Page 61 of Wedding Season
“One hundred percent,” she agreed, “but Heather makes the rules.”
“You really have changed,” he said and for just a moment, he placed his hand on her back. The touch was both comforting and made her heartbeat pick up speed.
She didn’t remember ever caring about somebody’s opinion the way she did about the way Alex saw her.
Could she live up to his positive opinion? Debatable, but she was learning to take things on faith no matter how foreign a concept that was.
“How’s the arm?” she asked Heather as she climbed into the front seat.
“I know you were talking about me.”
A weight settled in Mariella’s heart as she heard the doubt in Heather’s tone.
“If you don’t want me here, you guys can just drop me off at my house. I’m just a little sick of sitting at home by myself. I can’t do anything fun with this stupid cast on.”
“You bet I want you here.” Mariella turned around in her seat to look at the girl as Alex pulled away from the curb. “I bet I can’t out-fish Alex, but you’re one-handed so I can for sure take you on.”
Alex snorted out a laugh. “You know that everything doesn’t have to be a competition.”
“I can catch more than you one-handed,” Heather said. “My dad used to take me fishing all the time.”
Mariella smiled. She wondered if the girl thought the mention of her parents would bother her birth mom.
The opposite was true at the moment. Mariella appreciated the reminders that her daughter had been raised by loving people. She certainly understood that a girl’s relationship with her father was a huge influence on her life.
Mariella hadn’t known her dad. Maybe if she had she wouldn’t have felt like she needed to earn the attention of random boys in the neighborhood when she hit puberty. Maybe she actually would have had some self-respect. Maybe Heather would have never been born.
Her stomach clenched even considering that possibility. There was the reason Mariella didn’t put too much stock in regret.
It was like the butterfly effect. Small things that can change a complex system. She could go back and change the past but if she did, where would it leave her present and potentially her future?
Still, she felt fully alive with both Alex and Heather. “Want to wager on the fishing?”
“Seriously?” Alex asked.
“Whoever catches the least has to be in charge of the porta-potties the entire weekend of the festival.” Mariella looked into the back seat via the passenger side mirror.
Heather didn’t notice her watching, but a small smile played at the corners of the girl’s mouth.
“That’s brutal,” Alex said, glancing in her direction. He flipped a look at Heather in the rearview mirror. “Don’t fall for it, kid. You’ve got a great excuse with that arm to get out of whatever nasty volunteer assignment you don’t want to take on. I would think poo duty would top the list.”
“He’s right,” Mariella agreed. “If you want to play the poor, injured flower card.”
Alex shook his head. “She’s baiting you,” he warned Heather. “Which is not maternal or mature,” he reminded Mariella.
“I don’t need to play any card,” Heather told him. “I can win on my own as long as we’re talking about fish and not catching a hangover or potential disease picked up from a random guy in a bar.”
“Whoa,” Alex murmured, but Heather wasn’t finished.
“I heard those were somebody’s favorite pastimes back in New York City.”
It said something about Mariella that she liked her daughter best of all when she was throwing well-deserved barbs.
What Heather didn’t understand was there was nothing she could say to Mariella, no harsh aside or sarcastic comment that could compare to the relentless internal dialogue of judgment Mariella dished out to herself on a daily basis.
“You’ve been reading too many of the comments on my social media pages. I’m glad for it, though.” She looked over her shoulder and nodded at Heather, whose face had gone beet red.
The girl wasn’t quite the master grief-giver she fancied herself to be. She didn’t have the cutthroat drive for it. Another point in the nurture versus nature column.
