That was it? He was back? Back, back? Or do my laundry so I can leave again, back?
“Mase-Mallow? Is everything okay?” Her stomach fluttered as she called up the stairs after him.
“Don’t make it a thing, Mom. I’m back.”
“I’m not. I mean… I’m glad you’re back, of course I am. But I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m fine, Mom. My case is full of dirty clothes, though, sorry.”
She chuckled. “I can handle that. But get your ass down here and put those dirty clothes in the laundry room, please.”
“But Moooooooom!”
Catriona skipped down the stairs. She’d been so quiet all evening that Clare had forgotten she was even home.
“You’ve been awfully quiet this evening. What are you up to? Do you have a boy hiding in your room?”
Cat snorted. “Other than listening to you sob to all those super old movies? You’ll see.”
Not just old movies, but super old movies. Ouch. If she was honest with herself the movies had been considered “old” when she was in college, so they must be—gulp—classics now. Antiques? Shit. Fuck. She was basically a fossil. A single-as-a-Pringle fossil. She should just be put out to pasture already.
“Can you come here a sec?” Cat jerked her head toward the stairs.
“Where are we going?”
“Just to the office. Mase-Monster and I need to talk to you about something real quick.”
Oh god. Talk to her about what? Fuck. Was he only back temporarily? Was he leaving again? Was Cat ready to move out already? Where was this going?
On the left wall in Clare’s office, Catriona had tacked family pictures from over the years. Clare ran a finger over the shiny photos as a wave of nostalgia crashed into her. “What’s all this?”
“Mom.” Cat planted her hands on her hips. “You’ve put Mason and me first for our whole lives—and then some. Since you got pregnant with me. You never put yourself first.”
Mason pushed past Clare to get to Cat and stood mirroring his big sister, hands on both hips. Despite their obvious differences, the family resemblance was still there. They were definitely both her kids.
“It’s time to put yourself first for a change.” Cat’s scowl was again mirrored by Mason’s.
“We think you need to start doing things for you, things you love. We see you working so hard all the time, in a job you’re not truly happy in even though you pretend to be. And we think it’s time for you to spread your wings, like you’re always telling us to.”
Clare’s jaw dropped open. Were her two teenage kids really using her own words against her? Dammit why did she have such smart and quick offspring? Couldn’t they just pretend to listen to her sermons like other kids did with their parents?
“I—”
Cat waved an open hand. “Whatever excuse you’re about to come up with, we don’t want to hear it. We’re both getting older. I’m leaving for school, and Mason is back home now, but you still need to start living too. For yourself, not for us.”
Tears welled in Clare’s eyes at her daughter’s heartfelt words.
“I know you’re thinking of turning down that promotion they offered you at work, but I really think you should take it, Mom. I think you should start chasing your dreams with as much passion and determination as you encourage us to chase ours.”
Fuck. When had Catriona gotten so fucking eloquent? That certainly hadn’t come from Clare. What an amazing woman she was raising. But was she also right? Wasn’t it her job as their mother to always put them first?
Wasn’t it her job to keep her hopes and dreams on hold until she’d helped them reach theirs? Had she been wrong this whole time to keep her own passions at bay?
Mason’s tongue poked out the side of his mouth as he jammed his finger into his cast. “Agh. So itchy.”
Clare stepped between the kids to her desk and opened the middle drawer. When she produced a metal ruler, his face lit up. “Don’t make it weird, Mom. We’re worried about you. We want you to be happy. And you’re not. You’re always so busy. And when you’re not busy with work, you’re busy taking care of us. You need to chill out a bit more.”
“Or, y’know, any.” Cat’s mumbled addition was still loud enough to be heard and her cheeks pinked as Clare’s brow arched in response.
