Page 47 of Drifting Hearts
I didn’t need to figure anything out today, though. That was a job for tomorrow me. Today me could ignore the future and exist in a happy little sex bubble with Kieran.
Chapter 24
Kieran
Mom didn’t say anythingwhen I brought Clay back later that day. And she wouldn’t. Not to me and definitely not to Shane. The trick to having grown kids, she’d told me once a long time ago, was not to meddle in their little spats and rivalries. If I wanted advice about Clay, or to know what she thought Shane might think, I could ask her. But unless she saw catastrophe on the horizon, it wasn’t her style to say anything.
She did however, wait until Clay had ducked into the bathroom to give me a pointed look. “He’s a good boy, Kieran.”
She reached out and nudged the plate of cookies closer. Her comment felt like approval.
“I know, Mom.”
“He’s had his share of troubles. Don’t add to them.”
“I would never.” I reached for a snickerdoodle from the plate and hummed my appreciation as I bit into one. They weren’t just Clay’s favorite. I still held the belief that Mom judged people based on what their favorite cookies were. Even if she’d never admit it.
“You would never mean to, I know.”
I stuffed the rest of the cookie in my mouth so I didn’t say something stupid. Sitting at the table with Mom with a plate of cookies between us had always felt like a confessional. It was hard, even now,not to pour my guts out to her. Perhaps she knew this the way she knew that snickerdoodles were my favorite.
It had been her trick since my brothers and I were small. Sit us down in the kitchen with a plate of cookies and wait patiently for our questions or our conscience to get the best of us. My brothers and I had once called it the cookie confessional. The memory made me smile.
“Care to share?” Mom asked, reaching for a cookie of her own.
Clay returned from the bathroom and I told them both about the cookie confessional. Mom laughed, but there was a knowing glint in her eyes, as though this wasn’t the first she’d heard of it. Clay nodded and took a cookie.
“It’s fitting,” he said. I got the impression that he’d been a victim of the cookie confessional during his stay.
“She got you too, huh?” I asked, resisting the temptation to reach for another snickerdoodle. I’d inhale half the plate if I wasn’t careful.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Clay feigned ignorance and Mom steered the conversation away from her interrogation techniques.
“What time do you get your cast off tomorrow?” Mom asked.
“The appointment is at ten, and then I see my physical therapist after lunch.”
“When I got my cast off, Mom made all my favorite foods, so if you have anything special you’d like to eat, now’s the time to mention it.”
“I’ll have you know that I already have that in hand.” Mom rolled her eyes at me. “Honestly, Kieran, you should know me better than that. But I think I went a bit overboard, so you should definitely stay for dinner tomorrow.”
Mom’s dinner invitation wrapped around me like acceptance. Like she understood my feelings for Clay, even though I’d been careful tokeep them under wraps. It gave me hope that if and when push came to shove, that she’d have my back against Shane.
“I wouldn’t miss it.” I told them both.
Mom gave me an approving nod then excused herself from the table. She’d been a faithful soap opera fan for as long as I could remember. Even when her house was packed, she still managed to carve out an hour a day for her stories. There were times she resorted to recording them and watching them later when she got a chance.
“So tomorrow…” Clay started to say something, then trailed off.
I knew the day had been weighing on him. I wanted to make his day easier. Over the past few weeks, Clay had opened up to me a lot more about how nervous he was to have the cast taken off and what it might mean for his future. I couldn’t help the outcome tomorrow, but maybe I could distract him.
“You could always come back to my place. Grab a change of clothes. I’ve taken the day off anyway. We can get your cast taken care of and then I’ll take you to lunch before your physical therapy appointment.”
Clay hesitated for a bit too long, and I knew he was going to turn me down before he said anything.
“I think I need a night to myself,” Clay told me, guilt seeping into his expression.
“It’s okay, Clay. It was a whim; don’t feel bad about it.” It stung a little that he wanted space, but I didn’t let on. Everyone coped with things in their own way.
