Page 25 of Let Me Love You
Chapter Six
Having lived the last four years in Gainesville with a considerable drive to get to the coast, Ren gained a new appreciation for where he had been raised. He could jump in his Jeep and drive less than two minutes before the salty air tickled his nostrils, part of the privilege of living in a neighborhood simply a few turns from the Gulf of Mexico.
He’d spent the better part of Monday at the beach. He hung out around the lifeguard station with a few old high school buddies. They’d chatted about old memories, laughing until their bellies hurt.
Now, his skin prickled from the sun. He should have slathered on that second coat of sunscreen. The sun always seemed stronger at the beach reflecting off the water, but every time he remembered, he got sidetracked by another conversation. He’d pay for that now.
He’d showered and dressed, trying not to let his anxiety get the best of him. He’d checked the front windows more times than he cared to count to see if Stacey’s BMW had pulled into the driveway yet. Then he considered calling her to see what time he could expect her home, but he didn’t want to give her a reason to stay another night in Sarasota.
Would she think he’d become obsessive if he called or texted her again? He couldn’t risk it even if he did feel obsessive, out of his element, and out of control.
If he didn’t see her soon, he’d lose his mind. He’d given her a lot to think about. But what was going through her pretty head? The not knowing what she thought drove him crazy. Well, that and the not being able to see, touch, or kiss her.
“Ren,” his mother called from the kitchen, bringing him back from his wandering thoughts.
His father had kept his word and not mentioned their conversation to Mom, but his stomach churned with acid at the thought of telling her. She’d be upset, maybe even angry, blaming Stacey somehow. She’d stop listening to his explanation and press forward with telling him what to do in her overbearing maternal sort of way. In her eyes, he’d never be old enough to live his own life without her interference.
He loved her. But there had been many moments throughout his life where he’d felt suffocated. He understood some of her reasoning. After years of trying to get pregnant and multiple miscarriages, he was her miracle child. She’d do anything for him, except give him the freedom he craved to live his life. This conversation about Stacey could be the catalyst to opening a door in the relationship with his mom. Or her reaction could sever what remained.
“What’s up, Mom?” He leaned against the kitchen doorway and crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you need help?”
“Nope. This is almost back to normal.” She released the bowl she held with her injured arm and gingerly moved back and forth. “Hasn’t interfered too much with my cooking.”
His mother stood at the counter, tossing pasta with her good arm and a large spoon. Hints of basil and pine nuts lofted his way.Yum!She had whipped up her homemade pesto sauce.
He’d always thought she’d have made a great chef or one of those hosts on a cooking channel, making one concoction after the next. Whenever he’d mention that to her, she told him she’d probably hate cooking if shehadto do it all the time.
When he was home from college, he rarely missed a meal. Hell, anything would have been better than another night of pizza or hot dogs, but his mom’s cooking was nothing short of mouthwatering. His friends knew it, too. Often, the Haynes’ kitchen table had been full of growing men drooling over the aromas in the air and the plates of food laid before them.
“Are you going out tonight?” She looked up. Her hair was pulled in a loose lop-sided ponytail he was sure his father helped secure since she still had limited range of motion in raising her one arm that far back. Two little laugh lines hugged her smile, and tiny lines formed by her eyes. Most people would never guess she was forty-six. She could easily pass for a thirty-something.
“I might head over to the Alehouse for a game of pool with Tyler and a few of the guys. Why do you ask?” Maybe he was overplaying the nonchalant approach. He rolled his head from side to side, stretching neck muscles. His anxiety made him tighter than a hamstring muscle after too many deadlifts. He should tell her about Stacey. “Do you need me?”
“Nope. I like to know where you are when you’re home. I worry. I know it drives you crazy, but I’m always going to be your mother.” She smiled.
“Yes, I know, Mom.” He inhaled and released his breath slowly. “At some point, you’re going to have to get used to the idea that I’m an adult now, have been legally for five years, and am capable of making my decisions and living my life.” He hadn’t meant to sound so harsh, but he couldn’t control the sharpness in his voice. The words were out before he could stop them or soften his tone. His irritation controlled the moment.
She winced. It was hard for her to hear. She had her helicopter mom moments as he grew up: Cutting his chicken for him until he was twelve for fear he’d choke, not letting him bike around the neighborhood without a crew of friends until almost fourteen. She meant well. Perhaps a bit smothering, but he still hated disappointing or hurting her. He wasn’t sure there would be a way around it where his relationship with Stacey was concerned.
“Dinner’s in ten minutes, Ren,” she said, dismissing him with a wave of her hand. Pesto sauce dripped from the spoon still clasped tightly in her hand. Her feelings had been hurt and she was done. He bowed his head and walked out of the kitchen and into the living room where his father sat watching a Tampa Bay Rays game.
It could have been a great opportunity to talk to her about Stacey. But he couldn’t bring himself to discuss his feelings when he already appeared to have upset her. Her displeasure in him wanting her to let go, let him live his life, would only fuel her fire of him wanting to explore a relationship with their neighbor. She’d think he was with Stacey to spite her even though she had nothing to do with it.
Ren plopped down on the sofa and kicked his bare feet up on the coffee table. His father looked over at him and grinned. They fell into a comfortable silence watching the game until his mother called for dinner.
****
Another night of bullshitting with some of his old high school buddies at the Alehouse and shooting a few games of pool. Ren enjoyed catching up with everyone and hearing stories of school or work or married life, but he struggled to concentrate.
“Haynes? You with us?” Tyler asked, standing next to him.
He chuckled. Tyler knew exactly where his mind was. “Sorry. My mind is elsewhere tonight.” Ren swiped a hand down his face.
“Go get her, dude.” Tyler patted him on the back. “I’ll make an excuse for you.”
“Thanks, man. I appreciate it.” Ren excused himself and headed toward the parking lot.
What if she decided to stay in Sarasota another night? If she did, he’d be on Interstate 275 to 75 South faster than she could conjure up her next romance novel plot.
