Page 78 of One Touch

“Lathan, I’m here for you. Or at least that was my intention.”

“Bullshit. You only do things that benefit you.”

She sighed and stepped back, giving me space. “I’m sorry.”

I jolted at the words. It was akin to touching a live wire. My mother had never apologized before. “What?”

“It seems I made a grave error somewhere along the way, one where my son believed he was less important to me than my career. For that, I’m sorry.”

Blinking at her words, I surveyed her from head to toe. She had the same blonde hair, smoothed back at the nape of her head in perfection. She had the same blue eyes lined with kohl and mascara. Her lips were a dark red that matched her expensive dress. Everything about Evangeline Silver was perfect, from the thousand-dollar blowout to the airbrushed makeup, but there was a new softness around her eyes and mouth.

“I don’t understand.”

“I see that now, and I’m sorry.”

“You keep saying that, but it doesn’t make sense. I…”

“Lathan, you are my son, and I love you more than words can describe. After the divorce, I was a shell of myself. It’s not an excuse, but I clung to the idea of proving my worth. If I could become mayor, then I would be worthy. If I could be governor, then we wouldn’t have to worry. If I had become senator, it would’ve all been worth it. I can see that my ambition and need to forget made me blind to how it affected you. I believed I was protecting you, giving you a legacy you could be proud of, but it seems I missed the mark.”

I laughed dryly. “You think? Mom, this isn’t really the place to discuss all this. There’s… a lot going on right now.”

She stepped closer. “That much is clear. I’m just afraid if we don’t talk now, I’ll lose you forever.”

“That’s…” I couldn’t bring myself to finish the sentence. Everything felt too out of control.

“I went about this all the wrong way. The gala. It felt like I was losing you, and I wanted to support your boyfriend while showing you I was receptive to however you identified. I never meant to make you feel like you couldn’t talk to me about this stuff.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Fine.” My mother rolled her eyes and I was certain I was hallucinating. “Your ‘teammate’, but we both know that fight I walked in on was more than a teammate squabble.” She stepped closer. “Is everything okay?”

“I don’t know. I feel so lost and confused.”

“How about we skip the gala, have James take us to a hole-in-the-wall diner, and talk like we used to over milkshakes?”

I swallowed. Could it be that simple? Could Evangeline Silver actually turn off her campaign soapbox for one night and be my mom? “What will the press say when you don’t show up? It could be bad for the polls.”

“I’ll tell them I ate some bad clams. I know I haven’t been great at showing it, but I want to change that. Starting now. If you’ll let me.”

Part of me wanted to ignore the offer, shove my mom away, and wallow in my lonely and dark apartment. But Miller had changed me. He might be gone from my life soon, but he’d made me softer around the edges, and I knew I could no longer hide from attachments. As scary as it was to trust people, it was worth it. Starting with my mom seemed like a good first step.

“Okay.”

My mom smiled and wrapped her arm through mine. We walked out the double doors toward the back entrance, where James stood waiting.

“Mrs. Silver, Mr. Silver,” he greeted.

“Hello, James, darling. Lathan and I need the best burgers and shakes around. Do you know of a place?”

James blinked but jumped into action. “Of course, ma’am.” He opened the door, and I slid in first, followed by my mother. She typed something on her phone before turning it off and sliding it back into a small purse.

It was quiet as we rode to the diner, both of us silently agreeing to wait until we were there to talk. The complete one-eighty of the night made me dizzy as if I’d just been smashed into the boards by a two-hundred-pound defender. At this point, I needed to simply ride it out and see where it took me. Nothing had gone as planned, so maybe a detour was what I needed.

The car came to a stop but it was a few minutes before our door was opened. It didn’t surprise me that the diner was empty except for the few staff loitering inside. My mother could pretend this was like when I was younger, but the logistics of a senator dining out required a lot more forethought. The man in a black suit and earpiece at the door said it all. Regardless, I’d take the private space and pretend like it hadn’t been cleared just so we could have a mother-and-son moment.

We took the farthest booth from the window, ensuring no one could snap a photo if they managed to make it past the bodyguard wall. I had to give credit to my mother where it was due; she was attempting to make this as normal as possible, given our occupations. The length she’d gone to in the amount of time given softened me, and I dropped the barrier I’d kept up. She wasn’t making this into a publicity stunt. I could give her the chance to be my mom without all my asshole snarkiness.

The waitress handed us menus, eyeing us like she wanted to ask questions, but ultimately decided whatever my mom was paying her to keep quiet wasn’t worth her curiosity. Once our orders were placed, we stared at one another for a few seconds, weighing where to start. Or at least I was.

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