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“Drink?” he asks once he disappears into the room again.
“Wine works. There’s an open bottle in the fridge.” I lie back, but my bubbles are starting to dissipate, and the hot water is now only warm. I won’t be in much longer at this rate.
He returns, setting the glass on the small table next to the tub, and then asks, “Want me to open it since you’re wet?”
“Yes, please.” I take the glass and a large sip. It’s weird that this feels different. We get invitations all the time, but this doesn’t feel like a charity or event to attend. It’s personal.
He pulls a flat card from the envelope and scans it, glances at me, and then exhales. Rubbing his hand over his head, he looks back at me, and says, “If you weren’t already sitting down—”
“What is it? Who’s it from?”
“Liz.”
The glass bangs against the side of the tub in my rush to sit up. “My mom?” I ask, knowing exactly who Liz is.
Turning the card to face me, he points at the signature. “Elizabeth Shaw.”
I squint to read it from across the bathroom. “What does it say?”
Reading over it again, he replies, “She’s inviting you to dinner.”
“When? Where?” I set the glass down and grab a towel when I stand.
Harbor’s gaze travels from my knees to my eyes and then returns to the card. Though a mischievous glint appears when he sneaks another look at me. “You’re very distracting.”
I roll my eyes because I can say the same about him, and have, many times. He offers me a hand when I step out of the tub. With the towel wrapped around me, I lean against him and read the card for myself.
“I didn’t even know if she was alive.” I wander into the bedroom to get dressed. “This is a lot to process.”
“There’s no request to reply. She’s telling you where she’ll be and at what time, but it’s up to you what you choose to do with that information.”
“I have until Friday night to decide.”
“Three days.”
“Three days to decide if I want to see the woman who abandoned me or move on with my life.”
Three days to decide if I put a bow on that part of my life by not going.
Three days to get the closure I’ve wanted since she walked out the door.
Three days that will change the rest of my life forever.
Three days to decide . . .
* * *
I look back once moreat Harbor.
He mouths, “You got this,” from the car before he pulls away from the restaurant.
I can do this.
It’s no big deal. Just meeting your mother for the first time since she left you.
No biggie at all.
I picked comfort over trying to impress anyone. Wearing dark jeans and a jacket over a tank top, I look down at my penny loafers, suddenly feeling underdressed for this restaurant.Too late now.
