Page 32 of Needing You

When she made it back to his face, there were tears in her eyes. “My god, you look just like your father. Just like him. I mean honestly, I feel like I’ve stepped back in time.” Her wistful expression slipped into mock consternation as she held up a finger. “You’re not a trouble-maker like he was, are you?”

“No, ma’am,” Jackson said with a nervous chuckle.

“I know, I’m only teasing,” Jenna replied. “And don’t call me ma’am, for heaven’s sake. I only just found out I’m a grandma. Take pity on me.”

“What… well, whatshouldI call you?”

Jenna held out her arms to hug him. “Oh, honey, I don’t care what you call me. I’m just so glad you’ll get to call me anything.”

With a grin that made my insides crumple up and die, Jackson stepped into Jenna’s arms for that long-awaited hug. When they pulled apart, Jenna finally turned to me, jumping slightly as if she hadn’t known I was standing there on the damn welcome mat, staring at them like an idiot.

“Well, come on in,” she said briskly, her shoulders rising and chest out.

I stepped over the threshold and held out the dish. “Thank you. I made cupcakes.”

“Did you?”

“Um, yes. It’s kind of my thing.”

One of Jenna’s thick brows lifted slightly. “Is it?”

I gulped.Is it arctic-level chilly in here, or is it just me?

Jenna turned toward Jackson, and that megawatt smile returned. “Everyone’s out back. Except your Uncle Sammy. He’s late. Why don’t you go join them?”

Jackson blinked at the mention of an uncle, but he recovered quickly. Just before he turned away, my sweet boy turned back to me with a look I knew meant,Will you be okay if I go?I nodded and gave him an encouraging smile, which he returned before trotting happily toward the sliding glass door at the back of the house.

As soon as it closed behind him, Jenna turned back to me. “I have a few things I want to say to you.”

“Okay,” I replied, torn between the urge to lift my chin or curl into a ball at her feet.

“First, I want you to know that as Will’s mother—and Jackson’s grandmother—I find your actions completely unacceptable. I know you thought you were doing what was best for your son, but I knowmyson, and I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t tell you how wrong you were.”

Unable to refute anything she’d said, I simply nodded.

“That being said, as a mother who would happily lie, cheat, or steal if it meant protecting one of my own, I also can’t put all of the blame on you—again, because I know my son. I’m sure you heard all kinds of rumors about his antics and then saw a bit of it yourself when you went to New York. So while I can’t say I condone your secrets, I also understand them on a mother-to-mother level.”

Throat tight, I nodded again. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Jenna considered me for a long moment, then sighed. “I’ve said my piece, so now it’s over. And I don’t know about you, but I think we have too much time to make up for to dwell on the past.”

I opened my mouth to reply that I agreed and to thank her again, but the sliding door opened, and a gaggle of Walkers poured into the kitchen. Jake led the way, tossing an insult behind him as Eric made some grumpy remark. Ellie was next, attempting to mediate whatever they were bickering about, followed by Jackson. He wore a dopey grin, chuckling as Will leaned closer with a wry smile, probably poking fun at the rest of them.

“Look, everyone,” Jenna said, promptly plucking the dish from my hands with a wink. “Kate brought cupcakes.”

“I love cupcakes,” Sammy said from behind me, making me jump as he sauntered through the front door. He barely spared me a glance as he followed his mom into the kitchen, setting his motorcycle helmet on the table as he went. “What kind?”

I snapped out of my frozen state and joined them all, watching as Jenna lifted the domed lid to reveal a dozen artfully decorated cupcakes. They all complimented them—Ellie looking especially delighted, since she knew how much I loved baking and decorating—which made my heart swell.

I pointed to each row while I explained what they were. “These three are apple butter caramel, these are banana cinnamon, this row is blackberry lavender, and these are honey, mascarpone, and fig,” I said proudly, clasping my hands together in front of my chest.

Each trio was decorated with speckled or color-swirled frosting, and they all had a bit of flourish on top—a slice of banana here, a sprig of lavender there, a halved fig on the mascarpone ones. It’d been a labor of love, and I really hoped they’d like them.

Sammy scrunched up his face as he stared down at my creations. “Masca-what?”

Will rolled his gorgeous eyes. “Mascarpone is like the Italian version of cream cheese, you idiot.”

“Oh, right, I’m an idiot because I don’t speak Italian,” Sammy bit back. “Why not just call it cream cheese?”

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