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“What does she do?”
“Works in one of the shops downtown, a jewelry store.”
“She’s single?”
“I don’t know. That’s not a question asked on an apartment application, and it’s not any of my business.”
“It wouldn’t hurt for you to find someone nice.”
Sam found the conversation surprising. His mother wasn’t one to ever encourage him into a relationship. She’d always let her sons manage their own lives, choice of vehicles aside. Her line of conversation was surprising because, ever since Nate’s death and the divorce, his mother had retreated even further from commenting on Sam’s life. He never realized how much he missed being pushed by someone.
“Oh, I bought a new raccoon. I think it’s almost exactly like Nate’s.”
Sam nearly choked on his water. “Mom—”
“Don’t you mom me. I can spend my money how I want, Sammy.”
When Nate was three years old, his favorite stuffed animal was a blue raccoon a relative bought for his birthday. He used to take it with him everywhere, until the fur was matted and threadbare. The neck on the raccoon became so weak, the head could no longer be supported and flopped around. But then the toy disappeared, probably thrown away when it had become more rag than toy.
After the accident, his mother became obsessed with trying to find it, insisting she would have never gotten rid of it. But the stuffed toy was never found. Of course, if she came across another raccoon, blue or not, she had to have it.
This was the thing that worried Sam the most about getting the house in shape for the housing market. These days, he didn’t spend a lot of time inside his childhood home and it wasn’t simply because of the tough memories of Nate, although it was a little of that as well.
When he entered her home later that afternoon with the beginnings of a fix-it list on his phone, he felt the sharp inhalation of breath enter his lungs at being faced with an impossible mountain of a situation. This was not one or two raccoon stuffed dolls but hundreds of items, many of them sharing the common theme of having some kind of raccoon motif, but it didn’t stop there.
His mother had never been the best housekeeper when he was growing up, always prone to collect things, but it was clear things had gotten a lot worse as he toed a stack of large black garbage bags. The garbage bags were definitely new since the last time he’d been inside the home.
“Do you want me to toss out these trash bags for you, Mom?” He was hoping against hope the task was as easy as that.
His mother, though, came rushing into the room. “Don’t touch those. I’m getting organized.”
Sam swallowed his disappointment, and his mom must have read his face because she said in a small voice, “You’re going to help me get that little cabin in Tahoe, right, Sammy?”
He hadn’t known when he became more of an adult in their relationship but, lately, he had the need to pull himself up and be the strong one for her to lean against. He offered her a reassuring smile and said, “Yeah, of course.” Putting his arm around her shoulder, he rested his face against the top of her hair. “Don’t worry. We’ll fix the place up and sell it.”
There was a part of Sam that doubted his words, that maybe he wouldn’t be able to overcome a problem this big on his own. But he no longer had Nate, and his father was unwilling to get involved, so it only left Sam. He didn’t have a choice; he had to help her. Doing whatever he could to sell her home and get that little forest cabin would be his new goal.
He had to do it.
He owed her.
Chapter Six
Luna woke themorning of moving day to the smell of grilling onions in the air. The biggest thing she’d miss about living with Ross would be his cooking. Weekend breakfasts were about to get a lot more pitiful.
She’d also miss her little snuggle buddy, Hermes the terrier mix, who was currently snoring like an old man and curled alongside her stomach. She would have taken the old three-legged dog with her to the new place, (she saw him first which, technically, meant he was hers), but Ross would one hundred percent fight her. Her cousin may pretend to be a huge grump, but his insides were jam-packed with marshmallow fluff.
“’Bout time you got up,” Ross said, standing at the stove and sautéing something in a skillet when she finally made her way into the kitchen. Mia stood beside him, cutting fruit into a bowl.
Luna checked the kitchen clock. “It’s only seven. I will never understand why you need to get up so early. I’m sure Mia didn’t want to. Let the pregnant lady sleep.”
In response, Mia crossed her eyes and stuck her tongue to the side. Luna snorted a laugh. When Ross glanced at his wife, her expression quickly shifted to neutral pleasantness. “You know I’m always happy to help you, Rosso.”
“Uh-huh,” he replied, sounding unconvinced. He pulled Mia to him, kissing her temple in a disgusting display of sugary-sweet affection.
Luna wasn’t going to miss this. Not that she wasn’t happy for Ross. He deserved to find love as much as anyone. But everything Ross had was what Luna imagined she’d have at this point. She’d certainly thought she’d had it with Viggo, and all this served as a reminder to how wrong she’d been about that man as well.
“I’m almost done. Why don’t you take the fruit and relax at the table,” Ross said to his wife. “Can you grab some plates, Lu?”
