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The exposed brick reminded me of Bella’s wine cellar. And the red lamp shades carried the same soft glow as the tables in the restaurant. I could probably write here the rest of the night if I gave my hands a mini-break and stretched my legs. I definitely didn’t need any more coffee.
Then I realized what time it was.
Shit.
It was close to nine o’clock. I reached for my phone, but remembered Jeremy and I hadn’t exchanged phone numbers. This was absurd. I didn’t have any way to text or call my husband. I quickly began to pack my laptop.
My phone startled me.
I looked down. Double shit. It was my mom.
Why hadn’t I called before now?
“Mama, hi,” I answered, cringing. I had to get this over with. One quick call and it would be done.
“How was your day off?” she asked.
“Good. It was really good.”
“I didn’t see the register report on my desk this morning. I didn’t want to call earlier. I thought you might want to sleep in and enjoy the day. Did you leave them somewhere? I can’t find them.”
I had been too preoccupied to run the register tallies last night. There were no reports. It was a miracle I had locked up Bella’s on the way out.
“Actually, I didn’t run through the close out.”
“Were the computers down?”
“No, no. Nothing like that.” I shook my head. I turned toward the wall of books behind me. Somehow this would be easier if I pretended no one could see me.
“Are you feeling ok? I can run some wedding soup over in a few minutes. Dad fell asleep on the couch watching the game. As soon as he starts snoring I’ll get some out of the freezer and I can drive it over.”
“No!” I quieted my voice. “I mean, no thank you. I don’t need wedding soup. I’m not sick, Mama. Forget about the freezer and the soup.”
“All right. I won’t bring any soup.”
She always got quiet like that when I hurt her feelings.
“Mama, I need to tell you something. And it’s not an easy thing for me to do. I’m struggling with how I’m going to say this. I didn’t mean to snap at you, but maybe it’s better Dad is asleep.”
“Are you ok?”
“Yes. Yes. I’m fine.”
“Then you can tell me. You scared me for a second. I thought something had happened to you.”
Should I start at the beginning? Did I tell her about the deal I made with Jeremy?
“Do you remember Jeremy Hartwell? I went to high school with him.”
“Of course I know him. He’s Sylvia Hartwell’s son. Everyone knows who he is, even though he seems to have forgotten where he came from. He hasn’t been to Newton Hills in ages.”
I rolled my eyes. She already had one strike against him. “I didn’t want to make a big deal about it, but we reconnected online. An old friends kind of thing.” I started with a lie and planned on ending with a version of the truth. It would make it easier for her, but I wasn’t sure it made it easier for me. “And things moved really quickly between us. I never said anything because I was afraid it was too good to be true. We were both surprised by how fast everything snowballed between us.” I sucked in a deep breath. “We eloped last night.”
“No.”
“It is sudden. I realize—”
“Marco! Marco, wake up,” she yelled at my father. He grumbled in the background. I pictured her poking him in the ribs until he was conscious. “Evelyn says she got married last night. Married.”
