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“All right, dear. See you later,” she replies.
“Bye, Mom.”
I switch apps and fire off a text to Hallie.
Me: My mom and Gram are having dinner together at Mom’s and we’re invited.
I leave out the part where they don’t know she’d be attending too.
Hallie: My parents are bowling tonight and won’t be home until late. Tomorrow is better for them.
Me: Ok. Just tell me when and I’ll be there.
Hallie: Thanks. What time should we head to your mom’s?
Me: Is 5:30 ok?
Hallie: Yep.
Me: I’ll pick you up. See you then.
Hallie: *insert thumbs-up emoji*
Shaking my head, I finally place my phone on my desk and run my hands through my hair. What a fucking mess. I can’t believe Shay snooped through my desk like that. No, wait. I can, really. She used to pull that shit when we were still married. Always looking through my phone—which I had nothing to hide—and through closets and drawers.
I need to get her away from this company, but my repeated offers to buy her out are fruitless. Maybe I’ll reach out to my lawyer once more and try again. It’s been about a year since I made my last offer, so it’s time to try again. I can’t exactly afford to keep upping the offer too much more, but what’s a little more debt when it comes with some peace of mind that I wouldn’t be dealing with my ex-wife six days a week anymore.
That would be heaven.
A pipe dream at this point, but heaven nonetheless.
“Ready?” I ask as I pull into the driveway of my childhood home.
“Not really,” she mutters, looking a little pale.
“Are you feeling okay?” I ask, quickly stopping and throwing my truck into Park.
She glances my way with those pretty blue eyes of hers. “I’m not nauseous, just nervous.”
“Don’t be,” I insist, grabbing my keys. “My mom and Gram love you. They’re going to be thrilled.”
Hallie sighs. “I hope you’re right.”
Climbing out of my truck, I head around to the passenger side and help her out. “I’m always right,” I quip, knowing it’ll get her mind off her anxiousness.
She rolls her eyes dramatically. “Whatever, Johnson. You’re so full of shit.”
“Is that Hallie?”
I didn’t even realize my mom had opened the front door, and now she’s standing on the porch, a wide smile on her face the moment she spots Hallie.
“Hi, Mrs. Johnson,” she replies, walking to where my mom stands and giving her a hug.
“Enough of that Mrs. Johnson stuff. Mrs. Johnson is my mother-in-law inside. Call me Patty, please. Come inside. I’m so happy Logan brought you,” she says, wrapping an arm around Hallie’s shoulders and guiding her onto the front porch.
The moment they step inside, I hear her stomach growl. The aromas are a mixture of freshly baked bread and rich marinara with a touch of spice, and I know exactly what my mom made for dinner. Definitely not the bland diet Hallie’s been going for, but I don’t think she’s going to complain.
“Look at you,” Gram says, getting up from the table and moving straight for Hallie, arms extended. She’s pulled into a tight hug immediately, squeezed hard for several long seconds. When she pulls back, she adds, “You’re glowing, dear. Simply beautiful.”
