At least not the reason behind it.
“I don’t drink alcohol and I never have. With my mother’s problems with addiction, it just seemed better not to tempt fate. Or my own possible weaknesses.”
“Like I said before,” he murmured. “Smart. Strong. Resilient.”
“More like desperate not to repeat any of her mistakes.” Shaking her head, she sent him a small smile. “So, no, your brother’s attitude didn’t bother me. And since you’re going to write down his recipe for this vinaigrette, I’m going to call me and Toby even.”
Miles set his empty bowl on the side table. “I’ll be happy to write it down,” he said, tugging her feet onto his lap. “But I didn’t learn it from Toby. I learned it from my mom.”
Lifting the last bite of her food to her mouth, Tabitha froze. It was a simple comment, one that shouldn’t elicit anything other than mild curiosity.
Except he’d never, not once, brought up either of his parents before. Not first. Not out of the blue.
He’d never, not once, talked about them without her asking about them.
Which, she realized, she hadn’t done nearly enough.
“Your mom was a good cook?” she asked, keeping her own tone casual.
He nodded and began massaging her feet, as if he couldn’t be this close to her and not touch her. “Both my parents were, though Dad was a better baker. They taught us all the basics.”
She set her own bowl aside. “I’d love to hear more about them—your mom and dad. That is… if you want to tell me.”
Head bent, he exhaled slowly. Heavily. “I do. I want to tell you about them. How amazing they were. How loving and kind and wonderful.” His voice was thick, and he cleared his throat. “But I haven’t talked about them, to anyone, for a very long time. And I don’t know where to start.”
Leaning forward, she cupped his cheek with her hand, smoothing her thumb along the hard line of his jaw when he nuzzled into her touch. “Why don’t we start at the beginning? Their beginning.”
***
Their beginning.
Miles liked the sound of that. He always thought of his parents as a unit so it made sense that would be how he presented them to Tabitha.
How he knew they’d want to be remembered.
“They met in Algebra class,” he said, glad to have a place to begin.
Grateful for a chance to tell their story. To have a second chance and finally share it with Tabitha.
“Mom had just moved to town,” he continued, “and Dad took one look at her and fell hard.”
“High school sweethearts? That’s sweet. Your mom wasn’t from Mount Laurel originally?”
“Neither of them were. They met in Texas. Mom’s father was career Army, so she moved around a lot growing up. Dad was born there. But my grandmother was from outside of Altoona, and she would bring Mom up here to visit family and she loved it. She and Dad got married two months after their high school graduation, then moved here.”
“That’s young to get married.”
“It was. And they both admitted marrying that young wasn’t for everyone—and didn’t necessarily recommend it for any of their kids—but it worked for them. I think…” He trailed off, gathering his thoughts while he traced circles on the top of Tabitha’s foot with his fingertips. “I think they were both looking for something. Mom didn’t have a lot of stability growing up and was an only child. She always said the first thing that drew her to Dad was how steady he was. She knew he was someone she could put down roots and raise a family with.”
“And your father? What was he looking for?”
Thinking about how his father would look at his mother, like she was his sun, Miles absently rubbed his palm over the ache in his chest. Grinned, just a little, to realize there was plenty of sweetness in that pain.
“Her. He always said the first moment he saw he knew her she was the only one for him. They were fifteen when he took her out for ice cream for their first date. When he got home, he told his father he was going to marry her. I never understood that. How he just knew from one look that she was it for him. I didn’t understand,” he repeated, lifting her hand from her lap, then pressing a kiss to her palm. “Until the day I walked into a coffee shop in Oakland and saw you.”
Tabitha inhaled sharply, her fingers twitching against his jaw, and he realized he’d never told her that before. He’d prided himself on his honesty, his fucking integrity when they’d been together, but there was so much he’d kept from her.
“Miles…” She shook her head, her eyes clouded with doubt, her voice a whisper. “I don’t know what to say.”