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“Of course you’re scared, and he probably is, too. Honestly, I’d be surprised if you both weren’t. Risking everything for love is always brave. But risking everything for love a second time? If you ask me, that’s the bravest thing of all.”
“Thank you, Mom.” She put her arms around her mom and hugged her close. “For always understanding. For not ever judging. And for listening and being here whenever I’ve needed you. Even though Trent and I are still trying to work things out and nothing is totally certain yet about our future, I didn’t want you and Dad to find out that we were dating again from someone else first. Especially since I can’t seem to be able to stop myself from kissing him, even if we’re in public.”
“I feel just the same way about your father,” her mother said, “even after all these years. But while lust is easy, lasting love—the kind that carries you through illness and hard times and pulls you through to the other side even stronger than you were before—that takes work.”
Reese could hardly believe her conservative mother had used the word lust.
“Now, honey. Don’t look at me like I just dropped the F-bomb. I’m a woman. I know all about lust.”
“I’m not sure I want to talk about this with you.” Reese was only half teasing. “I like thinking about you as my proper mother who doesn’t think about that.”
“Well, that would make me rather boring, wouldn’t it?” Her mother smiled.
“Not that I don’t appreciate you being willing to share your thoughts on…that...but there is something else I wanted to ask you about. You and Dad have a perfect marriage. You’re always together, and he’s always put our family ahead of work and everything else in his life. How did you get to that point?”
“We do have a rather ideal marriage, but it’s still a give-and-take. Trust me, we’ve had our moments. It wasn’t always easy for your father to put us first. He missed out on a few promotions, but family was always important to him. To both of us.” She paused before admitting, “I might have enjoyed a little more zest and spontaneity. A few unscheduled dinners and impromptu date nights. Marriages should have a little wiggle room, not be so structured. Enjoy the moments as they come.”
“Wiggle room,” Reese repeated, chewing on the thought.
“For my generation, dinner on the table and reading the newspaper together was what we were brought up with. But your generation is different. More lively. Dinners out are more commonplace. So is getting together with friends, going on outings and changing your destination midway. Those are all wonderful things. I can count on one hand the number of times we’ve done that. We’ve lived our lives on trolley car tracks and it’s mostly been wonderful. But for you? I think you should allow wiggle room. And not just on the day-to-day things. Because no matter how much you want to get things perfect this second time around, you’re probably not always going to get things exactly right. A little wiggle room to make mistakes and then fix them would probably help take the pressure off of both of you.”
“Thank you, Mom. For everything.”
As Reese left and headed for the resort where she was planning to work on the mural for a few hours today, she found herself continuing to think about what her mother had said. Everything Reese and Trent had done together as a couple was spontaneous—except when it came to their marriage. Had she expected too much, too regimented of a life together, with set expectations of when he’d arrive home from work and how their life would play out? And wasn’t her mother right that now she was so scared of things going wrong again that she was expecting perfection out of both her and Trent?
Wiggle room. Definitely something worth considering.
Chapter Twenty
TRENT SAT AT a table at the Hideaway with Derek, who had just spent the last ten minutes griping about trying to run his masonry and building business in Boston from the island. When his brother pushed his sleeves up, Trent noticed a bandage by his elbow.
“What did you do this time?” Derek was an adrenaline junkie. The bigger the risk, the more gratifying the thrill. Cuts and bruises came with the territory.
“I had a run-in with a rock when I was hang gliding. But it was nothing. Only seven stitches.”
“Did you have Didi stitch it up?” Trent cocked a brow. “She’s a hell of a lot better with a needle than the doctor at the local clinic,” Derek replied, before saying, “So…you and Reese? You’re a thing again?”
Trent had been planning to tell his brother—and the rest of his family—today. But he had a guess who had already planted the seed in his brother’s head.
