Page 18 of One Night in Paris

“Mom, I don’t want you exerting yourself. Besides, the only thing that I really need to wash is my apron, and I’ll need that. Stupid thing smells like grease.” I glanced over at the apron sitting on top of the load of whites I wished I’d have time to wash but knew I wouldn’t. I really needed to pick up another one, but neither diner supplied the kind I liked with deeper pockets for us, and I just didn’t have the extra money.

“Well, take that with you, and I’ll do the rest. I may be sick, honey, but I’m not helpless.” Mom reached over and rested her hand on top of mine.

“Thanks, Mom. But if it gets to be too much—”

She cut me off. “You don’t worry, dear. I can do it. Really, I didn’t feel so sick this time.”

Squeezing her hand back, I searched her face to see if she was telling me the truth. From what I could see, she seemed to be. “You’re the strongest person I know.”

Mom looked away, and I had to, too. Otherwise, I was going to spend the few minutes I had left with her before I had to go back to catch my shift at the other diner crying over my breakfast. I’d hurried over here to check on her this morning, but unfortunately, I had the lunch rush at Uncle Joe’s Diner. At least I wouldn’t have to put up with Dotty again until tomorrow.

“Did anything exciting happen at Carmine’s Saturday night?” Mom tried her eggs, placing a small bite in her mouth, chewing, and swallowing with caution. She let it sit for a second before continuing. Anything she ate could make her sick. Her eyes stayed glued to my face, though.

Ordinarily, I would just tell her that Dotty was on a rampage or that I watched a little girl eat at least half a bottle of ketchup. But my mother knows me better than anyone, so she had to have seen the change in my expression with the question. “Uhm, yeah. Sort of. Not really.”

“Harper Marie, don’t you try to lie to your mother,” she began in a teasing tone. “You know that I can always tell.”

Smirking at her, I took a bite of my bacon, savoring the deliciousness, before I swallowed it down and told her the truth. Sort of. “Well, I met this guy in Paris. Logan. I knew he lived in New York, but this is such a big city, I certainly didn’t expect to ever see him again.”

“But you did see him again?” Mom surmised, sipping from her glass of water.

Nodding, I shrugged, trying to make it seem like it wasn’t a big deal. The last thing I needed was for her to know I’d actually slept with him. “Yeah. It was kind of weird. Anyway, that’s about all that happened.”

Mom wasn’t buying what I was selling. “Do you like this boy?”

I almost laughed at her use of the word “boy.” But then, Logan had tried to tell me he was a student. “He’s nice.”Smoking hot body, excellent in bed, killer smile… he’s fine. Just fine.

A smile graced the corners of my mom’s mouth. “And do you suppose you’ll see him again?”

Sighing, I decided now was a good time for honesty. “Mom, I don’t have time to date anyone. You know that.” I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, knowing she’d blame herself, but it was true.

“You could make time.” Her eyes were hopeful as she looked over at me.

Shaking my head, I told her, “No, Mom. I really can’t. He gave me his number, but I just… shoved it in my apron. It’s probably not even there anymore.” I hadn’t noticed it when I pulled out my tips. The massive tip the man had left me would definitely help with Mom’s chemo. I wished I could see Logan again just so I could thank him for that, but I wasn’t going to callhim just to tell him how much I appreciated it. Doing so would only open a huge can of worms.

“Well, if he just showed up at your diner in this city with all of these people, that sounds like a sign to me, dear.” Mom shrugged and took a sip of her water, pretending to have let the subject go. I knew my mother, though. She wouldn’t be done with it if I said anything less than what she wanted to hear.

“Maybe, Mom. I don’t know.” Giving her a tight-lipped smile, I took another bite, hoping the conversation was over. I didn’t even have time to think about Logan at the moment, let alone go out with him.

About halfway through my meal, the washer chimed. Abandoning my plate for a moment, I went to put my clothes in the dryer, taking the whites, other than my apron, to toss them in the washer so mom would only have to put them in the dryer for me. Of course, I knew when I came back all of my laundry would be folded and hung up. She’d even iron anything she felt was too wrinkly. That was my mom.

When I came back to the kitchen, Mom was settling in her chair like she’d gotten up. “Do you need something?” I asked her.

“No, no. I just… dropped my fork. Had to get a clean one.”

“Oh.” I didn’t see a dirty one in the sink, but maybe she meant she washed it off. Sitting back down, I finished my breakfast. By then, it was about time for me to head back to the train.

Rinsing my dishes, I left them in the sink because I knew my mom would want to wash them properly in a sink of hot water, and I didn’t have time for that. One day, I wanted to get the woman a dishwasher. But then, I wanted to get her a lot of things.

“I’m going to go clean up really quickly. The dryer should be done in a few minutes, then I’ve got to go.”

“All right, honey.” Mom’s tone sounded either tired or worried, I wasn’t sure. Pausing by the door, I looked over her. She was chewing her toast, staring out the window in front of her.

More than anything, I wanted to stay with her. At least my shift at the diner today wasn’t that long, and I’d be able to catch a train back here to stay with her this evening. I’d even have time to do a few chores that needed doing, things Mom didn’t feel up to. Like paying bills.

About thirty minutes later, I finished pinning my hair up and slipped on my blue uniform for Uncle Joe’s. Mom was sitting in her chair now, reading a magazine. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Stooping, I kissed her cheek, and she patted me lovingly on the arm.

“Be careful, dear.” Mom smiled at me, but I could see concern in her eyes.

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