Page 109 of Merry Mended Hearts

“Commitment?”

I pressed my fingers against the tines of my fork. “I just don’t get how he can be willing to give things a try with me one minute and then push me away the next. He has more emotional switchbacks than a mountain road.”

“I’m sorry, sweetie.”

Mom didn’t offer any helpful advice. But sometimes a listening ear was worth more than the greatest advice a person could give. That was all I needed.

I’d been carrying the weight of Boone’s whiplash emotions since Christmas. It felt so good to get everything off my chest again.Everythingthis time. Radio and all.

More than anything, Mom wasn’t calling me off or telling me to stop being ridiculous for believing a magical radio had taken issues into its own hands by pushing couples together.

Conversation shifted again and became easier between us. It felt like a boulder had been lifted from my chest. I had a much easier time engaging, listening as Mom talked about work, about missing Dad because he was gone so much.

I reached out a hand, taking hers in mine.

“I’m sorry I’ve been so selfish,” I said.

Mom had stayed away purposely to give me enough space to write. And even though she hadn’t said as much, I knew that had been hard for her, too.

“You’re not selfish,” Mom said. “I know your writing is important to you.”

It was, but I’d been so obsessed, so misguided. Wanting to hide from the pain of reality by focusing on the hardships of a fictional world. It made things that much worse because my character was literally based on Boone Harper, the very man I’d been trying to get over.

“My writing is important to me,” I said, lowering my hands to my lap beneath the table. “But it’s not more important than people. I forget that sometimes when I’m lost in one of my worlds. Sometimes, I emerge from a writing session, and I have to get a brand-new grasp on reality and remember other people exist.”

I chuckled, trying to lighten the confession.

Mom’s smile stretched. “Well, you come on over after work any time you want.”

That meant so much. More than I could say. It felt like I was a marshmallow being held over a fire, softening. I’d taken Mom for granted. I’d taken how much she cared about me for granted.

“You know, I never really told you how grateful I am for you and Dad.”

Mom waved a hand, but I hurried on.

“It’s true. When I was so crushed over Boone on Christmas Day, you have no idea how much it meant for me to know I had you. That I still had someone who loved me and would accept me no matter what.”

The corners near Mom’s eyes crinkled. “Of course. We love you, Grace.”

Emotion threatened not only my throat but my eyes this time. I zoned in on my sandwich’s empty foil in its plastic basket.

“And what about this man of yours? Boone. Where is his family?”

“He works at the inn with his aunt and cousin. He mentioned having a brother, but that’s all I know. I think his parents have both passed. His wife and baby died. He’s completely alone.”

Saying the words struck a lonesome chord inside of me.

Mom’s face mashed into a sincere, compassionate pout. “Oh, honey. The poor man.”

I read the sincerity in Mom’s eyes and nodded before speaking. “Yeah. He’s pretty reclusive as a result of it, I think.”

“I’m sure after being alone for so long, it can be hard to let people back in. Change is always hard,” Mom said.

“Yeah.” This conversation turned things in my mind all over again.

I hadn’t considered that aspect of it. Boone had Junie—but a cousin wasn’t quite the same as a mother and father. Or a spouse.

“It must have really rattled him to let me get even moderately close to him.”

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