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“You’re on,” her mother said before turning to her. “Can you help me?”
“My pleasure,” Whitney said, and she sent a grateful look to Trent.
What would she ever do without him?
…
After every visit to see Whitney’s mom, Trent always felt the tug of guilt at not seeing his own mother often enough. As the only male child out of five, he always teased that he was his mother’s favorite. And she always retorted that he would lose that place of honor if he didn’t start visiting more. He was the only one living in Blue Moon Bay, so there were no excuses.
After grabbing two pumpkin spice lattes from Delicious Delicacies, he headed next door to his mother’s shop, Frankie’s Fabrics. She’d owned the fabric store on Main Street since before he was born. As a kid, Halloween had always been a favorite of his. His mother would bring him and his sisters into the store as soon as the festive prints arrived before putting them out on shelves, and they’d each pick out their costume pattern and fabric. And she’d also make them Halloween pajamas for after trick-or-treating.
“Hello, hello!” he called as he entered the shop. He saw several women perusing the patterns and a few others matching colors to wall paint samples.
His mother’s head was barely visible above a tall stack of Halloween fabrics on the cutting table. “You better have caffeine,” she said.
He laughed as he carefully handed her a cup over the fabric pile. “Would I dare visit without it?” From September until January, his mother’s shop was hectic. Other times during the year, things were steady, but it was the last quarter sales that essentially kept the small shop in business.
His mother took a big gulp and shot him a grateful look. “Thank you! I was about to text Jess for a delivery.” Trent loved that two of his favorite people had shops side by side. He knew Jess was like another daughter to his mom, as his cousin had spent a lot of time at their home while her antique-dealer parents traveled the world, looking for treasures to sell in their own local shop. It also made him feel better knowing Jess was nearby in case his mother needed anything. She was in good health in her early sixties, but after watching Lydia’s health decline so quickly, he knew how fast things could change.
He scanned the fabrics. “Need some help?”
“Grab those scissors to your right,” his mother said, repositioning her glasses on the edge of her nose.
Trent grabbed them, set his own coffee down away from the material, and got to work. Each stack of fabric had the order pinned to it. Customer name and amount they needed. He knew his mother always cut 10 percent more, because she claimed everyone always underestimated how much they really needed. Of course, she charged them for what they’d initially ordered and they were none the wiser.
She took a secret pleasure whenever they’d come in and report they’d had “just enough,” never revealing her secret.
Trent knew how to cut fabric, having helped her in the shop over the years.
“So, good news,” he said. “We have colors.”
His mother’s eyes predictably lit up as she turned her attention toward him. She pulled out a stool and sat, allowing him to work while she watched. “Really? That’s progress.”
He nodded. He wouldn’t tell his mother that he called bullshit on it being progress and more that Whitney had felt trapped into giving him an answer about something. His mother loved Whitney and was so excited about the wedding. His mom was concerned about Whitney lately, just like everyone else, and he wanted to try to ease her mind a little. And a part of him was grasping at the hope that this one decision might lead to others.
“What are they?” Frankie asked, sipping the latte.
“Light blue and silver.”
His mother immediately shook her head, disappointment in her expression. “Those are Sarah’s colors. She’s already selected the bridesmaid dress fabric and is planning on a winter wedding. She and Wes already have a date.”
Damn. He knew it. He forced a laugh. “Well, then scratch that. We don’t have colors.” He cut along the length of fabric with a friendly ghost pattern on it and avoided his mother’s thoughtful gaze. “Sarah and Wes already have a date, huh?”
He was happy for his friends, and with the pregnancy the year before, they’d pushed off their wedding date, but it made sense they’d get to the altar first. They were so much in love. Sarah was an amazing mom to Wes’s daughter from a previous marriage, and the new family was picture-perfect, running an event center out of the B&B together and Wes’s construction company thriving.
“January first,” Frankie said. “I’m surprised Whitney didn’t tell you.”
“I’m sure she just forgot. She’s got a lot happening at work.” More likely she hadn’t wanted to tell him for fear of it spiking a new conversation about a wedding date of their own.
He could tell his mother was biting her tongue, holding back a similar comment. He appreciated her ability to know when he didn’t need any more doubt added to his own thoughts. “Hey, so I found a possible location for the third bar,” he said, tying a piece of string around the cut fabric and reattaching the order slip.
“Already? Wow. The Game Room location just opened a couple of years ago.” He heard a note of caution in her voice. He knew she was worried about him expanding too much too quickly, but truth was, his bar was the only thing besides his relationship that he’d been truly passionate about since he gave up weight lifting. Working out, competing had been an addiction, and giving it up had been difficult. It had left a huge gap in his life. The bar—and Whitney—had filled that gap.
He feared losing both…and the impact that would have on him.
“But it’s doing great.”
“That’s wonderful, honey,” his mother said supportively. “I can’t wait to see it.” Break over, she jumped off the stool and got back to work beside him. “I was thinking family dinner next Sunday? We haven’t all gotten together in a while. Kara will be back from college on break, and I’m inviting your other sisters and their families, as the kids are on some school holiday on Monday. They won’t have to rush back to the city. You and Whitney free?”
