Between mouthfuls of chewy brownies, Cat narrowed her eyes and pointed her spoon at Clare. “You can’t lose your shit.”
Hackles activated. Mom-poker-face initiated. “No promises. But I’ll do my best.”
After another bite, Catriona nodded. “I’ll take it.” But she fell silent, dipping her head and staring blankly at the plate of food in front of her. Was she trying to figure out how to tell her whatever the hell it was she had to say? Or was that the end of the conversation?
Was she taking drugs? Had her behavior changed? Was she dropping out of school? Was she pregnant? Wait, was she having sex? Shit. Fuck. What. The. Fuck? Sure, she’d offered her protection, but she didn’t think she’d actually use it. Or maybe she just didn’t want to think about her using it. She shuddered.
She wanted to grab her darling child by the shoulders and scream “tell meeeeeeee” but she gnawed on the inside of her cheek. Trying to funnel patience from somewhere deep inside her tummy, she unloaded the dishwasher to keep her hands busy instead.
“Catriona?”
She held up a finger, took a deep breath, and when she lifted her head to meet Clare’s eyes, tears trickled down her face. Curiosity on momentary pause, Clare crossed the short distance to the breakfast bar and wrapped her beloved baby in a mom-hug.
Those kinds of hugs that hit differently. Those hugs that squeeze you back together when you feel like you’re coming apart at the seams and you have no idea how to stop the free fall.
“Whatever it is, it’ll be okay baby girl.”
Cat shook her head against her shoulder. “I should have listened to you.”
Her stomach tightened. About what? Drugs? Boys? School? Sex? She needed a little more to work with. Her daughter was the personification of click-bait and Clare needed the below-the-fold detail.
Cat sat upright, pushing herself away from Clare’s shoulder and sniffed. “I’ve been dating…someone.”
The way she mumbled her words and wouldn’t meet Clare’s gaze was a sure sign that it was probably not someone Clare would approve of. “Okay…? That’s it? That’s the whole story?”
Teenage glare: intensified.
Dang. She had it down pat.
“You already know that’s not the whole story.”
Clare nodded. “I do. But I also can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on, and I can’t hear you if you mumble into your dessert.”
Cat rolled her eyes. She was a foot stamp away from the trifecta of teenage tantrums. When her nostrils stopped flaring, she took another bite. “I was dating Chad.”
Chad.
By some serendipitous or divine intervention, Clare had managed to keep Chad away from Catriona for her entire childhood education to date. With only a short time left before graduation, she’d fallen at the final hurdle.
Fucking Chad.
The all-star high school quarter back who was reportedly using performance enhancing drugs. The student who flunked damn near every class but no one seemed to give two shits because he was some kind of sports god. The asshole who’d broken the hearts of almost every one of Cat’s friends over the years.
Please no, not Chad.
“I can feel your judgment, Mom.”
She held her hands up. “No judgment. Maybe you’re pickin’ up my stench though. I really need a shower after all this.” She sniffed her armpit before sweeping a hand through the air above all the food, but Cat’s face remained serious.
“I thought he’d changed.”
If wishing made it so.
“I thought he was different.”
Didn’t every woman? But in large part they were all the same. Once a lying piece of shit, always a lying piece of shit.
“I thought he wanted to be better. To do better. For me.” She sniffed again and wiped her trickling tears on the back of her forearm.
