Page 83 of Yes No Maybe

Mom arrives at the little house Thursday before school starts, days before originally planned. She insisted on coming early after I unloaded everything that happened with Jack. She told me that I’d done the right thing, asking Jack for time, and that she was proud of me for being so vulnerable with him.“You can’t let things go without letting anyone in, Rowan. I love that you’re opening up to someone.”

Mira and I greet her in the driveway, and something is different about her. She’s tanner—yes, probably from spending her summer touring. Toner, perhaps, though she’s always been fit. But her laugh lines and crow’s feet no longer look hard-earned but friendlier. She wears lip gloss and a light summer dress, highlighting her shoulders and showing more skin than usual. Her softer look makes her seem gentler, too, like her rough edges have been filed away.

Her thin-lipped smile grows as she embraces us.

“How are my sweet girls?” Her pixie head rests between us.

“Good,” we say in unison, and Mira adds, “How are you, Christine? You look…reallygood.”

“She’s right, Mom. Are you doing something different?”

A mild chuckle escapes as she turns to Sara, standing awkwardly nearby. Mom grabs onto her as if they’ve already known each other for ages. Sara, amazingly, accepts the affection.

Rose and Vernon gently interrupt our sweet reunion, approaching cautiously from the street.

“We had to meet your mum in person, Rowan.”

“Thank you for your service.” Vernon shakes her hand and then salutes. “My father, God rest his soul, served for—”

“Vernon, no.” Rose takes Mom’s hand, holding it between hers. “We love Rowan. She’s a breath of fresh air. I hope you’re staying awhile.”

“A few weeks. Then, California before going overseas again for a consultancy. I’ll return for Thanksgiving and, hopefully, Christmas, as always.”

As they chat, Tom and Marcy peek out their front door like skittish meerkats, taking in the unusual activity. A moment later, they join our growing circle, introducing themselves, telling her how much they love me, and asking about her plans—as if they’re operating from the same script.

“Your neighbors are weird.” Mira grins at my side. “But I kinda love it.”

“Yeah, me, too. Mom seems different, right?”

“She looks… happy,” Mira says.

“Oh, you must meet Jack.” Sara bolts across his yard before I can stop her.

“Dean returns tomorrow?” Mom asks.

“That’s the plan,” I say with a noncommittal shrug.

She gives me a knowing look—I can’t make promises regarding Dean. I’ve reached out every day, but most texts go unanswered. He calls randomly, and it’s always the same—a quick report about him.

Sometimes, I wonder if he’s afraid to let me talk. The more I try, the quicker he is to end it.

“Won’t that be wonderful?” Marcy says. “Together at last.”

“Romance is in the air,” Rose coos.

“I’ll say,” Mom says, her blue eyes honing in on Jack as Sara drags him across the yard. He’s wearing khaki shorts, a black t-shirt that hugs him just the right way, no shoes, a pencil tucked in his ear, and more scruff on his face than usual. But his smile is warm and expansive as he beelines in her direction. They don’t shake hands but embrace like old friends. My chest tightens.

“Oh, my!” Rose giggles. “You really are a fan.”

Mom pulls away—a beaming grin still planted as she takes him in. “I am. I love his books, too.”

Rose looks as confused as everyone else, but Jack laughs. “I’m a fan, too.”

Their instant connection hits me strongly—with what, I’m unsure. Love and sadness, like one of his books.

The quiet girls’ night I planned disintegrates when Jack announces, “Dinner and drinks at my place?”

Everyone cheers—Mom the loudest.