Page 10 of The One Who Got Away
How had I not seen how unhappy they were?
With a buried sigh, I hurried into the galley kitchen of our town house. I grabbed the bottle of wine she was taking with her to the bookstore as well as the little soft-sided cooler I’d brought home from work with the finger sandwiches I’d made for her meeting.
Part of me wished that I had the house to myself, but the other was excited to have Gus back in my life. Even if it was just another trip into the way back machine.
I tucked the bottle into the oversized tote that included the spicy romance book the group was reading.
The fact that my mother was reading fairy smut was surprising enough. Doing it with a group of like-minded ladies was a whole other level.
I brought the tote and cooler out with me. “I made you some vegetarian as well as meat sandwiches.”
“Oh, you didn’t have to do that.” Her fingers were fluttering again.
“Jessie and I had a blast figuring out how to make an honest to God finger sandwich. Let me know how the ladies like them.”
The uncertainty in her bluebell eyes hit me again. I tucked her hair behind her ear. I got my wild red hair from my mother. Hers was a short halo of curls that reminded me of Annie. But it was just as soft as I remembered. And her lily of the valley scent washed over me.
I pulled her in for an impulsive hug. “You’re doing so great, Mom. I’m proud of you for going out there when I know you don’t want to.”
She sagged against me and clung. “I don’t feel great. Maybe I should stay home.”
“Nope.” I pushed her back giving her a big smile. “You’re going to go and talk about the big winged dude in that book until the whole room is blushing and buzzing.”
She frowned. “How do you know? Do you want to join the group? I’d just?—”
“Nope this is your thing. I’ve just been on social media enough to hear people talking about it, that’s all.”
“You’re sure?”
“I am. I’m going to catch up with Gus and we’re going to watch terrible movies.”
“I like terrible movies.”
I stamped down the impatience. I had to remind myself she was just so uncertain and needed reassurance. “I promise we’ll watch some of our old favorites this weekend.”
She nodded, her big blue eyes swimming. “Okay.”
“You’ll have a great time. I promise. And if you drink too much wine just text me and I’ll pick you up, no questions asked.”
She gave me a watery laugh at the deal we’d made when I was a teenager. “Okay.”
I walked her to the door and down the drive to her car parked behind mine. I stowed her bags and gave her a hug then firmly steered her into the driver’s side. I waved to her and waited for the car to clear the cul-de-sac before tipping my head back with a relieved sigh.
My dad was a bastard for doing this to her.
I knew he’d been a little emotionally absent as of late. I just figured it was how things worked with a marriage with over thirty-three years in the rearview. My mother had always beenthe involved one. She was at every game, every musical in my theater phase, every awards night that I’d ever had in school.
Being valedictorian meant that I’d joined every damn thing to get the best chance of a scholarship.
And I’d gotten one.
Northeastern had given me a half ride, which meant I still had loans up to my eyeballs, but I’d made it. I’d reached every goal I’d set for myself in school and still, I was back here.
I bowed my head.
She’d supported me every step of the way, it was only right for me to do the same.
My feet dragged on the way back into the townhouse I’d grown up in. The stoop was the same with the half barrels full of mums in a cheerful deep burgundy and happy yellow. A semi-circle of gourdes and pumpkins filled the corner with a vertical Happy Autumn sign tipped against the siding.
