Page 2 of Love Deep
“In here, Mom,” I call back and open the bathroom door.
My mom is holding a foil-covered dish—because my mom never comes over without food. Not ever. I mean, I love it. She’s a great cook, and it saves me a job, but I think she thinks we’d both starve without her.
“Fizzy, I’m sick,” Riley calls from behind our cat-print shower curtain. Each cat has a name and its own unique identity.
“Oh, my darling girl,” my mom says. “It’s good Fizzy’s here. You can have some slow-cooked chicken. It will make you feel much better.”
Riley groans, and I maneuver Mom out of the doorway and back into our living space. The last thing I want is Riley vomiting again.
“Mom, can you make me a plate of that chicken? I can’t wait to try it. I’ll just go and get Riley out of the shower.”
“Won’t you eat at Grizzly’s?” she calls, as I head back down the hall to the bathroom.
“I’m not going to leave Riley.”
I’m equally sad for Riley being sick and sad for me that I’m no longer heading out to Grizzly’s to meet Fisher. But life rarely works out how you planned. There’s no way I’ll leave my daughter when she’s sick. It’s not that I don’t trust my mother—of course I do. But I’m Riley’s mom, and she needs to know that she comes first for me. Her dad has shown her often enough that she doesn’t come first for him, and she doesn’t need that message from two parents.
I knew when I became a mom that I’d make sacrifices, and I’ve always embraced them. What I get from being a mother far outweighs anything I give up. Even if it’s an encounter with a suave Englishman. Yeah, maybe I’m overprotective, but that’s who I am. It’s who Ihaveto be. My mom and dad help out, but Riley’s my responsibility and always has been, even when her father lived in Star Falls.
“Oh, Juney,” she says, and that’s the last thing I hear.
“How’s my sweet girl doing in here?” I ask.
“I’m cold,” she says as steam billows in the bathroom.
I turn off the faucet and pull back the curtain. “Let’s get you dry.” I cover her with a towel and help her out of the shower.
“Mommy, Fizzy’s going to make me eat that chicken, and I just can’t.”
I press a kiss to her head and start to dry her off like I used to when she was too little to dry herself. I miss these little moments, now that she’s bigger. The times when she used to need me, but she needs me less and less. She’s growing so fast. Riley’s eight going on eighteen.
“Fizzy’s not going to make you eat that chicken. I won’t let her.”
“As soon as you leave, she will. Please don’t go, Mom.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I say, rubbing the towel over her brown curls, which always appear when her hair is wet. “How can I leave my sweet girl when she’s sick?”
“Really, Mommy? You’re going to stay?” She says it like I’m always out.
A couple of times a month, I make it a mile down the road to Grizzly’s. It’s not like I’m shaking my booty in… New York. Regret pulls at my stomach. I won’t see Fisher now.
But it doesn’t matter. It’s not like anything could havecome of that anyway. He’s some hotshot in New York, and I’m a single mom in Star Falls, Colorado. I laugh at myself. What was I thinking?
“What’s so funny?” Riley asks.
“Oh, just life,” I say, patting her head as we go into her bedroom. “Now, which PJs do you want? The blue ones with the cats?”
While she changes, I go back to my room, pull my hair into a ponytail, and swap my jeans for sweats. I’m more comfortable like this anyhow.
Riley’s coming out of her bedroom with Miss Paws just as I come out of mine. “I’m sorry I ruined your night. I bet you and Eva were going to have a lot of fun, right?”
“Not as much fun as I’ll have here with you.”
She grins up at me and holds up her stuffie. “Don’t forget Miss Paws. She’s fun too.”
“Super fun,” I reply. “The funnest.”
“Mommy,” she says, “funnestisn’t an actual word, you know.”
