Page 76 of Back in the Saddle

She stroked my hand. “It’s always hard to admit your parents are getting older and reaching the end of their life.”

Was she sick or something? Is that why she was different? More loving, like a mother should be.

“Are you sick, Mamo?” Callum asked.

“No. No. Don’t be silly.” Her laughter was a trill. “While I’m here, I’ll need to teach you and Isabelle some Irish cooking so you can spoil your dad, seeing your mum doesn’t cook.”

The remainder of dinner was the same, with Mam filling in awkward silences. When we finished, Taylor collected the plates. I got up to help.

“I’m good.”

The kids kissed Mam good night and went to their rooms. I took Mam home. When I got back, Taylor had finished tidying and was doing the dishes. I needed to talk to her about being late. We couldn’t move forward with no communication.

I stood on the other side of the bench. “The kids and I were disappointed that you came home late tonight.”

She scrubbed the pot I’d forgotten to soak. Her jaw clenched.

“Taylor?”

She glared at me. “Sorry for being late for the Mary show.”

She finished the pot and practically threw it into the dish rack.

“What are you talking about?”

She scoffed. “Nothing, Ciaron.”

I clutched the back of the stool. I couldn’t believe she was jealous of my mother, who I hadn’t seen in years. Was it because we were getting on much better now? I thought she’d be happy for me. Why did she think she could change but Mam couldn’t?

“I’m sorry for enjoying my mother’s company.”

“You’re so fucking blind.” She huffed and threw the dishcloth in the sink. “I’ll put the dishes away in the morning.”

She stormed off to our room. She wasn’t going to walk away from me this time. Or get away with not giving me honest answers. I matched her stride and grabbed her arm. She wrenched her arm away and whirled on me with a sneer.

“You were late after meeting with the owner too,” I said.

“Keeping count, are you? Or is your mother doing that for you?”

“What is your problem with my mother?”

“I’ve got the problem? Not her? Fucking typical.”

“What are you talking about?”

“She has done nothing but try to break us up from the moment we met. But you’re so fucking busy trying to get her approval that you can’t even see it.”

My stomach clenched. She was delusional.

Her eyes were wide, wild. “I loveyou. Not everything you do for me. Can you say the same about her?”

Of course I could. She’d changed, hadn’t she? Hadn’t she?

Taylor’s face was red and contorted. “She treats me like fucking shit, and you never speak up.”

“What’s there to speak up about?”

She threw her hands up in the air. “Nothing. She loves you. She’s a fantastic mother.”

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