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My mother nodded. “Yes.”
I met her eye. “You thought I needed it?”
“Maybe.” My mother shrugged. “It was hard for you, all of you kids so close in age. It was nice to have something special for you.” Her smile faded. “I should have done more with you alone, truly. I worked too hard, I took on too many cases. Back then, I had eighty actives. I should have referred more out, been home more.”
My heart wrenched. “I would have started drinking no matter what, Mom.”
“That’s not true.”
“Yes, it is.” I kissed her on the cheek, getting a fading whiff of her rose perfume. “You’re a great mother.”
“I could have been better.”
“Nowyoustop putting yourself down.”
A new concern flickered across her lovely features. “TJ, I have something I really want to say. You’re not going to like it.”
Uh-oh. “Go ahead, what?”
“I think you know something about this burglary tonight. I don’t want you to answer me or say anything. I just want you to listen.” Her forehead wrinkled deeply, as if she were aging on the spot. “I don’t know whether you’re back with your old gang, or people you thought were your friends—”
“Mom, no.”
“Shh.” My mother held up an index finger. “Don’t say anything.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want you to lie to me.”
Ouch.“I’m not lying,” I shot back, but I was. Just not the way she thought.
“You have to listen to me. Will you?”
“Yes.” I sensed something happening, as if the air between us was getting heavy.
“Whatever you’re involved in, TJ, I want you to be careful. Nothing matters to me the way you matter to me, and the people who did this tonight, they’re dangerous. You have to be careful, for me. You know why?”
“Because you love me.”
“No,” my mother answered flatly. “Because I’m tired of being afraid for you.”
•••
We put her office back in order, talking idly to get back to normal. Afterward I headed for the door, exhausted, heartsick, and jonesing for a beer.
When I got to the car, I made a call.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I entered the diner and approached the booth where my sponsor, Jake, awaited me behind a cup of coffee. He had on a black sweater, dark slacks, and his loafers.
“Thanks for coming,” I said, sliding into the booth. “You know you’re the classiest thing in this place.”
“Thanks.”
I glanced around at the other customers, a rough crew of haggard men. “Everybody here at this hour is in AA or should be.”
Jake looked at me with concern. “Can we finish deflecting?”
