Page 72 of Cognac & Cornflowers

“Everything’s fine here. What about you?”

“Yep. Everything’s fine here, too.” She let out a short laugh. “You had me worried for a minute there. You didn’t sound like you. I thought you were going to tell me something worrying.”

“No. How about you? Do you need to tell me anything that I might worry about?”

“No. Why? What do you mean?”

“Where are you?”

“I … I’m at home.” Becca frowned. It wasn’t a lie. This was her home now – she just hadn’t gotten around to telling her folks that she’d moved in with Jacob yet. She’d told them she was seeing him. They were okay that he was older than her. They were more concerned about who he was, than how old he was. She’d had a few awkward conversations with them about what he did, and how much money he had. Some parents might want their daughter to go out and find a rich man to marry, but hers weren’t like that. They’d be happier if she’d met a fellow teacher or something. She supposed she could see it from their point of view. They didn’t want anyone taking advantage of her. But once they met Jacob, they’d understand.

Until they met him – and who knew when that would be – she was hoping that she’d be able to get them used to the idea of him by telling them a bit more about him every time they talked. Then, at some point – some point soon, she wasn’t trying to keep it a secret, just trying to ease them into it – she’d tell them that she’d moved in with him. She didn’t think that they’d object – they’d been cool with her living with Aiden.

“When you say that you’re at home, do you mean that you’re in the townhouse? The place that you and Aiden rented?”

Becca’s heart sank. Her mom knew. She had no idea how she knew, but she did.

“Why?”

Her mom let out a short laugh. “You learned that answering a question with a question thing from me. It drives your dad nuts. But you’re not going to get away with it. I saw Aiden’s mom in the post office this afternoon. She said that she was glad you were doing so well. I didn’t know what she meant until she said that you must be doing well to have been able to give Aiden the money from the deposit back.”

Becca blew out a sigh.

“What’s going on, Becs? Are you still in the townhouse? If you are, where’d you get that much money from? And if you’re not, where are you living?”

“It’s okay, Mom. Really. I’m fine. I couldn’t keep up with the townhouse by myself and I didn’t want you guys to worry. Aiden needed his half of the deposit back … so I gave it to him.”

“I know that much. What I want to know is how – did they just give it back to you, even though you moved out early? I thought they kept the deposit if you break a lease?”

“You’re right. I didn’t get it back. You know how I’ve been telling you about Jacob?”

“You’ve moved in with him?”

“Yes.”

Her mom was quiet for a long few minutes. “Okay. Tell me more. You’ve told us that he’s forty and he’s a winemaker. I’m guessing that means he has his own place.”

Becca looked around at the kitchen and couldn’t help smiling. “He does. It’s a very nice place, too.”

“Okay. What else?”

Becca closed her eyes. She knew that her mom wanted to hear about whether he was charging her rent, what she planned to do if things didn’t work out between them, and all the other practical details that would be important if she’d moved in with just some guy. But that wasn’t what she needed to hear, because Jacob wasn’t just some guy.

“I love him, Mom, and he loves me. We’ve talked about getting married and having a family and everything.”

“I see. Don’t you think it’s a bit fast? You’d only just met him when you were home for the holidays.”

“It is fast, but … it’s right.”

“I hope so, Becs. I’ll be keeping my fingers crossed for you, but I can’t know for sure until we’ve met him. You know your dad’s not going to like it.”

“I do. I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner that I’d moved in with him. It’s just that everything was getting a bit much for me and … I might as well tell you that Fred died, too, and I was in a mess and Jacob just helped me out – with everything.”

“And now you’re dependent on him? I don’t like that, Becs.”

“No! I’m not dependent on him.” She wasn’t, was she? “It’s not like that. I love him. He’s everything I could want in a man, in a husband. He’s the one I want to be the father of my children.” She let out a short laugh. “If you’re so eager for me to make you a grandma again, you’d better meet him soon and hope that you like him, because he’s the one who’s going to be their daddy.”

“And yet you didn’t even tell us that you’d moved in with him – why?”

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