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I hesitate as I hear Mom opening and closing the cabinets in the kitchen before sighing and walking down the stairs to face the Spanish inquisition.
She looks up from the counter with a small smile on her face and hands me a cup of coffee. “Hey, hon. How are you feeling?”
We both walk through to the living room and she sits down in the armchair opposite me on the sofa, curling her feet underneath her like I have.
“Fresh as a daisy after a good night's sleep,” I reply, lifting my lips into a small smile.
“Good, good.” Her eyes flit between mine and I can tell that she’s desperate to say something but she’s holding back.
I chuckle and take a sip of my coffee. “Say what you’ve got to say, God knows you will anyway.”
“I don’t want to be a busy body, Harm, but… have you seen him since you’ve been back?”
I know who she’s talking about without her voicing his name out loud, but I’m not in the mood to talk about him, especially so soon after seeing him for the first time in a decade.
I shift in my chair, cupping my coffee cup in my hands. “Why would you ask that?”
“You’re slipping into old habits. And I… I saw the painting in your studio, it’s not healthy.”
I shrug. “That’s nothing, I’m fine.”
“So?”
“So, what?” I ask flippantly.
“Have you seen him?”
I shift in my chair. “I saw him for two minutes last night.” I take a deep breath before delivering my blow. “Clayton and Izzie are his kids.” Her eyes widen but she doesn’t look as shocked as I was expecting her to be. I lean forward, narrowing my eyes at the look on her face. “Mom?”
She sighs, defeated. “I know.”
“You know what?” I frown at her, my heart starting to beat faster in my chest.
“I knew that Clayton and Izzie were his. I recognized him from your photos the second he stepped foot into the studio that first day.”
My head swirls at her betrayal. “How could you not tell me?”
She puts down her coffee cup and walks toward me, sitting down next to me. “I thought I was doing the right thing by not telling you right away. I planned on telling you after a few weeks, but you were so happy and I decided you discovering everything on your own may be better than it coming from me.”
I place my cup down and stand, turning toward her. “I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me, I could’ve prepared myself. I would’ve—”
“You would’ve hid away or done something drastic.” She stands and takes my hands in hers, her eyes begging for me to forgive her. “I’m sorry, hon.”
I sigh. “I guess you’re right.” I look away from her and down at our hands. “But I’m sad that I won’t get to see them again, they were great kids.”
“Why wouldn’t you see them again?”
“He’s hardly going to want his college sweetheart that he wronged around his children, not that I’d ever in a million years treat them any differently, but he doesn’t know that.”
She looks around the room. “I don’t know if this is the right advice but... maybe you should reach out to him and clear the air?”
My head snaps toward her at her bold statement. “That’s the last thing I want to do.”
Her face screws up. “Harmony, you’re going to be around each other whether you like it or not, so you have to be the bigger person. It’s about the kids; you know how much Clayton has come out of his shell over the last six weeks, he’s even interacting with the other kids. He needs this class.”
“I know,” I mumble, finally relenting and my stomach doing somersaults at the thought of my next sentence. “If they don’t turn up on Saturday, I’ll call him.”
She nods, letting go of my hands. “So, the man last night?”
