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She looks back at me with a puzzled expression and I shake my head.
“Oh,” she says, pulling away. She doesn’t even need me to say it. A mother’s intuition always knows. “Well, come inside. It’s cold out here.”
She pulls me inside and I leave my shit in the trunk for now.
Inside I sit down at the small kitchen table. It seems even smaller now that I’ve been gone. The whole place is miniscule. But it’s home.
She bustles about the kitchen and hands me a cup of hot chocolate. We used to have hot chocolate every Christmas Eve and stay up watching all our favorite movies.
My mom might’ve been young when she had me, but she was the best mom ever. Still is.
She sits down across from me. “Tell me what happened. It must’ve been bad if you’re here.”
I groan, rubbing my hands over my face, but I open my mouth and fill her in.
By the time I reach the end, telling her what I told Mia, how I …lefther, I begin to cry. I don’t even remember the last time I cried.
My mom gets up, coming around the table, and wraps her arms around me. I cry against her and when I compose myself, I ask her, “What do I do, Ma?”
It’s been so long since my mother was the one I went to for advice. Probably too long, because if there’s anyone in this world with the wisdom I usually need it would be my mom.
“What does your heart tell you?” She holds my face between her hands like she did when I was small.
“I can’t listen to it,” I confess. “She’s better off without me.”
“You’re wrong, baby boy. You’re so wrong.” I swear tears shimmer in her eyes. “You have a beautiful soul and she’s lucky to have you love her, just as you’re lucky to have her. You know you did wrong.”
“But her dad—”
“Is a dad. He’s a parent. He’s protective. What did you expect? He’ll calm down, they’ll talk, they’ll forgive, and she’ll still love you.”
I try to pull my face from her hands, but she refuses. She just holds on tighter, trying to force me to see sense.
“I can’t see how things will ever be good between him and me—I didn’t listen to him. I couldn’t stay away from her. If I’m to be with Mia, how can I expect her to deal with that kind of animosity?”
“Then fix it,” she tells me. “Go to him. Explain how you feel about her—he’ll see the truth in your eyes, and he won’t be able to deny you. There’s a lot to be said for being honest. I think too many people have forgotten that.”
“I don’t know if I can go back. Not after how I left things.”
“If you wait too long you won’t be able to,” she admits. “You have to decide—do you want to live the rest of your life without the girl you love, or do you want to experience a joy so few ever truly find?” She rubs my cheek, her fingers grazing over the nasty bruise Hayes left there. “I take it he gave you this?” She raises a brow.
“It’s no less than I deserved.”
“Why are you determined to convince yourself you’re not good enough for her? That you somehowdeservethis?” Again, she gently touches the bruise.
“Because it’s the truth. I slept with women left and right. I used them. I drank too much. I partied too hard. I lost myself. I didn’t know who I was anymore not until…”
“Not until her,” she finishes for me. “She reminded you of who you’ve always been.Thisis you. This is my Hollis, the boy I raised to be a brilliant, loving, kind and caring man. Are you really going to give it all up, a future, because of one incident? Because that’s not the boy I raised. My boy is a fighter, he goes after what he wants and doesn’t give up. He would never cower so easily.”
I wince. She’s right. Iambeing a coward. Mia told me the same thing.
“I just want her to be happy,” I confess.
Her voice is soft, tired sounding. “Why do you think you’re not her happiness?”
CHAPTER33
MIA
