Page 96 of The Arrangement
Mom’s name’s on the screen, and given she’s the only person I’d call back right now, I press her name and listen to it ring.
“Hey, Jason.” I can hear her smile through the line. “How are you?”
“Good. Getting our stuff packed to head home. Thank you for the flowers for Chloe, by the way. They’re going to be a pain in the ass to get back to Tennessee.”
“I’m sure you can handle it.”
“I’m sure I can, too,” I say, grinning. “What’s going on?”
“Well, I was in Savannah a couple of weeks ago and had dinner with Rodney and Siggy Mason. A few of their friends joined us at this fabulous restaurant. You should take Chloethere the next time you’re down that way.Anyway,” she says, earning an eye roll from me, “I met a man.”
Whoa.
I recoil from those three little words. “You met a man?”
“I know it’s sudden and?—”
“Mother.”
She hesitates. “Yes?”
“I think that’s great.” I laugh softly. “I mean, get Ford to run a background report on him, and send me his name so I can look him up.”
“You are not parenting me, Jason Brewer.”
I grin. “No, you’re right. I’m not. I’m using my specific skill set and the avenues available to me to ensure you won’t be taken advantage of.”
“Hold up, child. I might need to be taken advantage of. It’s been a while.”
My jaw drops. It lowers even farther as my mother, one of the most prim and proper women I’ve ever known, finds humor in this situation.
“Who have you been hanging around with?” I ask, chuckling.
“Foxx’s parents, actually.” Her laugh is loud and free. For the first time in my adult life, she sounds happy. “Damaris and Kixx Carmichael are hilarious—and dirty. You should hear them. It’s no wonder their children are all little firecrackers. They come by it honestly.”
I know Foxx’s family, and she’s right. The Carmichaels are as lively as they are good people. I just didn’t expect my mother to fall into their shenanigans.
Oh, how things change. Or, maybe this is who she really is.After all, none of her children could be called shy and withdrawn. Maybe she’s only just finding her true self.
I can only respect this resilient woman.
“So who is this man?” I ask.
“His name is Joseph Dallo. His daughter is married to—well, a guy who works for Ford Landry, actually.”
“Troy Castelli?”
“Yes. That’s him. The dark complected one that—you know what? Let’s move on.”
I look at the ceiling. “Yes. Let’s.”
“Anyway, Joseph was in town to see his daughter and we hit it off. I’ve seen him a couple of times since. I haven’t found the courage to tell you, but I figured you should be on a honeymoon high this morning. So I took my chances.”
I grin at her light and airy tone. She’s come a long way in the past few months. And, even if what happened to her was one of the worst things I could imagine, I’m starting to think it’s for the best. Because even if this helps her separate from my father, something I don’t think she would’ve done had he not gone off the rails, it’s also given her life back.
This Rory Brewer would not be here had she not experienced everything she has lately.
In a way, I’m grateful for it all—and that’s an uncomfortable feeling to wrestle with.
