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I don’t get to answer her question because I hear Maisie’s voice from inside the car. My eyes grow wide as I realize she’s still strapped into her car seat.
Didn’t I say I’d take better care of her?
I run to the backseat.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” I tell Maisie as I bring her out of the car.
“It’s okay.” She glances at my mother. “Hello.”
“Well, hello there.” My mother puts her hands on her knees and smiles. “What’s your name?”
Maisie walks towards her. “Maisie. What’s your name?”
My Mom chuckles. “Nina. I’m Cathy’s mommy.”
Maisie looks at me. “She’s your mommy?”
I nod. “Yes.”
Maisie turns back to my mother. “How old are you?”
My Mom touches Maisie’s cheek. “Oh, darling, one never asks a mother that question. It’s a secret.”
Maisie looks confused but doesn’t press the issue.
“Are you looking after this little girl?” my mom asks me. “Don’t tell me you’ve adopted now, too.”
“No.” I shake my head. “I didn’t adopt her. She’s – ”
“Cathy lives with me and my dad,” Maisie blurts out.
My mother’s eyes grow wide. My jaw drops. Oh shit.
My Mom straightens up and looks at me. “Cathy?”
“It’s not what you think, Mom,” I explain. “It’s true. I live here with Maisie and her dad. Her dad owns the restaurant and he invited me to stay here at his house.”
“I see.” She puts a hand on her hip. “Is that why you didn’t tell me you moved out of your old apartment? Because you’re living with a man now?”
“Mom…”
“Cathy, let’s go inside,” Maisie interrupts.
I glance at the house. I see Mrs. Henderson, the housekeeper, through the window.
I pinch Maisie’s cheek lightly. “Why don’t you go inside, hmm? Ask Mrs. Henderson to help you look for that stuffed bunny you said you couldn’t find this morning.”
“Okay.” Maisie runs off into the house.
I watch her until she’s through the door and then peek through the window to make sure Mrs. Henderson has her.
“That little girl treats you like her mother,” my mom observes out loud.
“That’s because she doesn’t have one,” I answer. “Her mother died shortly after giving birth to her.”
“Poor thing.” My mom clicks her tongue as she glances at the house. Then she turns to me. “So that means the man you’re staying with is a widower. That’s a relief, at least. I was afraid you were staying with a married man.”
“What?”
“Or a divorced man.”
“No.”
“I’m still not sure I like the idea of you living with a man and his child at their home, though. It just doesn’t seem right, Cathy.”
“Well, he’s not just any man,” I tell my mother. “You know him, actually.”
“I do?”
“Jackson Holloway,” I give her the name.
She clasps a hand over her mouth as she gasps. “You mean… T… Trisha’s…?”
“Her older brother, yes. He’s a chef now. He owns a lot of restaurants.”
Her hand slides down to her chest. “Oh, who’d have thought?”
“I know. I never expected it, either.”
“But is it okay with you?” she asks me. “I mean with him being… her brother and all.”
“You mean doesn’t it bother me to live with a person who reminds me of… Trisha? It did at first, but not anymore. It’s not his fault he reminds me of her or that she’s gone.”
“Of course not.” She takes my hands in hers. “I just meant that you’ve been trying hard to move on and now…”
She stops suddenly, then her gaze drops to my hands, particularly to my left.
Oh, shit.
I pull my hand away. It’s too late, though. She’s already seen the ring.
“Is that…?”
I step back. “It’s nothing, Mom.”
She narrows her eyes at me suspiciously. “Cathy Josephine Jeffries, are you engaged?”
I let out a sigh. I guess I have to explain everything to her now.
“It’s not – ”
“You’re engaged to Jackson?” She takes my left hand. “Why, this ring is beautiful.”
“It is,” I agree.
“The diamond is real, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but – ”
“Oh, I’m so happy for you.” She squeezes my hands. “I was so worried that you’d never get to live your own life, that you’d dwell in the past forever, but look at you. You have a future. You have your whole life ahead of you.”
How am I supposed to tell her the truth after hearing all that?
I squeeze her hands in turn. “You don’t have to worry about me anymore, Mom.”
“There I was wondering if you’d ever get a boyfriend or even ever go on a date and here you are, engaged.”
She looks genuinely happy for me and I don’t have the heart to break hers, not after I’ve caused her so much sadness and worry.
I shrug. “Yes. Here I am.”
“I’m disappointed you didn’t tell me about it, though.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
I rub the back of my head. “I… wanted to tell you in person, but I’m so busy with the restaurant opening that I didn’t have time to go home.”
