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Peter grinned, his head tilting down to rest over the top of hers. “We’ve struck our daughter speechless.”
A gargle left me.
I sputtered.
I couldn’t. I could not.
Who were these people?
“Come on, honey.” Chrissy took pity and broke free from Peter’s hold. She came to me, her arm sliding around my waist, and she walked me up the stairs. “We’re going to have some much needed mother–daughter time right now.”
“Can I come?”
We paused.
Seraphina had skipped to the bottom of the stairs where we were. She was holding her iPad, her eyes all lit up and hopeful.
Chrissy tensed beside me.
I was the one who took pity now. “Give me a bit, Ser. There are some things Chrissy needs to talk to me about, so come up in thirty minutes? Yeah?”
She shot me a grin back. “Yeah! See you in thirty. Mother–daughter–sister time.”
I was melting. Full-out. My knees were going to become one with the floor.
Chrissy chuckled in my ear, her arm tightening around my waist. “Let’s go.” And once we were up a few steps, another chuckle. “You’re becoming such a softie.”
I shot her a look. “Like you aren’t? I barely recognize you.”
Then we were in my room. The door closed behind us and Chrissy headed for the couch. I perched on the end of the bed and we stared back and forth.
Hayes women did not like to get into heavy discussions—at least not with each other.
Chrissy sighed, scooting to the edge of the couch and sitting with her shoulders up, her head up, as if she were taking tea with the English queen herself. I half expected a teacup and saucer to appear and her little finger to curl in the air.
Me, I grabbed a pillow, because my gut was flaring and I wasn’t sure what was coming my way.
This.
This, whatever Chrissy was about to say, was why half of her spark was gone.
I knew it, and I didn’t want to know it, but then she said it.
“We’re in trouble.”
See. There.
I so fucking didn’t want to know it.
I shoved down a knot and nodded. “Okay. Tell me what’s going on.”
A tear slipped from her eye.
“I’m in love with your father.”
FORTY-FOUR
That was not what I’d been expecting.
“Say what?”
“I’m in love with your father.” She waited, as if she’d made a huge announcement, like she had gotten the codes for the nuclear weapons and was filling me in on the secret. Granted, I wasn’t sure how I was feeling about this either, but it wasn’t the end-of-the-world stuff I’d been dealing with lately.
“Okay.”
Her eyebrows shot up, and fast. “Okay? Okay? That’s all I get? Just ‘Okay’?”
I scooted back more firmly on the bed. Another one or two exclamations like that and I’d be falling off the bed. “I mean, I know you were sleeping with each other. You came to me, offering to go back to Brookley. I could tell you were scared. I didn’t really analyze it, but now I can see why you were scared.” I motioned to her. “Because you were falling in love with him.”
Thinking about today, I added, “And if he hasn’t said the words, it looks like he feels the same.”
Her mouth thinned. “Your very nonresponse response is pissing me off.”
I grinned. “I told him to treat you right, Mom.”
The “Mom” did it. Her lips parted, then curved up.
I continued, “You either cut and run, which is what you suggested, or you dig in and start growing roots. I didn’t go, and you never ran, so yeah. It makes sense that’s where you’re at now, just as long as he treats you right.” I was stepping back into our more normal roles, because I took on the motherly tone. “I’d highly suggest counseling. For both of you.”
“Why?” Her eyes got big.
“Because he has a problem with women. You both should do counseling. It’s a smart idea to work out the bugs before really getting too deep.” But she was already too deep, and I clamped my mouth shut, really getting it now.
She’d said the l-word. That was deep for us Hayeses.
“We’re in counseling. I thought you were saying for a specific reason.”
Oh, whoa again.
“You’re in counseling?”
She nodded. “We’ve been for a month. It’s the only way I’d commit to anything long term—besides, you know, the sex.”
Cringe.
“Mom.” I closed my eyes.
“What? You just talked about it yourself.”
“Yeah. In a very clinical way. Hearing it from your mom, and the little happy sigh at the end of that word, was not what I needed to hear.”
She was smiling. She didn’t care.
Maybe it was a point I didn’t need to fight about. I still didn’t know how I felt about it. I was assuming I’d watch, over the next day, to see, and then think on it. But I really didn’t need to think on it. They were moving forward, and anything I had to say wouldn’t be heard anyway. So yes. I was just going to keep quiet and observe, then pick up the pieces if or when it fell apart.
