Page 124 of The Promise Of You

Why is Mom in my business? Where is this coming from? “And now he’s dead, and Chloe has a different plan.”

Mom sighs. Dad grunts.

“What is this about? You’ve always trusted me with how I run my business.” After the accident, I received enough money for a hefty down payment on what’s now known as King’s Block in town. The old forge had been closed awhile, the current owner started doing something with it that went nowhere. He had part of it leased to the restaurant, didn’t know what to do with the rest.

I did. I bought the whole block. The town needed a pub at its heart, and I was going to give them that. I wanted to get rid of the restaurant, because of who was running it, but folks convinced me to try and let that shit go. Be the bigger person. They said it was enough I’d become Murphy’s landlord. He was probably going to leave anyway.

He didn’t.

Mom and Dad insisted on helping me financially. I tried to protest but quickly understood it was their way of helping me cope with the aftermath of the accident, since they couldn’t do anything about my injuries.

Who was I to deny them that?

At the beginning, they asked to be kept in the loop of how business was going, but they quickly took a step back, then stopped entirely asking questions.

Their financial assistance helped me scale up operations faster than planned. So much so that after a year and a half of operating the pub, I started investing the payments I would have normally made had I borrowed from a regular lender into an interest-earning account for the day my parents would need it. I even told Dad I could pay them back, and he almost took offense but promised to let me know if they ever needed it.

“Chloe knows what she’s doing, and Emerald Creek doesn’t need a larger pub. It needs more diversified restaurant options.”

Mom sighs again. “We’re just concerned that you’re listening to your heart, maybe too much.”

I clench my jaw. “Yeah, Mom, I’m listening to my heart. Darn right I am. And my heart tells me here’s a woman who took a job beneath her because her family needed her. Here’s a woman who rolled into Emerald Creek and was friends with half the town in less than a week. Here’s a woman who’s actually able to deal with a fucker like Samuel and not lose her cool and not lose her customers.” I pause, my eyes narrowed on Mom, daring her to say anything about my use of curse words. “Here’s a woman who gets us, gets the town, gets her staff, gets her customers, cooks like an angel… so yeah, Mom. I’m listening to my heart.”

I stand and push my chair and turn my back to them then whip around and point my finger at her. “’Cause that’s how you raised us.” I cross my arms on my chest and brace for the response.

Mom tears up.

Shit. I went too hard on her. Why did I have to raise my voice? That’s not how she raised us.

She walks to me and a weird smile spreads across her face, her eyes totally water, her chin wobbles, and she wraps her arms around my chest. I hug her back, open my mouth to apologize, but she says, “My baby’s in love.” And tilts her head back and adds, “I haven’t been so happy in years.”

I take a deep breath and hug her tight.

Dad clears his throat. “Well, I’m glad that’s sorted out, but it was never about the restaurant.”

Mom taps me on the back and takes her seat back next to her husband, wiping under her eyes.

Dad continues, “We—there’s a project we’d like to work on… and, well, we were wondering what your time frame for refunding the investment we made might be.”

Oh man. That’s just like them to try and figure out if they can actually ask for what was always theirs. Always putting their children before themselves. “I can refund you this month,” I say.

Mom’s head shoots back in surprise, and Dad has a slow grin that says he’s proud of me.

And I’m proud that this moment has come. At the time, I’d accepted their help only under the promise that should they need the cash for anything, they should ask me first. Not take out a loan.

They’re keeping their promise.

And I’m excited for them that they’re making plans. The day they stop making plans is the day they start getting old, and I don’t want to think about that day.

The truth is, their loan had become an emotional burden for me, a crutch I no longer need. If anything, it was a reminder of the worst time in my life, and I don’t need that anymore.

I’m ready to move on.

After dinner, Dad walks me to the truck. “Just look after yourself, son. And if she’s the one, tell her she can’t skip on dinner with her family.”

“Right,” I answer softly, feeling both warm and fucking scared again.

He stops in his steps before we reach the truck. “How’d you feel about seeing Sullivan again? And Murphy’s widow?”

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