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I stayed another few minutes, so happy my heart felt too big for my chest. Then I kissed him and left the bed to shower and dress.
44
Talon
Eden slid me a look. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“You’re white-knuckling the steering wheel.”
She was right. I relaxed my grip.
We were on our way to my mother’s cottage. As soon Eden had Olivia’s okay, she’d insisted on meeting my mom. To tell the truth, I was glad to have her. Mom hadn’t taken the news of Esposito’s passing well, and I was crap at comforting people.
Mom didn’t have any close family on the island, either. She’d been an only child and her parents were dead, and most of her friends had dropped her years ago. So I’d thrown money at the problem instead, paying Denise, the lady who came twice a week, to come five days instead. At least I knew my mother was eating and taking showers.
So I’d zipped Eden into the new down coat I’d bought her—because she could restore, rework and reuse previously owned clothes if that was her dream, but I was damned if my pregnant mate was going to run around in a Nova Scotia winter wearing an unzipped coat—and bundled her into the SUV.
I pretended to focus on rounding a small bend in the road. Snowflakes drifted down, sparkling under the SUV’s headlights. “There’s something I should tell you about my mom.”
“Go on,” Eden encouraged softly.
I flexed my fingers on the wheel. “She’s an addict, okay? A drinker. She may not be sober.”
“I know—and it’s okay. I still want to meet her.”
“You knew?” I shook my head. “I guess it’s not a secret.”
“No. And it’s also not a secret how you take care of her.”
“She’s my mom.”
“I know, and you’re doing everything you can. The rest is on her.”
I nodded. “I know.”
“Do you, Talon? Do you really know that? Or do you think you should be able to fix her?”
I downshifted, taking the turn onto my mom’s road.
I should be able to fix her. But I can’t. I’m not enough. I was never enough.
“Talon?” Eden asked.
“We’re here,” I said gruffly.
She settled back, her disappointment filling the small cab. “I’m here,” she said. “When you’re ready to tell me.”
“Wait for me to help you out.” I rounded the car and opened the door—and pulled her close. “I love you so fucking much,” I said against her striped wool hat.
“I love you, too.” She stroked my nape. “Remember that.”
Mom stood on the porch, arms hugged around her too-thin waist, her face lined and weary. “Thank you for coming,” she told Eden.
My new mate pulled her into a hug. “I would’ve come sooner, but they wouldn’t let me.”
My mom stiffened, then clung to Eden for a long moment. When she finally stepped back, her gaze moved over Eden’s face, pausing at her bruised cheek. The ugly marks Lemaire had left were still visible, if faded.
