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“That it is,” she agrees. “That it is.”
“It must’ve been hard for you and your husband to leave it.” She’d told me during our second conversation how Cain had taken over the family business, and doubled it within a few years of doing so, when her husband, Malcolm, wanted to retire.
“It was, but it was time for us to start our next adventure, which meant letting go of our past and starting our future.”
“My mom would’ve liked you,” I state, unaware I was going to say that until I hear them come from my mouth.
“And I her. I can tell she was a wonderful lady because of how well you turned out.” Such a simple kindness shouldn’t impact me so deeply, yet it does, especially as it’s coming from a woman that can easily be considered a stranger with sincerity. I dab at the tears threatening to escape. “Come now, dear,” she quietly urges, and we exit the pickup. As we climb the stairs and stand in front of the door, she knocks. “I hope you each forgive me and this works out for the best.” And with that confusing statement, it swings open and there stands a man that might as well be named Trouble, because that’s exactly what I’m in if he’s to be my boss.
**Cain**
“Hey, ma,” I say after stumbling to the door. I’d actually had an hour to take a quick nap, Mason’s orders, and had just stripped off my shirt and pulled on a pair of gray sweatpants when I heard the knock. Already half-asleep, it takes me longer than it should to realize she’s not alone. Usually, I’d feel bad for my lack of attire and manners, but the way the other woman’s eyes are fixed on my chest have me holding my tongue. Until mom begins her introduction.
“Signed, sealed, and delivered. She’s yours,” my mom exclaims. “Her name is Madelyn Rayne.” Beautiful name, though I think Remington sounds much better with it.
“Come again?” I finally get out as my brain kicks in.
“Your wife.”
“Say what now?” Madelyn wants to know.
“We talked about this, son,” Mom interjects.
“You said something about a housekeeper,” I mumble, struggling to remember the exact conversation.
“I knew you weren’t actually listening,” she hisses, yet it’s somehow with affection. “This is why you shouldn’t multitask,” she reprimands me, then turns to my wife – wait, why am I referring to her that way? – and tacks on, “and you should read the fine print before you sign anything.” As we try to process that, and nail down exactly how she made this happen, mom takes Madelyn’s hand and places it in mine. Is she really that concerned with the societal norms of greeting new people? This isn’t exactly a handshake situation. More like the give me a shot of whiskey and keep them coming kind.
Still, I can’t deny that she’s right as I wasn’t giving her my complete attention when we last talked. I’d kinda tuned her out as she talked about her garden, giving mmhmms and the like to give the impression I was focused on her. Then I realized it had been a while since my last one as my mind was tallying the supplies I needed to order, and she’d gone silent. She’d caught me, putting me on the defensive, and I’d quickly reassured her I was there and listening – forgive me for that lie. She bought it and, feeling guilty, when she asked if I agreed, I took a chance and said yes.
I knew I should’ve fessed up. It’s not as if she could ground me or anything, but I hate the thought of disappointing her or my dad. Speaking of…her needing my signature on what I thought were papers for her and dad. “I can’t believe you…”
Madelyn seems to be having her own epiphany. “Permanently Yours isn’t a temp-to-hire agency, is it?” With a satisfied gleam in her eyes, mom shakes her head no.
“This can’t be binding,” I chime in, talking directly to Madelyn who seems just as shocked as I am by my mom’s tactics.
“Oh, but it is,” Mom answers. “I checked.” Of course she did. I glance at Madelyn, trying to convey my regret for her getting tied up in this, except I can’t, and I know any attempt that comes through isn’t sincere.
Because I’m not sorry.
I should be.
But I’m not.
Silence ensues, two of us trying to understand what this all means while the third is so happy she’s practically jumping for joy. Any guesses on who that is? Rather than continue this discussion where we might be interrupted, I usher them inside. “After you, wife.” Madelyn’s mouth quirks up on one side, letting me know her humor is on par with mine. That bodes well for our compatibility.
She slides by me with the little space I allow, her bare shoulder brushing against my chest, sending a noticeable shiver through both of us. “Well then,” I hear come from her as she heads toward my mom’s voice, “things just got interesting.” I can’t resist chuckling as I think to myself just?
My parents told me they fell in love at first sight and while I’ve never believed in it personally – labeling their experience as an anomaly – I’m suddenly stuffed because I’m now eating my words.
Reaching the living room, I make two more discoveries. First, it’s clear my mom already has a soft spot for Madelyn, the affectionate smile that appears when she sees her shows me that. Second, she isn’t done maneuvering me and Madelyn like chess pieces yet. She’s claimed the recliner I usually veer toward, leaving the couch as the only option.
I swear, if I listen hard enough, I can hear her mentally thinking…checkmate.
The thing is, having just met his queen, this king doesn’t want to escape.
I wait for Madelyn to sit, then take my place by her side – as it should be – ensuring there’s some space between us, though perhaps not as much as she’d like. But I notice she doesn’t move to the right as she could. Not huge in the grand scheme of things, yet it feels like a win nonetheless.
“Seems you’ve been busy, Mom,” I throw out there, stating the obvious.
