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I give a curt nod. What else is there to do? Law and I aren’t close in a way that I’d share how in love with her I am, though he isn’t a stupid man. He knows, just as I’m sure Cami knows. Hell, the only person who doesn’t know is Kiersten.
There should be a manual about how to tell the mother of your unborn child that you’re so madly in love with her that it makes you absolutely crazy.
“Let us know if either of you needs anything.”
“Will do.”
He claps me on the shoulder and strolls to his truck. I climb back into mine, and we peel away at the same time. While they’re headed home, I’m on my way to Kiersten’s. I had no idea Kiersten left until mid-afternoon when my mom text me for her address because my house was empty. Since then, I’ve only received one cryptic text from my mom and radio silence from Kiersten.
I’ve been on edge most of the day, wondering if the two of them are getting along or avoiding one another. Things were left unrepaired after the restaurant, neither one of them making an effort to patch the relationship. Not that I’d put any of that on Kiersten. It’s entirely my mother’s place to apologize for the way she treated us over lunch.
That doesn’t make navigating this any easier. I meant what I said to Kiersten at the restaurant. My mom doesn’t get to treat her like that, and I’d cut her off faster than she can beg me not to if she pulls that crap again. One of my mother’s worst traits is she feels deep, deeper than most, but when it comes to others, she has the emotional well of a shot glass. She’ll be the first to say someone hurt her, but the last to apologize when she does the same.
However, in the past, she always, always comes around.
My hope is they can figure it out without much interference from me. That doesn’t mean I’m not ready to step in the second their interactions head south.
I park my truck at the curb in front of Kiersten’s and start up the walkway just as my mom pops out the front door with two massive trash bags.
“Shit,” I mutter under my breath, wondering what the hell she’s gotten up to. “Mom! What’re you doing?”
She wipes the sweat off her brow with her elbow, careful not to touch her face with the plastic yellow gloves pulled up her forearms. I reach her as she tries to pick them up again, and I pluck the bags from her hands.
“I got it.”
“Nah, let me.” I use a tone that refuses an argument. “What do you have here?”
“I don’t think her trash has been changed since she went to the hospital. I just gathered it up from the bathrooms and kitchen and cleaned out her fridge.”
I keep the surprise out of my tone when I reply, “Interesting.”
“If you take care of those, I’m going to get these gloves off and run to the grocery store. Her cupboards are bare.”
She turns back into the house while I take the bags to the garage to dispose of them. When I’m finished, we cross paths again on the sidewalk. I grasp her loose around her bicep.
“Ma. Hold up.”
“Yes?”
I furrow my brow. “You’re being weird. How are things between the two of you?”
She rolls her lips between her teeth and looks at her shoes. “Quiet.”
I shake her arm to bring her attention back to me. She begrudgingly obliges.
“Did you apologize?”
“I meant to,” she whispers. Regret colors her tone. “I screwed it up, so for now, this is my apology.”
“Cleaning?”
She nods. “It’s an act of service. Until I can get her to speak to me again, I’m going to show her I’m sorry by helping.”
“I’m sure she’ll appreciate the help, but you can’t use this lame excuse. Apologize from your heart, or you aren’t going to be around much.”
She pulls free from my grip and takes a step toward her car before spinning back around. “I’m your mother.”
“I love her, Mom.” Emotion clogs my throat from the admission, and I rub the back of my heated neck. I don’t think I’ve ever told my mom I’m in love with a girl before. Even with Janessa, we just announced we were dating, and then our engagement, and that was that. This feels more like a teenaged boy with his first crush, and the embarrassment is real.
