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I pulled back and wiped my eyes, shaking my head. “I’m sorry. I-”
“Hush,” Amy responded and touched my cheek lightly. “Look at you. So grown up, so beautiful. I’m so proud of you.”
Knox ushered us away from the front door so that he could close it and she immediately started ordering him around, telling him to turn up the lights and get her a glass of wine. She pulled me down onto the couch with her and demanded that I tell her all about New York. She gave me the third degree, asking about my job, boyfriends and, inevitably, the stalker.
I shot a glance at Knox, silently scolding him for telling her about what happened. He sheepishly looked away.
After explaining what I went through and how the police weren’t really doing much to help Amy gave me an exasperated look. “Nothing? They’re doing nothing? You give me this detective’s number and let me have a little chat with him.”
I laughed, more than appreciating her fierce, mother hen instincts. “Actually…” I started before taking a deep breath. “I’m doing okay. I think being home has been good for me.”
Amy reached over and covered her hand with mine. She looked up at Knox, who was sitting on the edge of the coffee table, and then back at me. “I think so, too. My son isn’t such a moody bastard when you’re around.”
I laughed and Knox groaned, hanging his head. “Mom, don’t do that. You’re just as bad as Simone.”
Her eyes lit up, “Oh! Simone! She’s such a gem, isn’t she? You know, I’ve always loved that girl. She’s always been such a good friend…” and then she was off, rattling on about all the good friends Knox and I had growing up and the ones we still had now.
I looked over at Knox and found him watching me, a small smile tugging at his mouth as Amy rambled on and on, completely oblivious to the fact that her son and I were making heart eyes at each other.
You’re cute, he mouthed at me and let one eye drop into a slow, sexy wink.
You’re not, I mouthed back and he bit back a laugh before shaking his head.
I want you, he mouthed a few moments later while Amy rummaged through her purse for some photos of the house. She’d begun to remodel and wanted to show off the new paint job in the living room.
I shook my head, my cheeks flaming. He absolutely could not say- or mouth- things like that to me while we were in the same room as his mother.
Soon enough, I was getting exhausted and so was she. Knox was getting ready to walk her out when she waved her hand in his face and then hooked a slim arm through mine. “Absolutely not. My daughter will walk me out and you’ll stay here and wash those dishes.”
I bit my lip and held back a laugh while she scolded her twenty seven year old son on the importance of clean dishes. I walked her out, our arms hooked as we made our way down the driveway to her car. It was such a throwback, spending time with Amy Fitzgerald, laughing and joking the way we used to when I was a kid. She’d taken me under her wing as soon as Knox and I got together, bringing me to get my prom dress and looking over my report cards and helping me study for finals. Whenever I envisioned the “perfect” mother it was her face that came to mind.
“Amy,” I said as we stood on the sidewalk. “I… I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I wasn’t here for any of-”
“Stop it,” she said immediately. “You had to go live your life, Abby. No one holds that against you. Not me and especially not my son.”
“I know. I just wish I’d been here when John… when he… when he-”
“When John died,” she said firmly, without blinking. She sighed and shook her head before she spoke again. “John gave me the best thirty four years of my life. He gave me a beautiful son, unforgettable memories. A beautiful life,” her eyes got misty and my heart constricted. “But dying is a part of life, my dear. You can’t predict it and you can’t stop it. You just have to enjoy the time you have on this earth and you try to make it count for something.”
Amy always knew the right thing to say, but this wasn’t just the right thing to say. It was the truth. We would never know when our time was up. Hell, I thought mine was up when I was alone and broken in my apartment. All we could do was try to live our lives to the fullest and love fiercely. Unconditionally.
“John was my person,” she said as she opened her car door and threw her purse in. Turning around, she reached out and squeezed my hand. “Everyone has a person, honey,” she looked over my shoulder and I turned too, seeing Knox standing in the doorway. “Everyone.”
Knox, being the gentleman that he was, walked me to the door with our fingers laced. He pressed kisses to my cheek and temple, his feet dragging as though he was reluctant to let me go which, believe me, did wonders to my already swooning inner teenage girl.
“When do I get to see you again?” he asked at the door.
I smiled and turned to him. “When do you want to see me again?”
“Tomorrow,” he said immediately and we both laughed.
I shook my head and leaned up, pressing myself against him. His hair was disheveled and the top two buttons of his shirt were undone. I, being the ever classy woman, was ready to let him fuck me up against the door.
“If you want me to leave then you’re gonna have to stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you want your hair wrapped around my fist and my cock in your mouth,” Knox responded matter of factly.
