Page 39 of Clean Sweep
“Your Mom pressure you?”
“Nah, she’s cool about it.”
“Your Dad?”
“Not directly, but he wanted me to be more successful than him.”
“Well, I’m always here if you need it. You know that, right?”
He laughed. “Coach, you never change. I’ve got your number now, so you can’t get rid of me.”
“Wouldn’t ever think of it. Hey, I liked Starla, by the way.”
A moony tone overtook him. “Oh, man. Starla. She’s . . . she’s the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me. I’m so glad you got to meet her, but she’s not always like that. She was just terrified to meet my mom.”
I rolled my eyes. All of us were Superman until we met our kryptonite, then we became ridiculous puddles that can’t hold ourselves together.
“Your Mom isn’t so scary.”
“I know that and you know that, but Starla didn’t. She’s cool about her now. She hopes to see Mom again soon.”
“Well, you’re a lucky dog to get someone like Starla.”
He laughed again. “I know it.”
Then I threw out the question I’d wanted to ask all along. “So, when is the big day?”
“Coming up really fast. Probably Valentine’s, but we’re just figuring a few things out. Could be sooner. We’ll let you know when we have a firm date. Probably won’t be a big deal, or anything like that.”
This time, my concern became real. Landon had never been aplay it easykind of guy. No, I’d always imagined his wedding being one that blew out speakers and invited everyone and created a reputation for itself.
“Sounds good. I’m here if you need it.”
After a few more comments, the conversation ended. I tossed my phone on the seat next to me and stared out the windshield. Leslie would find some relief over my conversation, but we really hadn’t gotten to the core of anything. Landon hovered me at 20,000 feet. Enough for details, but nothing I could rely on.
Really, it wasn’t my place anyway.
I turned the key in the ignition as the car chugged to life. No further answers with Landon, but somehow I felt better about the situation.
Whatever he had going on in the background didn’t sound bad. It sounded . . . uncertain. I couldn’t exactly tell Landon to call his mother. Leslie and I didn’t have that kind of relationship and I didn’t want to make any illusion that we did.
Still, I couldn’t help but wonder what I should say to her now.
Because the fact that I wanted to help her fix her broken things—and see her again—was growing more and more problematic.
9
LESLIE
Maverick frowned at the box I dropped onto the table at the Frolicking Moose. His dark brows pulled together in deep grooves. Then his honey-colored eyes darted up to me.
“Are those decorations for the reunion?”
“No, Conan,” I muttered, “they’re for the coffee shop. We’re going to put them up after the party.”
He let out a long breath, closed his eyes, then fluttered them back open. With feeling he said, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be condescending or controlling. Bethany is just a few months away from delivery, my siblings are coming here in a few short weeks, and I think it was a terrible idea to do a family reunion right now.”
My lips twitched. Although I wanted to laugh, I held it back. Real stress filled Maverick’s tone. For such a big bear of a man, when it came to Bethany, he had an anxiety tolerance of almost zero. His endearing fear for his wife warmed my still-divorce-chilly heart.
