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He followed them into the study, where his mother pulled out one gardening book after another and handed them to Tiffany with explanations of why each was important. He knew his mother had highlighted chapters and made notes in the margins, as she did with everything she read. Including novels. He loved watching them together, but it was the intense and needy look in Tiffany’s eyes that brought him to her side, sensing she was, in fact, thinking about the mother she’d never had a chance to really get to know.
They took the books into the kitchen and Dylan whispered in her ear, “Are you okay?”
She nodded, and he knew she was too full of emotion to respond.
His mother busied herself making iced tea as Tiffany leafed through the books. “Wow, you’ve made notes everywhere.”
“It’s kind of my thing.” She set the glasses on the table and pointed to the pantry. “Dylan, honey, why don’t you grab some cheese and crackers and put them on a plate? I’m sure you guys are hungry.”
“Sure, Mom.”
“Tell me, Tiffany,” she said, taking the chair beside her. “What are your hobbies? What are you passionate about?”
Dylan’s ears perked up, and he glanced at Tiffany, who was looking at him like he was not only part of the answer—but her entire world.
TIFFANY COULDN’T HAVE stopped the truth from coming if her life depended on it. “I’ve always been a huge sports fan, and to be honest, until I met Dylan I never really slowed down enough to think about what else I liked. But your son has a way of opening people’s eyes.” It was easy to see why Dylan was so nurturing and accommodating. He’d obviously learned from his generous, vibrant mother.
Jackie smiled up at Dylan. “He has a way of making sure no one misses out on life, doesn’t he?”
“Yes, that’s it exactly. I recently realized that I likemotorcycles, thanks to Dylan.” She really liked his mother, and she didn’t want to make the same mistakes she had in the past, by clamming up and drawing uncrossable lines in the sand. She sat up a little straighter, mentally opening the curtains she was used to hiding behind. “Actually, that’s not true. I like riding on the back of your son’s motorcycle.” She stopped short of telling her she found out she liked to cuddle, and turn off her phone, and she even liked the trapeze. There were too many recent realizations to list.
Dylan set a plate of cheese and crackers on the table and sat beside Tiffany. He put his arm over her shoulder and kissed her temple. “You opened my eyes, too, Summers.”
His mother gave him a curious look she couldn’t read. “My boys and their big-boy toys. Those things scare the bejesus out of me, but they all have a thing for them. Even Carson, who is usually the most cautious of them all.” She smiled at Dylan in a way that told of her unconditional love.
For the first time since she was a little girl, Tiffany allowed herself to feel the pain of longing to have one of those smiles aimed at her. Dylan must have felt her tense up, because he pressed a kiss beside her ear and held her a little tighter.
“Do you have siblings, Tiffany? Tell me about your family. Where are you from?” Jackie asked.
“Yes, I have two brothers, Rocco and Perry. They both play professional sports. We’re from here, actually, but I’ve lived in Los Angeles since college. I just moved back because—”It was time for me to stop running from my mother’s absence.
Panic swept through her.Oh God. Where did that come from?
How had she not realized this before? She’d built a life far, far away from her bad memories. And here she was at Dylan’s house, where he confronted his far worse memories with every visit.
Jackie was looking at her expectantly, and she realized she’d stopped midsentence. She sat up a little straighter, forcing her mind past the quicksand of her past and focused on answering the question.
“I moved back because my father was sick. He was recently diagnosed with kidney disease. He’s doing well now, and it’s under control with medication, but I wanted to be closer.”But not too close.Her rushed visits with her father suddenly made sense. She wasn’t fitting him in to her busy life. She was making sure hedidn’tfit. She cut their visits short so she didn’t get mired down in the way their kitchen had always felt like someone was missing and that every time she looked at her father, she secretly wondered if he’d done something to push their mother away.
I’m an awful daughter.
She reached for Dylan’s hand.
“Are you okay, babe?” he asked.
“Yeah. I was just thinking. Maybe we could visit my dad soon? Just for a quick—” No, she refused to minimize him any longer. Her mother’s abandonment had already caused enough damage. “For dinner?”
“Sure,” Dylan said. “I’d love to.”
“I’m sorry to hear he’s sick,” Jackie said. “But I’m sure he’s thrilled to have you close to home again.”
“Thank you.”I hope he will be.
They chatted for a while, moving the conversation away from family to easier subjects like work and the weather. Jackie was nice to talk to. She had a kind nature with obvious strength and fortitude, which reminded Tiffany of Dylan. She looked around the cozy kitchen for the first time since they’d sat down and tried to envision the two of them baring their souls in the middle of the night. She pictured moonlight streaming through the windows and Dylan pacing the floor, his mother watching, her heart breaking for her son—sons—and trying to hold herself together enough to talk about the little girl who had been such a big part of their lives.
Dylan rose to his feet. Instead of reaching for Tiffany’s hand, he reached for his mother’s. “Should we go through pictures for the fundraiser?”
He should get a Most Compassionate Son award. His mother’s expression was full of gratitude, love, and worry. But somehow Tiffany knew that worry was meant for her son’s well-being, not her own.
