Page 120 of Saints & Sailors

We’d gone from a comfortable condo when it was the two us, to moving into a ridiculous McMansion all because Richard wanted “space and breathing room.” Really, he’d just wanted to look the part and mesh well with his pretentious friends and colleagues.

“And you two?” I wondered of the status of my mother and Scott.

For a moment all the playfulness dissolved and they both sobered up. My mother hung by the sink, looking at Scott where he stood at the island with me. He was watching her. “I have to finalize my divorce and figure some things out.” She gave a small shrug, nervous it seemed. “I’m open to getting to know Scott again. I’m open to see where things could go.”

“Would it be crazy if this worked?” Scott asked, hope prominent in his voice. “You, me, and Saylor?”

“I’d like that.” My mother gave a soft smile as she smoothed a hand through her hair. “Can we go slow? Friends first?”

Holding her stare, Scott nodded. “Anything you want, Maddie.”

She came back over to the island, her cheeks pink, her eyes glistening. Scott abandoned his clams, going and wrapping his arms around her. He pressed a kiss to her head before resting his on top of it.

I blinked away my misty vision. Could it all be so simple?

My parents settled down and Scott finished with the clams just as the pasta was ready.

My mother helped me set the table in the dining room. By the time each place was set with glasses of water for my mother and me, and beer for Scott, the garlic bread was finished.

Scott sat on the end close to me, and my mother sat across from me.

“What was it like the first time you saw Scott, Mom?” I asked as I dug into the linguine. Scott left the clam meat in their shells. I thought it was presentation, as the dish looked appetizing that way. Still, I had to get the meat out of each shell between bites. The food was amazing, though. I loved Scott’s cooking.

“I thought he was cute at the club,” my mother said as she twirled her fork around in the pasta. She looked my way, blushing. “But he was really something out of his uniform. This punk kid who knew everything from Zeppelin to Nirvana to Green Day. It was like he was speaking a different language whenever he talked about music.”

Scott ate some of the linguine, fighting a proud smile. And God if I didn’t see myself in him. Feeling my stare, he shot me a wink and I smiled.

“She was a pop and R&B girl,” Scott remarked, eyeing my mother. “I thought I was going to have to learn rhythm to win her over for a second there.”

The thought made us laugh. My mother was the biggest Beyoncé fan and went to every concert with Joyce. She was never shy about dancing whenever one of her upbeat tracks played around the house.

“Hey, Mom, you ever listen to SZA? My friends at school got me into her,” I said.

My mother pointed my way, nodding vigorously. “Yes! I love her. We’ll have to compare songs later.”

It was a deal.

I almost thought to bring up the playlist Dreux made me, but I decided to keep it to myself. It was a mix of genres and I really appreciated the time and effort he’d put into it. Maybe after I’d played it back a few times I’d tell them.

“So,” my mother began, sweeping her attention from me to Scott. “Do we like Dreux?”

I cringed and closed my eyes. “Mom!”

Scott grinned. “He’s an amazing kid. He spent a lot of time here whenever his parents were going through it when he was younger. The only young man in town approved to date our girl.”

“Sounds like he’s quite the catch. He’s definitely handsome,” my mother teased as she wiggled her brows at me.

I rolled my eyes and looked elsewhere, knowing my blush was giving me away no matter how hard I fought it.

Dinner went on and I got to marvel at seeing my parents interact for the first time. My mother would talk about her pottery class or an event she’d gone to with Joyce and Scott hung on to every word. When he spoke, she leaned on her arm and just listened. It was adorable.

After dinner Scott made good on his promise and we went into his music room where he grabbed his acoustic and sat at the piano. Very confidently he found the chords to “Blackbird” and strummed along before he began to sing. His voice was raspy, yet strong. I’d already loved the original, and then the Beyoncé cover, but Scott’s was just as breathtaking.

My mother looked on as Scott played and sang, her eyes glossed over and her arms wrapped around herself.

I leaned into her and watched on.

For the first time in my life, it felt like I had a family.