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And in thirty-odd years together, Mama and I against the world, we’d always told the truth, even when painful, even when it risked our powerful connection and bond.
“Avery’s not just another coworker.” As soon as the words left my mouth, a deep relief washed over me. If nothing else, the truth was freeing, weeks of half-truths and avoidances having exhausted me more than I’d realized. “Avery’s…special.”
“I see.” Eyes confused, she pursed her mouth. But she didn’t see, not really, and it was up to me to show her, to put a voice to the most transformative few weeks in my life, to explain to both of us.
“Avery…he’s funny. He makes me laugh. I haven’t laughed so much in years. And I can tell him anything. I’m having fewer nightmares, and he makes sure I take my meds. Even has alarms for me on his phone. He brings me scarves and shares his gloves and lets me fuss over him too. He tries whatever food whim I have, and when he looks at me…” I paused my word spew to blink against the burning in my eyes. “Man. The way he looks at me. He’s not just special. He’s everything.”
“Well.” My mother made the one word take a good three seconds as she stared at a spot on the wall above me, the world’s longest pause. Whatever she said next could cut me off at the knees, but it wouldn’t change the truth of my words, how much I’d needed to tell her. One breath turned into five, then finally, we exhaled at precisely the same moment, identical sounds, same hand motions.
We both chuckled uneasily, then she dropped her gaze back to my face, her eyes softening as she shook her head. “This is…unexpected.”
“Yeah.” My throat was loofah rough. “For me too.”
“I imagine.” Glancing away, she poured me water from the pitcher on the rolling table, then held the cup for me to drink before settling back into her chair. And taking my hand.
Just that.
She didn’t seem to have words, and I’d run out of them as well, but maybe we didn’t need conversation. Sitting there, silently holding hands, her polished nails against my palm, familiar rings imprinting against my fingers, breathing together in rhythm, I could believe we’d make it through this.
And that was enough.
We continued to sit quietly, but eventually, my attention strayed from her face to a movement in the hall. A shadow, then light, then shadow again, like someone advancing and retreating. And I wasn’t sure how I knew, but I did.
“Avery,” I called, summoning as much of my lieutenant tone as possible, given the pain. “Come in here.”
There he was, beloved face appearing in the doorway. He was rumpled, sweaty, and sooty, jeans torn, western shirt askew, and he’d never looked better. He was here. He’d come. Everything else could figure itself out.
“I…uh…” His voice shook, and his features were tight with fear as his eyes flitted between my mother and me. “Don’t want to interrupt…”
“Come meet my mother.” I made it an order before he could escape back to the hall. “I was just telling her all about you.”
“You were?” His voice went up precipitously, fear giving way to a terror in his eyes that damn near broke my heart.
“Only good things, darling.” Ever the gracious hostess, my mother stood, grabbing Avery’s left arm at the door, steering him into the chair at my bedside. “Here, you take the chair.”
“I can’t—” He tried to protest, but my mother was far stronger than she looked, and she pushed on his shoulder until he had no choice but to sit.
“You look dead on your feet, darling. What have you eaten? No, don’t tell me, you’re fine.” She shook a finger at Avery before collecting her shawl and tote bag. “I believe coffee is in order. I’m going to go hunt down a dirty chai for me. And two muffins. Yes, I think it’s certainly a muffin morning.”
Only the speed of her chatter revealed her unease, and I doubted Avery picked up on anything other than her whirlwind of energy.
“Thank you, Mama.” I tried to catch her gaze to tell her how much I meant that on multiple levels. “Avery isn’t much on coffee, so make his something sweet and light. Think you could sneak a coffee in for me?”
“We’ll see,” she said archly, back in bossy mother mode. “Doctor’s orders only. You’re the patient. I’ll be back.”
Avery waited until she shut the door with a soft click to speak. “She’s…did that just happen? Your mom is bringing me a muffin? After you told her about me?”
“She’s something else.” Smiling warmly at him, I held out a hand. “It’s going to be okay, baby. I promise. I told her that you were special.”
“I am?” Avery didn’t sound convinced and didn’t take my offered hand. My empty stomach churned with the very real possibility that talking to Avery would be harder than my conversation with my mom, with an even murkier outcome.
