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She’s wearing the dress she had on at the Black’s cocktail party the night she was arrested, and although it’s a little incongruous on a Wednesday afternoon, it’s such a fucking relief not to see her in orange that I almost burst into tears.
Linc’s arms release me, and before I even give my legs the command to move, I’m walking toward her, then I’m running, and she’s running toward me. We practically knock each other over when we collide, but I don’t fucking care because it’s my mom, and I’m hugging her, I’m finally hugging her after way too long.
She’s laughing and crying at the same time, and I can feel her body shaking against mine. I pet her hair and press my face into the crook of her neck, breathing in her soft scent.
Mom.
She’s back.
She’s free.
We keep almost letting go and then clinging to each other again, and when she finally pulls back, she cups my face in her hands, her cheeks flushed and stained with tears.
“Let me look at you,” she whispers.
Even though we just saw each other a few days ago, I know what she means.
This is the first time in months we’ve seen each other without a plexiglass partition separating us, and it’s like a fucking veil has been lifted. I can see the little flecks of amber that dapple her brown irises, can see the small laugh lines around her eyes, the flyaway strands of dark hair that frame her face.
She’s beautiful.
And when I tell her so, she throws back her head and laughs. Then she wraps her arm around my waist, securing me tightly against her, and turns toward the two waiting cars and the four boys gathered around them.
“Come on. Let’s go say hello to your fellas.”
Mom’s step is light, and I feel a sort of manic, exuberant energy radiating from her that makes me think she could run all the way back to the Black’s house without even breaking a sweat right now, as if just being outside the prison walls has given her a massive shot of adrenaline.
Maybe some people would hold on to their bitterness and anger after the kind of shit she’s been through. But that’s never really been Mom’s style. She looks forward, not back, and even though she has ups and downs, she always come back to hope in the end.
Lincoln, River, Dax, and Chase all step forward as we approach. They’re grinning, all of them happy to see me so happy, and when we reach them, I disentangle from my mom and stand between her and them to make the introductions.
“I think you’ve all met before, and I know you know Linc, Mom. But these are the—the guys I’ve been seeing.”
I curse myself for the little hiccup in my voice. Generally speaking, I don’t give a shit if people look at us strangely when we’re all out together, trying to figure out which guy I’m with before slowly realizing I haven’t picked just one of them. But I do care what my mom thinks.
“Of course I remember Lincoln.” Mom smiles at him, then shifts her gaze to the others. “And it’s nice to officially meet the rest of you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
That’s true. Mom and I have had several long talks in the aftermath of Hollowell’s death. Finally free to tell her everything without fear of reprisal, I spilled my guts about all of it, not stopping until my voice was hoarse and my lips dry.
Hearing about everything that’d been going on shocked and scared her, and it took a lot of reassuring to convince her that it really was over, that I was no longer in danger.
I worried that on top of being weirded out about me dating four guys, Mom would blame them for what happened—hell, I did at first. But the truth is, they’ve done more to keep me safe than I could’ve ever asked of them, lifting me up and giving me hope and support when I needed it.
And I hope she sees that too.
She and the guys talk for a few minutes, and I slip between Lincoln and Dax as they do. I can feel Mom’s gaze bouncing back and forth between me and them, and I think it’s this, more than anything else, that wins her over.
I can feel it, and maybe she can see it: the way their bodies shift toward mine as if constantly pulled closer by an invisible force, the way they seem to arrange themselves around me unconsciously, protective and attentive.
A smile blooms across Mom’s face, different than the one she wore when she first greeted them. This one is softer and sweeter, a reaction to some private thought. She casts her gaze over the guys one more time, then claps her hands together, straightening her shoulders.
“All right. What do you say we get the hell out of here?”
* * *
Mom and I both move back into the Black family’s house.
Samuel’s offer to give her back her Executive Housekeeper position when she got out seems like a promise made a lifetime ago, but he apparently hasn’t forgotten about it.
