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“I am. I’m gonna tell him you’re stuck with me.”
I laugh. “I’d be okay being stuck with you.”
“Yeah. Turner’s mom is alright, though, so I don’t think he’ll mind.”
“Well, that’s good, at least.”
“Yeah. He got a good mom.”
“Mandy’s pretty awesome,” I agree.
“Yeah,” he repeats. I’m pretty sure the painkillers are making him a little loopy, or maybe it was the hit to his head that did him in. Regardless, this is one of the most interesting conversations I’ve ever had.
His little lips pucker for a minute as he stares at me before he decides, “You’d be a good mom.”
My heart pinches, and I swallow back the lump in my throat. “Thanks, Grady.”
“I wish you were my mom.”
I bite my lower lip, praying for the discipline to keep these damn tears at bay, but it’s no use.
“You don’t have to be,” he rushes out when he sees my watery gaze.
The tang of blood explodes across my tongue from biting it so hard.
How the hell does he expect me to keep my cool during a conversation like this?
Releasing a trembling breath, I rub my thumb along his hand and explain, “That’s not why I’m crying, Grady. I promise. I’m just pretty sure that’s the sweetest, most kind, and thoughtful thing anyone has ever said to me.”
“Oh.”
“I always wanted to be a mom. Did you know that?”
He shakes his head.
“Yup. And any mom would be lucky to call you their son. Your mom just didn’t understand what she had or how amazing being a mom is. That’s on her. Not on you.”
Chewing on his lower lip, he shrugs again. “I dunno.”
“I do. Trust me, Grady. I know it. I want you to know that I really love your dad, and if he’d let me….” I swallow back the lump in my throat. It’s not fair to make promises that I might not be able to keep. Not until I know where Owen and I stand. Not until I know whether or not Owen is planning on moving away and if he’ll be adamant about leaving me again or if he’ll be willing to let me tag along this time.
Tag along.
The words taste bitter.
Because I don
’t want that. I don’t want to tag along while he lives out his dream. I want to build a dream together. With me. And Owen. And Grady. And maybe a dog too. A big, fluffy one named…Fluffy, or Chewy, or Frodo, or some other nerdy reference to one of my favorite movies. But that means Owen needs to start communicating with me instead of making decisions without considering how they might affect those around him.
Me.
And Grady too.
Because Grady has a life here now. He has friends. He has a home. Doesn’t he deserve to have a say in his future? But it’s none of my business.
And it’s Owen.
Owen Daniels.
