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“What is it?”
“Call My Agent. It’s French. Like a mixture of you and me. You’re the agent and I love France.” She looked so happy and he liked that.
A lot.
“Oh. It’s a series.” She blinked. “There are a lot of episodes.
“Doesn’t matter. We can watch it.”
She turned to look at him, her tongue pressing between her teeth. “We can’t watch it in one night.”
“What a shame. I’ll just have to come back to you night after night.”
She smiled. “I don’t hate the sound of that.”
ChapterFifteen
“She’s a little tired today,”the nurse said to Michael a week later, as she helped his mom out of the treatment room the following week. “But she refuses to get into a wheelchair.”
“I’m fine. I just felt a bit dizzy, that’s all.” Mia rolled her eyes. “Thank you, Rhona.”
“You take it easy. Rest up.” Rhona’s eyes met Michael’s. “Take care of her.”
“I intend to.”
He helped his mom out to the car. The fresh air seemed to waken her, and she asked if they could sit on the bench near the parking lot before they got into the car for the long drive home.
“I love days like these,” she said, looking up at the blue sky. “The sun makes everything happier.” She put her hand on his. “You seem happier, too.”
“I do?” Michael lifted a brow.
“Yes. I’m so glad you’ve reconnected with your old friends. They’ve brought out the best in you. You should invite them over to ours. I’d love to meet them.”
Guilt pulled at him. He’d been using his non-existent friends as an excuse to see Grace every moment that he could.
“For a while I wondered if you’d found a woman friend,” his mom said, her voice light. Great. She was wide awake now. “Or maybe that was just wishful thinking. Hoping that you’d find somebody you cared for enough that you’d stay nearby.”
“My home is in London, Mom. And there’s nobody.”
“There’s still time.” Her eyes twinkled.
“I thought we’d had this conversation.”
“We have. But it didn’t come to any satisfactory conclusion.” She sighed. “Anyway, you’re here now and that’s the main thing.” She smiled softly at him. “You’re coming toChairsthis week, aren’t you?”
“Yep.” This weekend was the one he’d planned with Grace. In Charleston. They’d travel up late Friday night afterChairs– because they’d agreed it would be good to be seen there – separately. “But I have to leave early. I’m heading straight to Charleston after, remember?”
She blinked. “I’m tired, not brain dead. Of course I remember. Though I don’t understand why you have to have meetings on the weekend.”
It wasn’t the best excuse in the world. But his job always had strange hours, thank goodness.
“It’s a client. They’re having a thing.” He shrugged. “You know I always work weekends.”
“I’m proud of you.” She squeezed his hand again. “When football didn’t work out, I was so scared you’d be broken. But you picked yourself up and fought back. Got a career you so obviously love.”
“I learned that from my mom.”
Her eyes softened.
