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“Why not?”
“Until three days ago, I hadn’t seen her since I was nineteen and leaving high school. Just because I’ve been carrying a torch for someone for that long doesn’t mean I can show up after all this time and express my undying love for her. It isn’t like we dated back then, and she could possibly be carrying the same torch for me. I’m just lucky that she isn’t already married with a few kids.”
“She’s one special woman. The way she stepped up and took things over for her parents wasn’t lost on the community. Everyone rallied behind them when Danielle suffered her stroke, and that support spilled over to making sure Harper had enough business to keep the bakery open.”
“Why didn’t anyone ever tell me what had happened? I could have donated enough to cover any of the expenses.”
“Your mother and I discussed it many times. We knew that there was some history there between you and Harper and I had a feeling it had something to do with you not wanting to return home. When things were really bad for the Taylors, it was around the time you’d just sold the app and were also dealing with everyone calling you with their hand held out, hoping you’d fork over a chunk of money. While we knew that you would have done it without even a second thought, we planned on waiting to tell you about it until things had calmed down a bit. After a while, it just didn’t seem like the right time; the major fundraising pushes had passed and it would have been harder for you to make an anonymous donation and, until you returned, I didn’t think you’d want it known that the money was from you. Don’t worry too much, we’ve donated a good amount on your behalf, so it isn’t like we’ve done nothing as a family.”
“I can understand your reasoning, but I can still hate the fact that all of this was kept from me for so long.”
“Looking back, I can see now that we should have told you, let you decide for yourself, but we can’t go back and change the past, we can only look to the future. Now, you have to decide how you move forward.”
“I’ve got this week, so I’m going to make the most out of it.”
“That’s my boy,” Dad says.
I hang around for a while longer, stepping away long enough to go back inside and take a quick shower and change into clean clothes, as well as pack an overnight bag. By the time I’m done, Mom has a small lasagna all prepped and ready for me to take over to Harper’s place.
“Think I can convince you to bring Harper over here for dinner tomorrow night?” Mom asks.
“Maybe, I’ll ask her tonight.”
“Let me know, we’d love to have the both of you over,” Mom states.
I hang out for another half-hour or so, listening as Mom fills me in on what’s going on with her different groups and everything that she does to keep busy these days.
* * *
Ten minutesafter I pull out of my parents’ driveway, I’m pulling into Harper’s. I cut the engine, then reach over and grab the bag Mom sent me with.
Just like yesterday, as soon as my feet hit the porch, the door opens, and I find a smiling Harper waiting to greet me. “Hello,” she states, and I don’t miss the way her eyes rake down my body.
“Evening, ma’am,” I greet, exaggerating the southern drawl that I definitely don’t use on a daily basis. “I brought a home-cooked meal, just needs to spend the next thirty or so minutes in the oven to finish it off.”
“Well then, come in. Is that your momma’s cooking?” she questions.
“Sure is. She practically balked at the idea of me picking up something on my way over here tonight.”
“That was very kind of her. I’ve always loved her food when I’ve had the chance to have any.”
“Speaking of her cooking, she asked if I’d bring you over for dinner tomorrow night.”
“Oh!” she says, sounding a little shocked. “I guess, I don’t have anything else going on, so that’d work.”
“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” I assure her. “I know this is all so fast, and we’re just…” I trail off, realizing we’re not really anything other than two adults enjoying each other’s company. “Whatever we are, I’ll just tell her it will have to wait,” I throw out.
I slide the dish into the oven, setting the timer for thirty minutes as instructed by my mom.
“I’d be fine with going to your parents’ house for dinner tomorrow night. It isn’t like I don’t already know them just as well as everyone else in this town,” she says, sliding a hand up my chest. I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her in tight against my body.
“You’d be doing me a huge favor by going. When Mom brought it up, she was very excited about it.”
“Then I’ll be there. I love your mom, and her cooking is to die for.”
“Then I’ll pick you up; what time will you be home?” I ask.
“Hopefully by four, so can we do ten-till five? That gives me time to come home and shower and change, first.”
