Page 80 of Fake It For Glory

MERIDA

Visiting my mother’s house was a source of comfort. As I walked through the door, I was immediately greeted by the soothing scent of cinnamon, a stark contrast to the bustling world I had just left behind on my globetrotting adventure with Jensen. She was making her infamous apple turnovers. I loved when my mother baked.

“Mom?” I called out.

I walked down the hall to the spare bedroom which she used as her office of sorts. The boutique she owned, but only worked in part-time, was one of the hobbies she loved.

“In here!”

My mother was hunched over a worktable strewn with fabric samples and sketches. She looked up and her face lit up with a radiant smile as she saw me.

“You’re here!” she exclaimed, rushing over to embrace me. “It’s been too long. I’ve missed you.”

I returned her hug, feeling the familiar comfort of her presence. “I’ve missed you too, Mom,” I replied. “I’ve been traveling like crazy, but I wanted to make sure I stopped by to say hello. I keep telling myself I’m not going to go so long between visits, but then life happens.”

She pulled back and looked me up and down, her keen fashion designer’s eye taking in every detail. “You look stunning, as always, dear,” she said, a hint of pride in her voice. “I like this new look on you.”

I glanced down at myself, feeling a bit self-conscious. I was wearing some of the clothes Hattie had picked out for me during our travels and a pair of heels that made my feet ache. My feet seemed to hurt all the time now, a reminder of the constant hustle and bustle of trying to keep up with Jensen’s busy life.

“Thanks, Mom,” I replied with a smile, trying to ignore the pain in my feet. “I’ve been keeping busy.”

She looked me up and down. I saw the critical look.

“What?” I asked defensively.

“It’s just, well, this doesn’t look like you.”

I laughed. “Because I wouldn’t normally dress like this.”

As my mother studied me with a scrutinizing eye, she broke the silence with a comment that caught me off guard. “You look good, Merida,” she said, her tone slightly hesitant.

I arched an eyebrow, always attuned to the nuances in her voice. “But?” I prompted, sensing that there was more to her comment.

She sighed, her gaze searching mine. “But you don’t really look like, well, you.”

I blinked, surprised by her observation. My mother had always been supportive and accepting of my choices, so her comment struck me as odd. “What do you mean, Mom?” I asked, trying to keep my tone casual.

She hesitated for a moment before speaking. “It’s just that you seem different. Like something has changed about you.”

I waved her concerns away, putting on a brave smile. “What are you working on?” I asked in an attempt to change the subject.

“Just the usual spring fashion stuff,” she replied. “Come on. Let’s go get one of those turnovers. You can tell me what’s going on, and don’t say nothing. You’re my daughter and I know when there is something going on in your life.”

I should have known I wasn’t going to get anything past her. I followed her back to the kitchen. She gestured for me to sit down while she served up the apple turnovers with cold glasses of milk. I took my first bite and groaned with ecstasy. “How are you such a good cook and I inherited none of your skills?”

“Practice, my dear. Remember, I had a little girl and a husband to cook for. I cook with love. That’s the magic ingredient.”

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” I said, laughing.

“But it’s true. Now, stop stalling. Tell me what’s going on.”

I didn’t want to tell her about Faux’s but it was part of the story. She was going to ask questions. I couldn’t tell her half the story.

“I’ve met someone special, someone who has turned my life upside down in the best possible way. I’ve been traveling with him.”

“Is that the man in the video?”

I groaned and dropped my head. “You saw?”