Page 58 of State of Grace

“I spent most of my life being told you didn’t love me. Why would I have gone looking for you? I figured if you ever wanted to know who I was, then it would be easier for you to find me than the other way around.”

“Oh, for god’s sake, Blake, I was giving you space!”

“I didn’t need space; I needed my mom!”

Blake’s chest heaved as she stubbornly held the tears at bay. She refused to let them fall; refused to give Isla the satisfaction of seeing that her words had struck a chord. Not willing to spend another minute in the conversation, Blake turned her back on Isla and stormed up the stairs to her apartment.

She was pissed at herself for showing her hand to Isla. In the twenty-something years she’d been separated from her mother, Blake had never told anyone that she needed her mom. In fact, Blake had prided herself on the fact she brushed off every comment and question about her mother with a nonchalant shrug and sarcastic laugh. But now Isla knew. Isla knew how badly Blake had wanted – needed – her in her life.

And Blake didn’t know how she felt about that. She and Isla hadn’t talked about Blake’s abandonment issues, mainly because Blake had tried to avoid any one-on-one time with Isla since their conversation at the café her first weekend in town. Blake had hated herself for assuming that her father’s side of the story was the accurate one simply because it was the one she had grown up knowing.

Deciding a hot bath was exactly what she needed, Blake cranked up her 80s music playlist on her phone as she grabbed the iPad to look over the script Salem had sent her. Blake begged her body to decompress as she filled the tub with water. She needed a drink, and Blake knew precisely where she would go later to get away from Isla. Even if Isla were to go back to the bar, Blake didn’t care.

The chance of seeing Alexis outweighed anything else.

Chapter 20

Only a few stragglers were left in Straight to Ale as Alexis slid a glass of water in front of Blake. She’d been sitting at the corner barstool for nearly two hours and had drank everything the bartenders put in front of her. Alexis had stopped trying to keep up with her tab and instead focused only on making sure no one else saw the sci-fi TV star hammered at her mother’s bar.

Of course, Blake had offered no explanation as to why she was there other than mumbling something about not wanting to deal with Isla. The only thing she’d asked was if her change in mood had anything to do with their afternoon together, and Blake had answered her with a wink and a smile that melted Alexis’s heart. They’d talk about it later, Alexis was sure, but in the meantime, she’d focus on keeping Blake as sober as she could.

“This doesn’t taste like liquor.” Blake wrinkled her nose as she pushed the glass away.

“That’s because it’s water.” Alexis put a hand on her hip and gave Blake her best Mom Look. It worked on Harper every single time, and judging by Blake’s slight shift in body language, it worked on her too. “Drink up. And here,” she put a basket of crackers in front of her, “eat some of these. It’ll help soak up the liquor.”

“Pancakes.”

“Excuse me?”

“Pancakes are my hangover food.” Blake gave her the sweet, innocent smile that did something to Alexis that she didn’t want to acknowledge. She looked less like the brave woman Alexis had seen on TV for years and more like the child she’d imagined Blake to have been.

“I’m not making you pancakes.”

“Please?” Blake batted her eyes at her, and for a split second, Alexis contemplated attempting to make pancakes in a restaurant kitchen that didn’t serve any breakfast foods.

“How about you go home and make pancakes there. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

“I can’t go back there.”

Alexis knew better than to engage with someone about their feelings when they were drunk. She knew that asking Blake what she meant would mean Blake would word vomit, and Alexis would be stuck listening to whatever story would flow out of her gorgeous mouth. Not that Alexis would mind; she’d listen to Blake read the ingredients of the Froot Loop box if that was an option. But with closing time around the corner, Alexis knew she needed to finish cleaning up the bar. She picked up a wet cloth and scrubbed down the bar beside Blake.

“Aren’t you going to ask me why?”

“Oh, I have a feeling you’ll tell me either way.” Alexis tossed the cloth back into the bucket of soapy water and crossed her arms over her stomach. Cleaning the bar was clearly going to have to wait.

“Her life is so,” Blake tapped her finger against her temple a few times, “perfect.”

“Who’s life?”

“Isla’s.” A sarcastic laugh came from Blake. “Mom’s.”

“Ahh.”

Alexis suspected something had happened between Blake and Vera or Blake and Isla, but it wasn’t something she was going to press. She wasn’t someone who liked it when people pressed her to talk, and she hated doing it to other people. Instead, Alexis prided herself on her listening ear, which was clearly what Blake needed tonight.

“I don’t know why I came here.”

“To drink like a fish, apparently.”

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