Page 65 of When We Are Falling

“Hey, Mama Charlotte.”

Mom straightens, staring at me. We lock eyes across the room.

I hold the phone closer, hating the spike of anxiety lancing through me. “How are you? Do you want to talk to Mom? She’s right here.”

There’s a pause. “Actually, I don’t have much time. I just called to say hi to you and see how things are going.”

I glance at Mom, who’s looking at me with a hopeful expression. A small shake of my head that hurts me just as much as Mom—I can barely handle the look on her face when she realizes Mama Charlotte doesn’t want to speak to her.

“Oh, okay,” I say into the phone, trying to keep my voice steady. “Well, things are fine. We’re just about to have dinner.”

Mom turns away, staring at the woven placemats the two of them bought on vacation in Honolulu a couple of years ago, her finger teasing the rough edge. I want to ask Mama Charlotte so many things—what’s going on, if she’s still seeing that other woman, when she’s coming back, why she won’t talk to Mom—but I’m scared to rock the boat and drive her further away.

“Look I should go. I have something on the stove.”

A heavy pause, bulging with all the things we don’t say. “Okay. Call me when you have more time. I’m thinking of you.”

“Yeah, we miss you, too,” I reply, the words feeling hollow. “I’ll try to get hold of you tomorrow.”

“Okay, sweetheart. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

I hang up, a solid, choking lump in my throat, and turn to Mom, who’s busying herself with the cutlery, pretending she’s fine. I walk over and wrap my arms around her, holding her tight. She leans into the hug, and we stand there for a moment, both full of unspoken questions and worries.

“How’s the risotto coming along?” Mom asks, her voice a little shaky.

“It’s almost ready.” I pull back, giving her a reassuring smile. “I hope you’re hungry.”

Someone knocks on the door, and I glance at my watch. It has to be Ethan, and I hurry to let him in. He stands there on the porch in the dusk light looking impossibly handsome, wearing a button-down shirt and jeans, holding a bottle of red wine. His dark curly hair is still a little wet from the shower and the strong line of his jaw is freshly shaven.

As soon as he steps through the door and sees we’re alone, he pulls me into an intense kiss. His lips are warm and demanding, sending a thrill through my entire body. I lose myself in the moment, my fingers tangling in his hair, before finally pulling back to catch my breath.

“Come on,” I say, leading him into the kitchen. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

He grabs my hand, holding me in place, an urgent look entering his gaze. “Have you heard from David?”

“No, nothing.”

He looks a little relieved and gives me a nod, finally releasing my hand.

Mom looks up from the stove when we walk into the kitchen. She’s stirring the pot of risotto, and her face brightens whenshe sees Ethan. “So glad you could make it tonight. Blake’s been slaving over this meal for the better part of an hour. I think it’s the longest she’s ever spent in the kitchen!” She winks at me.

“Good to see you too, Mrs. Summerton,” Ethan replies, kissing her on the cheek and giving her the wine. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No, I think Blake’s got it under control. Why don’t you sit down while we plate everything up? ”

“The kitchen smells amazing.” Ethan glances at me as he sits and deliberately folds his hands in his lap, holding my gaze as if to say,see—I don’t always take over. He smirks as I roll my eyes.

The garlic bread comes out of the oven and I spoon the risotto onto plates, before grating some parmesan cheese and adding chopped flat-leaf parsley, feeling proud. Soon the plates are on the table, and Mom pours the wine, and we’re eating and drinking like Mama Charlotte never even called at all.

Mom looks at Ethan. “How was your week?”

He leans back in his chair, looking relaxed and happy to be here. “Pretty good, thanks. It’s a relief that most of the clean up is done.”

“I bet. It’s been a long couple of months.”

“It hasn’t been all bad. We had a great team. And you should have seen some of the guys on the beach—they’ve been a riot.”

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