it for me as a gift, but I don’t know if it’s for me. The texture feels as soft as butter though.
“I want to look great, but I won’t feel great if I’m dressed too fancy.” I took the dress from him and put it in front of my chest. “Maybe I should just wear boyfriend jeans and a silk shirt.” I shimmy into the shirt and jeans. The shirt is a deep green so stains won’t show. The jeans are dark, stretchy jeans that help me suck everything in. I’m happy I can button them after having Alfred.
After Evans nodding his approval, he takes Alfred downstairs while I throw more things into my diaper bag. I meet him in the foyer and he helps me strap Alfred to my chest with the kangaroo pouch.
“Thanks.” I smile at Evans. I’m happy he decided to stay home a little longer to help me get ready.
“Good luck,” Evans says, and kisses me softly.
I head out to the park, which is only a ten-minute walk from our house. Blessedly, it’s not too hot out today, one of the benefits of the calendar slipping into September. I’m happy I don’t have to worry about sweating off my mascara—the only make-up that I put on.