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"Because we each have something the other wants and —"
I wave her away. "No. Why do you want to increase your followers if you're planning to buy the gym?"
"Because I know how this works, Asher. Russell is your buddy and men help men. He's probably only entertaining my offer to give you more time to save money or get your ducks in a row or something. If I can't prove to him I should have the gym, I need to have income from somewhere and the fifteen clients I have in Catalpa Creek and the six classes a week I offer won't be enough to pay all my bills once I have to move out of this house."
"Don't you have some big inheritance coming? Isn't that why you're living in this house in the first place?"
"You know what?" she says, clearly exasperated. "Just forget I said anything. This was a stupid idea."
"I'll do it," I say, real quick, before she really does change her mind. "When do we start?"
Her smile is triumphant and sexy as hell. "I've got clients and classes all day tomorrow. How about Tuesday?"
"I'm working Tuesday, so it'll have to be before seven or after four."
"Tuesday at five AM it is."
I stare after her as she sashays out of the room, her perfect booty swaying, the plaid pajama bottoms doing nothing to diminish her sexiness.
***
"You're a good son," my mother says as she pushes Harper on a swing at the park. White petals drift down from the trees at the edge of the playground and Harper squeals every time she catches one.
"I'm not a good son," I say from my seat on the swing next to them. The park is nearly empty at nine in the morning on a Monday. "I let you think I died in that forest fire Grant and I set accidentally, then didn't visit for nine years."
"You're here now and that's what matters." Mom smiles warmly. She's dressed for work in her uniform of blue slacks and comfortable shoes, but a heavy coat covers her top half because it's chilly in the mornings and Mom gets cold easily. Her hair is up in a neat bun and her face is fully made up for a day of chatting with customers and carrying plates of food. Mom manages the restaurant, but it's understaffed enough that she still has to spend too much time waiting tables.
When I was younger and dumber, I dreamed of coming home the prodigal son and making it so Mom could finally go back to school and get the nursing degree she's always wanted and Dad could open the antique store he's long dreamed of having. Of course, being young and stupid, I went about making money the wrong way and ended up in prison for boosting a car.
"How are you and Dad doing, really?" I ask. "I'm here because I want to help, so I need the truth, Mom."
She smiles down at me. "Honey, your father and I are happy. We have each other and a place to live. All our bills are paid, and we're even saving up for a little vacation this summer. We don't want you to worry about us."
"Once I buy this gym and have some regular money coming in. I want to help you go back to school and get your nursing degree."
She stares at me in confusion, even as she continues to push Harper on the swing. "Why would I want a nursing degree?"
"Isn't that what you want? You talked about it all the time when I was a kid."
She presses her lips together, her gaze going distant. "I guess I did used to talk about that from time to time, but I'm happy where I am. Damian promises he's going to hire enough staff so I can spend more of my day in the office, planning schedules and handling the orders and the paychecks. Did I tell you he taught me how to work the payroll program on the computer? It's so much easier than I expected."
"You did tell me that, Mom, but is that what you really want? You don't want to go back to school and get a better job?"
"A better job?" Mom shakes her head. "Honey, I'm not like you or your sister. I'm happy with what I got. I like working at Southern Roots. I like the staff and the customers. If I had to work in some stuffy office or clean bedpans for a living, I don't know what I'd do with myself."
"But what about your back? Don't you want an easier job?"
"Honey, my back hurts just as bad if I sit all day. I need a job where I can sit part of the day and move around part of the day and that's what I get at the restaurant. I only have an issue when someone doesn't show up for work and I'm on my feet all shift."
Harper shouts for Mom to stop pushing her, and Mom catches the swing and holds it still while Harper climbs out and runs off toward the slides. Mom and I follow. "You've always hadbig ideas, Asher, and I'm happy for you, but don't put those big ideas on me. I love my life just as it is. The only thing I want from you is some more grand babies."
I stop, stunned by the suggestion of me having babies, but even more so by the realization that Mom isn't just saying what she thinks I want to hear. She really means it. She's happy with what she has and doesn't want anything from me.
I take a minute to recalibrate my understanding of my own mother and exactly what I'm supposed to be doing here if she doesn't need me. I shake it off. Amelia needs me and Dad needs me. And even if Mom doesn't want to make over her life, she can certainly use me picking up groceries for her and fixing things around the house from time to time.
I pull myself together and sit next to Mom on a bench where we can watch Harper climb up the ladder of the smallest slide and go down over and over again.
"Just don't make any grand babies with that Weston girl you were kissing on that nasty video," Mom says. "I don't blame the child for the father's faults, but I'm not dumb enough to trust anyone from that family with anything or anyone I care about ever again."
