Page 34 of Lines We Cross
I couldn’t be eighty years old and still be playing professional baseball. I had to quit at some point, so why not now when I could take advantage of no one having swept Rae off her feet yet? The injury had been a gift. And this was my moment.
After our breakfast together, I’d spent the last few days planning and strategizing. I had a family dinner scheduled tonight and then it would be a full-court press to woo my woman. The door to my childhood home swung open, my stylish mother standing there with a towel in her hand and a frown on her face.
“Why did you knock?”
I lifted a shoulder. “I don’t live here. You and Dad could have been in a compromising position and I would have been blinded for life. You always taught me to think safety.”
Mom grabbed my arm and pulled me in the house, slamming the door behind me.
“No, I didn’t. I taught you that we’re a family and families don’t knock. So quit that crap.” She reached up to brush something off my shirt and then patted my cheek with her soft hands. She still smelled like lemon. Always had and I hoped she always would.
“You look good, my boy. Come into the living room and tell me what you’ve been up to. How’s the house? How’s the knee? Are you staying in Nickel Bay full-time?”
I chuckled, but followed her into the living room to sit on one of the two couches. They both were death traps. The minute you sat down, they sucked you in and good luck ever getting out.
“Jeez, Mom, give me a chance to get comfortable before we start the twenty questions. And where’s Dad?” I flopped down and let the cushions envelop me.
Mom fluttered her hand somewhere in the direction of their bedroom. “I told him he had to change.”
I frowned. Usually Dad dressed smartly, leaning toward the too formal end of the spectrum.
“He had on that maroon sweater he keeps wearing even though it has several holes in the elbows. I tried to throw it away last week, but he dug it out of the trash.” Mom’s mouth was turned down at the corners, disdain alive and well in her eyes.
“It’s just dinner, Mom. I’m sure the sweater would have been fine.”
The doorbell rang and Mom leapt up off the couch surprisingly fast for someone her age.
“Are you expecting someone?” I called out to her retreating back. She ignored me.
“Skylar! So lovely to see you, dear.”
I jumped up and couldn’t contain the smile that split my face. Rae? Here? It was unexpected, but great, nonetheless.
I followed the sound of female voices and saw Mom pulling Rae in for another hug. Skylar was laughing, but she looked a little overwhelmed by the force that was my mother.
“Come on, Mom. Let her go already.” I gently pulled Mom away and grabbed Rae into my own hug. She fit perfectly below my chin, her face nestled against my chest like she was made to be in my arms.
“Hello, gorgeous. This is a surprise,” I whispered.
She tilted her face up and smiled, her face a touch of pink right along her cheekbones. I didn’t release her and she didn’t pull away, seeming content to stay right where she was. The wooing was coming along nicely.
“Ooh, look at you two.” Mom’s voice cut in on our moment.
I dragged my gaze away from Rae and saw Mom with her hands clasped and wedding ideas running through her head at lightning speed. I rolled my eyes and reluctantly let Rae go.
“Thanks for the setup, but we beat you to it.”
Mom was known for setting up people who had no interest in being set up. She had a handful of successful matches in her thirty years of matchmaking which only fueled the misplaced confidence that she had the magic touch.
She frowned. “Yes, I know. You ruined my plans by going and having breakfast together the other day. But mark my words. If this thing works out, we’re chalking it up to my matchmaking. We clear?”
We both nodded, though I could tell Rae was trying desperately not to laugh out loud. She was used to my mom, thank goodness. This little eccentricity about pairing up couples wouldn’t push Rae away.
I hoped.
“I miss seeing Ryker around. How’s life in Regora?” Rae expertly maneuvered the conversation away from our likelihood of dating.
Mom put her arm around Rae and led her into the kitchen talking a mile a minute. Dad came through the living room and clapped me on the back, shaking his head of salt-and-pepper gray hair.
