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I laughed. “No wedding on the horizon just yet,” I told her. “Or at least, not mine.” I frowned, thinking again about Eric, wondering if he would take me up on that invitation.
Mom sighed. “Is it too much to ask for my only daughter to have a nice wedding soon? I'm looking forward to having grandchildren, you know. Preferably while I'm still able to chase after them.”
I grinned. “I'm working on it,” I said, even though I knew I shouldn't have as soon as the words were out of my mouth.
“You're working on it, are
you?” Mom asked shrewdly.
“Eric and I had dinner again the other night, nothing big,” I mumbled.
“I hope you didn't waste all your time talking about me and my health again!” Mom said. Her eyes softened. “You know, I've been feeling fine, Livy. I've started drinking three cups of ginger tea every day, and the pain is nearly gone! Ginger works such miracles on the human body.”
“That's great, Mom, but aren't you worried that you're just putting a bandage on things? Dr. Jones said that things were getting worse. Maybe you should get checked out again, just in case.”
“I'm fine,” Mom repeated.
“But the chemotherapy treatments, you should start them right away,” I said. “That's what Dr. Jones said.”
“Hush, Livy,” Mom said, her voice surprisingly sharp. I flinched, hardly able to remember the last time that she'd talked to me like that. She took a deep breath, and from the way her eyes slipped closed for a moment, I could tell that she was counting to 10. “I don't need to be bossed around by my daughter,” she said when she spoke again.
“I'm not trying to boss you around,” I said, shaking my head. “I just do wish that you'd at least consider listening to Dr. Jones on this one. He had the education and the tests to back up what he's saying. I'm worried about you.”
“I know that,” Mom said. “And like I've said, I appreciate that.” She scrubbed vigorously at a plate and then nodded toward the island in the center of the kitchen. “Would you mind taking that 20 out to Buck as you leave? Thanks.”
I frowned, hating that she was practically asking me to leave already. Was that how it would be between us? I showed that I was worried about her, and she pushed me away? I hated the thought of that. I didn't know how to proceed with her, how to get her to see reason. And now, I had a feeling that the next time I saw Eric, we weren't going to be talking about my mother's health, either. I frowned, wondering if I had burned a very critical bridge by going out with Eric on Wednesday night.
For now, I'd have to accept that that's the way things were. I nodded at Mom. “Have a good day,” I told her, grabbing the money that she'd indicated.
“You too,” Mom said.
I paused by the back door, listening to her whistle one of her favorite songs. If I could only figure out how to get through to her!
I shook my head and headed back into the Illinois heat.
Chapter Thirteen
Eric
It had been almost a week since our first date, and although I didn't want to say that I was missing Olivia, I kind of was. I had seen her the previous day when I'd dropped off Emma for daycare and again when I'd picked her up. And I'd seen her that morning as well. But I wanted more than those two-minute interactions with Emma there in the background. I didn't know how to approach the subject, though.
On Tuesday evening, when I stopped by to pick up Emma, no one answered my knock on the front door of the house. If I listened carefully, I realized I could hear Emma's excited laughter coming from the backyard, and I smiled to myself, making my way around the house. Sure enough, there were the two of them, playing with a bubble machine.
As I watched, Emma squealed and chased after some of the escaping bubbles, popping as many as she could. Her grin was a mile wide, and Olivia looked amused as well, a cute little smile on her face.
I couldn't take it anymore, I decided. I marched straight up to her and caught her arm, pulling her around the house, where Emma wouldn't see. “What are you—” Olivia began breathlessly, but I cut her off with a kiss.
The kiss was positively filthy, full of pent-up desire and nervousness. Our lips were hot where they pressed against one another's, and when I nibbled at Olivia's lower lip, she moaned shamelessly and opened her mouth to me. I wasted no time in delving my tongue inside, eliciting sweet little whimpers as I found the tender spots.
When we broke apart, Olivia had a glazed look in her eyes. “Hi,” she whispered breathlessly.
“Hi,” I echoed, pulling her into my arms, my hand cradling the back of her head. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I want to go to dinner with you tonight,” I told her, staring seriously down into her eyes. “That is, if you're free.”
Olivia stared up at me for a moment, a question in her eyes, but then she nodded. “Okay,” she said. “Harlan's still here; his mom is picking him up late today. But I should be free in an hour or so?”
“Sounds good,” I said.
“Let's go back to the Italian place,” Olivia suggested. “I already know where it is so I can drive myself there. That way, you don't have to drive all the way back over here to pick me up.”
