Page 35 of Love, Untangled

Remaining aloof to Pen was even more difficult than being unaware of the sun’s bright warmth. She drew his attention and his desire.

He’d told her he wanted to make some changes. One of them was being honest with himself. He wanted Penelope Davis, and that wasn’t going to change. So he might as well start working toward that relationship—and happiness—with her.

Once he made sure Alpaca Man was home and waved to Pen, Carlo began the short walk back to his place. He pulled out his phone. His heartbeat pounded in his ears as he pressed on his mom’s icon.

It rang twice, three times. His breath caught. Was she so hurt that she wouldn’t take his call? What if she was sick?

“Carlo.”

“Mama.” He hadn’t called her that in decades. They both sighed.

“I’m happy to hear from you,” she said, her voice the soft caress he used to nuzzle into when she tucked him into that twin bed in the room he shared with his older brother Roman.

“I miss you.”

“Oh, my son. I miss you too.”

“I’m sorry…” Words pressed into his throat, clogged with emotion and unable to pass his lips.

She waited because that was what his mother did. She had the patience of the earth itself.

“I’m sorry I stopped coming to dinners,” he choked out. “I’m sorry I let Cora’s opinion become my own. I’m…I’m sorry.”

“And I forgive you.”

Simple words that meant more to him than he could tell her. Much of the tension in his body eased. His mind seemed free of worry, lighter—the very air seemed sweeter, the sun brighter.

He’d needed this conversation.

“I love you, Mom. You and Dad and Roman and Gino.” His brothers—they were nearly a decade older, and Carlo hadn’t been as close with them as they were with each other. The constant hovering after Cora’s death had been part of the impetus for his move to the East Coast; he’d needed space from his family but also to ensure Cora’s dream was realized.

She chuckled. “That’s very nice to hear. So when will you come home?”

Mom was like a hen, clucking about her brood, needing them all close. Carlo rubbed the back of his neck, enjoying the warmth from the sun there. “I can’t. Not now. I have apples to harvest. Cider to make.”

“So you plan to stay all the way across the country? What’s the name of that town again? Sin Bay?”

Carlo chuckled. He walked across his lawn toward the barn, needing to keep moving. Restlessness filled him. He hated to disappoint his family—that’s part of why he’d postponed this call. “You know good and well it’s called Cinnamon Bay. Yes, it’s home.”

“No, my son, we’re your home.” His mother’s voice quavered a little. Then she sighed. The gusty sound echoed through the speaker, causing Carlo’s heart to ache just as much as her words and tone. “This will always be a place you can return to. But you must live your life.”

“Thanks, Mom. I’d love for you to see the farm. What you could do with these apples…”

She chuckled but it was weak.

Carlo kicked out his foot. “I…met someone.”

“Ah. You staying so far away makes more sense. Tell me of her.”

Carlo settled his hips back against the edge of the wheelbarrow and proceeded to catch his mother up on his life.

* * *

The next morning, Carlo strolled through his acres of apple trees, coffee mug in hand, just as he did most mornings. Again, Alpaca Man trailed behind him, but now Carlo enjoyed the animal’s companionship. Telling his mother about Penelope made the situation real.

He wanted a relationship with her. She’d made her interest in him rather clear, so now he needed to return the favor.

“I’m looking forward to showering her with the attention she deserves,” he said to the alpaca.

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