Run, Girl (If You Can)

"Mom. Mom. Mom!"

Violet's voice snapped Keeley out of her half asleep state. She was so tired. Her daughter looked at her expectantly and she realized she had probably been trying to talk to her.

"I'm sorry, Vi. Could you repeat that?" she asked in a weary voice. 

"I said I need a ride to Noah's house. He needs help on his science fair project," Violet replied impatiently. "What's with you? You've been such a space case lately."

Keeley couldn't deny it. She hadn't missed any major commitments and let her kids or friends down—thank goodness—but she was pretty out of it. Her mind was either back in the lab or on a tropical island somewhere.

She needed a vacation so badly but wasn't likely to get one until the current trial finished. Then she might be able to take a week off.

"Work is getting to me," Keeley confessed. "Don't worry about it though. I'm fine."

Violet scrutinized her. "You're not fine. You are clearly in desperate need of a vacation. When does your trial end?"

"The end of March."

"Perfect! We can go somewhere for spring break. If you plan this far ahead there's no way your boss could say no. You usually have a couple weeks between trials anyway to write the report for the FDA, right?"

Keeley sighed. Yes, but the entire two weeks was spent writing. She supposed her research assistants knew the material well enough to do most of it if she did take a week to get away. All she would have to do is triple check everything when she got back.

She had become nearly as severe of a workaholic as Aaron had been in their first life. She needed to take time off for the sake of her sanity and to focus on her family for a while.

"Sure, Vi. I'll ask Doctor Butler," Keeley promised. 

Her daughter smiled and flipped her ponytail over her shoulder. "Great! Now take me to Noah's please."

Leaving the other kids in the care of their older brother, Keeley went down to the basement and started up the car. This would be so much easier once Violet and Kaleb could drive. They were only a little over a year away now!

Aaron could obviously afford to get them each their own car. Violet could drive herself to ballet or the Singletons' place whenever she wanted. Kaleb could take himself to all of his sports practices. They might even be persuaded to help chauffeur their siblings.

Would it be easier to hire another driver? Probably. But after Henry died driving the car Keeley was in she felt like she couldn't risk anybody else's life. Aaron hadn't been able to persuade her otherwise.

When she dropped her daughter off, she briefly stopped in to say hi to Jennica. They caught up for a few minutes (they had barely seen each other two days ago) and Jennica offered to have Violet stay for dinner.

She or Cameron could drop her off afterwards in exchange for the help she was giving Noah on his project. Both of them were hopeless when it came to science, which was why he had conscripted his best friend.

Like her mother, Violet had a natural aptitude for science. The difference was that she didn't enjoy it. Her science grades were always at the top of the class though.

Keeley left Noah's project in her daughter's capable hands and went home to lie down. Aaron should be home soon; he could handle the kids for a little bit while she ordered some takeout. She definitely did not have enough energy to cook tonight.

===

"I've done enough science fair projects in my day that I've compiled a list of ideas for you," Violet said as she pulled a neatly folded piece of paper out of her back pocket.

She handed it to her best friend who read it eagerly. As he did, she sat cross-legged on his bed and sighed. Her mom's blatant exhaustion was contagious. Now she was tired too.

It must be hard balancing a career and a family. Her mom never missed a single event or skipped out on driving her kids to their activities even if she was a bit spacey lately. It had definitely taken a toll on her.

To be perfectly honest, it was part of why Violet had chosen to be a ballerina. Of course she loved to dance—it was her favorite thing to do—but something about the timeline appealed to her. Dancers typically retired before the age of 35.

Violet could dance to her heart's content for a while and then get married and focus on being a mom. Once her kids were older, she could be a dance teacher or something. Provided she was even able to find a husband.

At age fourteen, she had never been asked on a date. Tons of other eighth graders she knew had boyfriends or girlfriends. So why did no one want her? She had specifically worked on not keeping to herself so much!

She was at an age where she wondered what it was like to love and be loved. It was hard not to considering how lovey dovey her parents were all the time. Was it so bad to imagine having something like that for herself?

The romance novels she had been into recently didn't help matters. Despite her cold exterior, Violet was actually quite sensitive.

She squealed to herself reading about all of the cute things in her novels when no one else was around. How romantic would it be if a handsome guy did those sorts of things with her? Ah, she couldn't wait for the day she had her epic love story.

Speaking any of those thoughts aloud was impossible though. Her brothers would never let her hear the end of it. Violet would talk to her mom about it if she wasn't so obviously worn out; she didn't need anything else to worry about right now.

"What about the teeth stains one? That seems easy enough to do," Noah said, jolting Violet out of her thoughts.

"Oh sure. Just make sure you have a hypothesis beforehand. Like which liquids would stain teeth the most ranked down from there," she said absentmindedly.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Are you alright? You were totally zoned out there for a minute."

"Yeah, I was just thinking about something."

She certainly couldn't tell Noah her worries about romance. He was a boy. He wouldn't get it.

At least he probably wouldn't tease her like Kaleb did. Nobody teased more than her twin. Noah typically defended her when he did it within earshot and her brother always called him a spoilsport or a suck up or lame. Violet didn't think sticking up for someone made them lame. She always let her friend know she appreciated it somehow.

"What could you be thinking about that made you look like that?" he persisted.

Violet hid her embarrassment by being brusque. "Do you want my help on this project or not? Focus, Noah!"

"Right, sorry."