Page 95 of A Simple Regret

“Theo, dinner’s ready,” Camden says from the doorway, calling my son into the kitchen.

He comes quickly, carrying his cup. “I here.”

Camden smiles, scooping my son up and helping him wash his hands before carrying him to the table. He helps him into his booster seat and takes his cup. “What do you want to drink?”

“Juice!”

Cam chuckles and moves to the fridge. “You got it, little dude.”

“Mom, make a plate,” I say, setting a stack of four plates on the counter.

“This smells good. You always were a good cook,” Mom says, taking a scoop of the dish in the Crock-Pot and a breadstick.

I grab the small plate for Theo’s meal, but Camden steps up and grabs it. “I’ll make Theo’s plate. You make yours.”

I give him a small grin in appreciation. One of the things I love about Camden is how willing he is to step in and help me, even when I don’t ask for it. That’s special.

He scoops a small pile of Italian chicken pasta onto Theo’s plate and breaks a breadstick in half. When he steps out of the way, I make a plate, even though my stomach is in knots. It just feels like something’s brewing, and I don’t like it. I’m sure everything will be fine, but I just have a heavy dose of dread sitting in the pit of my gut. The sooner I can get my mom out of here, the better.

“So, Hillary, how long are you staying?”

“I have Monday off, so I’ll head back to the city in the afternoon. That gives me almost two whole days with my daughter,” she boasts happily.

“I’m sure it’ll be a great visit,” he replies, having a seat with a heaping pile of food on his plate.

We start to eat, and thankfully, Theo keeps us all smiling. Even my mom seems to relax when he’s near.

“Oh! I almost forgot. I have great news,” Mom says, setting her fork down on her plate. “One of the condos in my unit is available at the end of the month.”

Her statement confuses me. “For what?”

“For you, silly,” she replies with a laugh.

“Siwee goose!” Theo blurts out, and even though it’s cute and I usually react, I don’t. I can’t stop staring at my mom.

“Why would you think I would be looking for a new place? I just moved here,” I say slowly, as if the slower I speak, the better chance of my words penetrating her brain and actually getting through.

“Yes, but you used to tell me all about how great it would be to live in the same unit as me. The units have two bedrooms, so you and Theo would have space. Plus, the large grass area that’s shared by all of us. Not to mention a garage, which I know was one of the things you hated about your apartment.”

“Mom—”

“I’ll be able to help you more with Theo. You know, since you moved so far away, I don’t get to see my grandson as much as I’d like. It’s perfect, really,” she says, picking up her fork and stabbing a piece of shredded chicken. There’s a smile on her lips as she pops the food into her mouth and chews.

“I don’t want to move again,” I say gently. “I plan to stay in Cooper Town.”

She laughs, as if my comment was the funniest thing in the world. “Oh, you can’t be serious. We both know nothing good happens in this town. You need the city, where you have more opportunities.”

My throat is dry and it takes every ounce of control I possess to not reach up and pull out my hair. This woman doesn’t listen, and it’s the most frustrating thing in the world. I realize instantly that arguing isn’t going to help. She’ll still think what she wants and push me toward her ideas. She has absolutely no clue what I want, nor does she care.

It’s maddening.

So instead of arguing with her, I keep my mouth shut. I don’t want this weekend to end with a fight, so I choose to table the conversation for now. The last thing I want is to get into a heated discussion with her while Camden and Theo are sitting at the same table. I have more respect for them than that, even if I want to stand up, throw my hands in the air, and chastise her for not listening to anything I say.

The rest of the meal is a blur. My head is spinning, consumed by what was left unsaid—not only by me, but Mom too. Because I know without a shadow of a doubt she’ll be upset when the rest of the conversation finally happens. Mom’s used to getting her way, and when that doesn’t happen, she’s not happy.

Oh well, tough shit!

I have things to say, and she’s going to hear me out, even if it’s like talking to a brick wall. She may not like it or really understand it, but that’s okay.