“Though I am still not sure why we are avoiding the topic,” Jillian says and I close my eyes tight. I hear someone whisper yell at her. “What? Aaron isn’t some bad guy. He’s very good-looking, all tall, tan, and manly. I swear those arm muscles have muscles. The dimples make him seem boyish and sweet, but that smile tells an entirely different story. The boy is not a boy, he is a man. And from what we’ve all heard bits and pieces of, he did everything right. So again, I am not sure why we are avoiding telling her that she should ride that train all the way to the border and back as often as she can.”
I want to laugh at her and if she was giving this lecture to anyone else other than me I would. I’d probably be adding all my own little comments too.
“Jilly.” I hear the sound of something slapping someone before Jillian whispers.
“Whatever,” she huffs and the blender kicks on once more.
I release a slow breath, one I hadn’t realized until right then that I was holding.
Then I turn around and face them all as they each give me a different look. Seriousness, irritation, and even sympathy…and I hate them all.
CHAPTER NINE
Aaron
“How are things going with Chelsea?”my mother asks as she kneads the dough and I stand only a few feet away, watching. She is looking down at her hands but I sense she already knows something and it makes me uneasy.
I had every intention of not bringing it up, I know my mother and hers are friends. I knew going in that things were going to be up front and center. Everything that went on between Chelsea and I, or didn’t go on, both our mothers would know. It would be the topic of conversation at every event no matter how hard I tried to keep it separate.
Before I know it, my mouth is opening and the words are pouring out.
“I’m sorry I’m not the man you want me to be.” Her hands pause and she looks over at me with both her brows furrowed. Confusion is written all over her face.
“What are you talking about?” Releasing the dough she grabs a towel and starts wiping her hands clean. “You are exactly the man I want you to be.” My mother drops the towel and takes a few steps toward me. Placing her hand on my forearm she offers it a squeeze. “You are strong and kind, you are loyal and hardworking, compassionate and loving, every one of those qualities prove your words wrong. I couldn’t be more proud of the man you’ve become, Aaron.”
“I know you want this thing between Chelsea and I to work out and Mom I tried, I did…” The words die because I honestly don’t know how to finish the sentence. There is nothing there, no interest, not even a little. I also know this puts my mother in an awkward position.
“I want you happy. That is all I’ve ever wanted for you,” she insists with a smile. “I don’t care if that is with Chelsea, or a guy named Bruce.”
I look at her and my expression must say it all because she laughs. There are tears in her eyes and she holds her side with one hand and places her fingers to her lips with the other.
“Really, Ma?” I ask, with my own chuckle because that was so out of character for my mom. Granted she is not a stiff like Chelsea’s mom. Mine, she knows how to settle in, have fun, and slip a little.
“I’m being serious.” She finally wipes at her eyes and grows calm once more. “It was never about the who. Your father, God love him, has worked hard every single day to build this life for us. I adore the man but sometimes I think he forgets to stop and enjoy himself. He forgets that there are things out there other than work. What I don’t want is for you to wake up five or even ten years from now and realize that you’ve had a lot of okayrelationships but nothing that makes your heart race. I don’t want you to miss out on life, Aaron. I want you to love and be loved. I want you to have that joy. I want you to have memories you want to hold on to. This dating thing with Chelsea, it was me hoping to give you a little push to keep your eyes open for that someone.”
I look down and because she is my mother she just knows there is a hidden meaning behind my aversion. Like some built in lie detector, or in this case mind reader.
“Is there someone?” she asks with those curious eyes widened a little, her brows lifted, and a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
I take a deep breath, knowing this is the moment I could be honest and spill everything inside of me to my mother. This is the point that I could confess I think I am in love with a woman that doesn’t want to settle down. A woman that is wild and spontaneous and the exact opposite of everything she’s ever dreamed for me. She knows Kendall, she has been around her at weddings and birthdays, she has met her before. Though Kendall is more reserved during those events, it’s not hard to pick up on her independent attitude.
But instead I offer her a smile. “You’ll be the first to know when there is a special someone.” I’m not quite ready for all the questions and most likely concerns that I know will be rapid fired in my direction the moment my mother knows. She doesn’t have a great ability to be left in the dark. My mother is a need to know person, and she needs to know everything. Especially when it comes to me or my father, she is relentless.
“Aaron.” The warning in her voice makes me laugh. I reach out and pull her in, hugging her close. “Is there something you need to tell me?”
“Not yet, Mom,” I say ensuring her, knowing already that it won’t be enough, but hoping like hell she’ll accept that it’s all I am willing to give.
Relief settles over me, the heaviness I have felt in my chest for weeks easing a little. My biggest concern throughout this all is the position this puts my mother in.
“What about Joan?” I ask and feel my mother’s body shift as she takes a deep breath.
“I never understood just how crazy that woman was until now,” she says, leaning back and creating a little distance between us. “She has always been a little pushy, a little flashy, and in everybody’s business at all times. But my goodness Aaron, I am not a violent person but there have been a few times I’ve wanted to strangle the woman.”
I chuckle, crossing my arms over my chest, leaning back against the countertop behind me.
“She sends at least twenty-five messages a day. She calls and even emails me too. When is Aaron going to call Chelsea? When does Aaron plan to take Chelsea out again? Shouldn’t we set up a meeting with the kids? We should plan a dinner and get the two of them together. It is one message after another. I’ve muted my phone, avoided her calls.”
Again she takes a deep breath.
