Gin opens the door while I’m debating if I can just walk in or if I should knock first. “Cara!”
She pulls me into a hug that’s over so fast, I don’t even get a sense of whether she’s just happy to see me after our disagreement, or if she’d somehow heard Hayden spent the night at Colleen’s.
That would explain the smile on her face. I guess we’re going with the traditional Gamble way of dealing with problems—pretending they’re not happening.
Walking into Gin’s new home is still a strange experience for me, even though I’ve been over several times since helping her move in. Freed from the accumulated “treasures” of multiple generations, my mother has found her own style. It’s simple and bright, without a lot of clutter, and I’m actually a little jealous.
Okay, a lot jealous. She has a shiny new life, while I’m still stuck in the old one.
“So what’s going on with you?” she asks as we walk toward her small kitchen table. I don’t know why, but we never sit on the living room furniture when I visit. We hang out in the kitchen.
“Nothing, Mom. Everything’s fine.”
She turns to face me and her eyes narrow. “I can hear it in your voice, Cara. You’re still upset. I’m sorry your father and I handled things so badly when you were a teenager. Did you have a fight with Hayden?”
I want to deny it. My emotions are too raw right now to share with anybody, especially Gin. But I guess showing cracks in the marriage helps lay the foundation for what’s to come.
“We had an argument and he slept at his mom’s house last night,” I tell her. “It wasn’t that big a deal.”
“Sleeping on the couch isn’t a big deal. Going home to his mother is a very big deal. What did you fight about? It can’t be about that high school nonsense. That was years ago, and he wasn’t at fault. Your father was.”
I scramble to come up with something besides the truth. “I was already upset when I left here, and then he wanted me to cancel my appointments for the week and go to Boston with him, and I refused.”
“Good for you. He might have money to throw around, but that’s not only your business, but commitments you’ve made to your community.”
Oh, now she respects my business choices. “We’ll get past it, I’m sure.”
Fortunately, she’s setting two glasses of lemonade on the table and can’t see my face. I know Hayden and I are not going to get past the bomb that had been dropped between us, and it takes me a second to shove down the urge to cry.
But after we sit down, her gaze goes right back to my face. “It’s awfully early in the marriage for this big of an issue between you, honey.”
“We had talked about it before, but I think there was something going on—a client dinner or something—that he wanted me in Boston for.”
“You know, you rushed to the altar, and if you’re realizing it was a mistake, then leave him.” Gin’s lips press tightly together for a few seconds, and then she waves her hand. “Let him keep the house, but make sure he buys you out of your half for a fair price so you can find a new place of your own.”
I’m too stunned to speak. I’d sold my marital soul for this outcome, but I’m still shocked to hear those words come out of Gin’s mouth. Except for the part where my heart gets broken, Hayden’s plan actually worked.
“Our last name and that old house were all we had for so many years. And then it was all I had,” Gin continued. “You know how, when you’re driving in a winter storm and you hold the steering wheel so tight, you have a hard time letting go of it because your fingers are so stiff from clenching it?”
“I do.”
“From the day I married Marcus, I had to hold onto that house. For decades I held on so tight, I just couldn’t relax my grip and let it go.”
“It’s okay to move on, Mom. You’re so much happier now.”
“But you’re not.” She locks her gaze with mine, sorrow written all over her expression. “I’m sorry I couldn’t let go even when it was dragging us both down, Carolina. And if this marriage isn’t what you want, walk away. I don’t care who owns that damn house anymore.”
“Thank you.” I reach out and take her hand. She squeezes my fingers in return. “I don’t know what’s going to happen going forward, but you and I are going to be okay.”
“Of course we will. We always are.”
I laugh, and then catch her looking at the clock on the stove for a third time. “Do you have plans tonight, Mom?”
“Just a casual get-together a few houses down. We all bring something to throw on the grill or a side dish, and then we play cornhole. Have you ever played that?”
I shake my head, smiling because it’s hard to imagine my mom throwing beanbags at a hole in a board, but I can tell by the way her face lights up that she enjoys it. “I’ll get out of the way. I just wanted to stop by and say hi.”
Gin sighs. “I do miss living with you, honey.”
