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“It’s nothing, honey!” she called over her shoulder. “Go back to sleep.”
She ushered me inside, and I followed her into the kitchen. The light was already on, with a glass of water abandoned on the counter.
“I’ll get some tea started,” Ma said. “Then you can tell me what’s on your mind.”
I glanced toward the dark hallway that led to her bedroom. It felt…strange…to know that she had a man in her house who I hadn’t met yet.
“Shouldn’t we talk about your slumber party?” I asked.
Ma waved me off.
“Later. Have a seat. Get comfortable. There must be a good reason you wandered onto my front porch in the dead of night. So, let’s hear it.”
I sat at the same small kitchen table I remembered from when I was a boy. As she filled a kettle with water and set it on the stove to boil, I deliberated how I could tell her the magnitude of my feelings for Rory.
“Ah,” Ma said softly in understanding. “I know what this is about. You’re in love.”
“That’s nothing new. I’ve fallen in love with plenty of women.”
Ma shook her head.
“This one is different. She’s special.”
I dropped my gaze to the worn tabletop, rubbing at a water stain there.
“How could you tell?”
Ma cupped my chin with a tender smile.
“It’s written all over your face, Beau.” She paused then added, “And half the town is talking about you and Rory Copeland.”
I swallowed around the lump in my throat, and my voice felt as scratchy as sandpaper when I spoke.
“I can see…everything with her, Ma. Building a home together. Maybe having a few kids. Growing old, side by side. I’ve never wanted that before with anyone else. Just her.”
Ma nodded as she took a seat across from me.
“Does that scare you?”
Yes. No. A little.
“Losing her is the thing that scares me,” I whispered. “But she doesn’t think I’ll stay.”
Ma hummed and reached across the table to squeeze my hand.
“It’s still new between the two of you. Give her some time to settle and adjust.”
The kettle began to bubble faintly. She released me and pushed her chair back, retrieving two mugs from the cupboard.
“I want to be a better husband and father than him,” I said, my voice rough and low.
Ma went still with her back facing me. Slowly, she turned around, leaning against the counter.
“You will be.”
“How do you know that?” I countered.
“You were so young when your father walked out, but you got it into your little head that you were the man of the house now. And you’ve taken that responsibility very seriously ever since. You’ve spent your whole life running scared, Beau. Working yourself ragged to not be like him. You were never like him, sweetie. Never.”
