Page 7 of Part of Me
“Wonderful,” my mother replies. Luke says that he will make me a green tea and then leaves the room to go to the kitchen. My mother takes her jacket off and places it on the end of the sofa. “So, how has your first weekend of living here been?”
“Uh, it’s been good,” I answer.
“Oh, great,” she replies, looking a little sad. Her usually bright brown eyes are dulled, and I feel myself soften as I know that my mother is already missing my presence at home.
“Mum,” I say as I go over and sit next to her.
“Yes, darling?”
“I’ve only been gone for two days.”
“I know. It’s just… the house feels strange without you already,” she answers, looking a little downcast. I smile at her and take her hand in mine. As I said before, I am very close to my parents, so I can only imagine what my mother is feeling right now.
“It’s strange for me too, but I haven’t gone far.”
“I know that too,” she says with a sigh. “And I am so happy for you. I just miss having you there to talk to, that’s all.” I feel my eyebrows knit together at her words.
“Is everything okay with Dad?” I ask, hoping that nothing has gone wrong.
“Yes, yes. Your father and I are fine,” she replies with a wave of her hand. “I guess I’m just used to having you there for a chat over morning coffee.”
“We can still do that you know,” I say as Luke comes back into the room with our drinks. I let go of my mother’s hand and she takes her drink from Luke. Luke places mine on the coffee table as he knows that I won’t drink mine until it has cooled down.
“I’m just feeling a little sentimental,” my mother replies as Luke takes a seat on the chair opposite us. “I walked into your bedroom this morning, and I guess that it hit me that you really have moved out.”
“Don’t tell me that you are missing her trail of mess already?” Luke says, sensing that the tone needs to be kept light. My mother laughs at him and I instantly feel grateful for his comment.
“Hey,” I say, eyeballing him from across the room. “I’m not that bad.”
“Oh please,” he says. “You have been here for two days and there are already clothes littering the bedroom floor.” He smiles so I know that his comments are only in jest. Well, they are for the moment anyway, but give it a few weeks and he might start to get pissed off with my messiness.
“That sounds about right,” my mother agrees with him.
“Where’s Dad when I need him?” I say, causing my mother and Luke to laugh. My dad is very much like me, so I know that he would have my back for this conversation.
“We’re only joking, darling,” my mother says. I look to Luke, and he winks at me, making my stomach do somersaults.
“Hmmmm,” I mumble with a smile.
We spend the next half an hour chatting with my mother and––I hope––easing her mind about me moving out. She leaves not long after and I promise to call her for lunch one day this coming week. She gives each of us a kiss on the cheek and then I see her out. I close the door behind her and lean back against it, closing my eyes. I love my mum to bits, but I don’t need the worry of her being sad at my moving out.
“You okay over there?” I hear Luke say from the end of the hallway. I open my eyes and look at him. He stands there, looking as gorgeous as ever. He is only wearing his jogging bottoms and a T-shirt, but to me, he has never looked better.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” I reply as I push off of the door and make my way over to him. “I could do with picking up where we left off earlier though,” I say with a wiggle of my eyebrows.
“Such a minx,” he says as he scoops me up and runs to the bedroom with me in his arms. I laugh as he throws me on the bed. My excitement is threatening to bubble over as Luke gets to work on showering me with kisses. I sigh with pleasure at the direction my life is going in. I may not have the job of my dreams, but I have a man that loves me, I have a family that adore me, and at this point in my life, I don’t feel like I need anything else.
Chapter Six
I sit at my reception desk on Monday morning and sip my cup of coffee. It is only half past ten and I have already had to deal with an irate model and a pissy fashion editor. I guess that being the receptionist they feel like they can take their frustrations out on me. Maggie, another receptionist, comes over and slumps into the chair beside me.
“You okay?” I ask her as I watch her place her head on the desk and close her eyes.
“Oh, just bloody peachy,” she answers sarcastically.
“What’s up?”
“Ugh. I don’t even know where to start,” she begins as she lifts her head up and swivels in her chair to face me. Maggie is one of those women that should have been a model themselves. She has a petite figure and legs that go on for days. She wears skinny jeans, a white shirt, black jacket and black stilettos. The woman just oozes class and I always feel slightly underdressed when I am near her.
