Page 23 of Wasted On You

The kid paused, head turned to the side, giving up his profile and not much else. “Walked into a door.”

More like someone’s fist.

“Your dad still drinking?”

“What do you care?” Jacob’s shoulders were hunched, his hands clenched at his side. “I got into a fight at school, okay? No big deal.”

Mike Paul considered his next words carefully.

“If you ever need to talk or a place to stay, call me. I don’t care what time of day or night. You got that?”

A few seconds passed, and then the teenager headed outside. With a sigh, Mike Paul did a final round of the animals and then closed up. A minute later, he was inside the house, Weiner and Bun jumping at his knees.

He doffed his jacket. “Calm down, boys.”

“They’ve got more energy than they need.” Melody Darlington was seated on the big leather chair off to the side of the fireplace. Tanned from spending the last two months in sunny Florida and fit from playing pickleball, her new passion, she looked rested and healthy. Her hair was cut to just above her shoulders; the natural silver color shot through with blond.

She set down her teacup and crossed the room, a soft smile on her face.

“I’ve missed you, my boy.” Melody stood back, her face alight with the kind of love only a mother could have.

He dropped a kiss to her cheek. “You’re back early. Wasn’t expecting you for another week or so.”

“The weather wasn’t looking great for the drive back later this month, so we decided to leave when the getting was good. And besides, I couldn’t wait to meet my new grandchild.”

He didn’t believe her one bit. They’d face timed throughout Cobi’s labor and delivery and afterward. Not once had his parents said they’d come home early.

But Mike Paul also wasn’t in the mood to dig into the real reason. He moved into the kitchen and rooted through the fridge while his mother propped herself up at the island. His dogs waited patiently at his feet and when they were rewarded with strips of cured back bacon, the furballs retreated to their beds in the living room and got down to business.

“Not the healthiest of treats,” his mom murmured, eyes on the dogs as they gnawed at the dried meat.

“Everyone deserves a Big Mac now and again.”

“I suppose they do.” His mom looked him square in the eye and he knew there was no escape.

“Cobi told you about the Sundowner.” Damn his sister and her big mouth.

“No,” Melody replied, sitting straight and prim. “Paula Atkins did.”

Mike Paul took a moment to exhale and roll his eyes. Paula Atkins was the secretary at his mother’s church, and she was also Arlene’s sister.

“You came all this way because Paula Atkins told you I got drunk last Saturday and hit a wall at the Sundowner?”

“No,” she responded softly, sitting forward, her expression about as serious as it could get. “I came home because my boy has made the mistake of falling in love with the right woman at the wrong time.”

“I…” He swore and looked away because there was no point in denying her words. “I’ll be okay.”

Melody Darlington got to her feet and rounded the kitchen island. She was silent for a few moments, as if considering what next to say, and then she made a soft sound, like a puff of air expelled.

“You spent most of your twenties enjoying life the way men do. I swear to God, I don’t know how many women have followed me around the grocery store or the pharmacy, trying to strike up a conversation. Trying to get to you through me. Goodness, even Angela, the woman who did my mammogram last year, asked me to put in a good word for her.”

Angela? He didn’t remember an Angela.

“They all were trying to make themselves something they weren’t.”

“What’s that?” He was almost afraid to ask.

“Someone you could love. Someone worth more than the nights you spent with them.”

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