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I thought of the long months I was away from Annie on deployment, waiting to get home to her. Only to find out that she had cancer when I got home. I’d waited through countless doctors’ appointments, even more chemo treatments with Annie, my hand in hers, my spirits low but my hopes high. I remembered waiting on test results that would break our hearts over and over again. And then eventually in the final days, I remembered waiting by her side as she took her last breath, finally finding peace. Finally pain-free. No, I was damn good at waiting. And I’d wait for Emily Davies, too.
I’d wait forever if that was how long it took.
It had only been two weeks since I’d seen West at Station Nine. It felt like two hundred years.
I was miserable. I missed him like hell. The text I’d received three days after our fight at the firehouse only made me sadder.
I’m sorry, that was all it had said. I wondered what he was sorry about. The fight? Him almost calling me a bitch. Or just us in general? Maybe he was sorry he ever met me in the first place.
My mind was a crazy place lately, where I imagined all kinds of scenarios when it came to Weston and me, and none of them were good.
Parker wasn’t much better than me. It had seemed since the accident Prisha had pulled away from my girl and I could tell she was devastated. I didn’t know how to fix it for her. I felt like it was the first real time as a mom that I couldn’t make things better for her.
It was gut-wrenching watching her suffer, so we spent most of our free time together on the sofa, watching Netflix while she healed.
She was finally up and about on crutches for school, but by the time she came home, she was sore and tired from using them all day around a large high school campus.
And me? My heart was sore and my mind was tired, so I had no problem being a part of the feel sorry for yourself couch and Netflix club.
That was where we were when Parker finally asked about Weston. Me back in my Atlanta Braves sad as hell baseball cap and Parker in enough black eyeliner to line a thousand eyes. What a sad pair we were.
“You and West called it quits?” she asked, still watching people decorate fancy cakes on the TV.
I felt trapped because somehow while I knew she was trying to play it like it wasn’t a big deal, it was to her. She liked Weston. She wanted him for me.
But I wanted to be honest with her. “I think so,” I said quietly, eyeing her across the sofa, worried out of my momma mind.
A lone tear fell down her cheek and my momma heart broke. I moved over on the couch like lightning until I was sitting right next to her. “Oh, Parker, it’s okay. It’s not the end of the world.” I grabbed her hand.
I was saying the words and even I didn’t believe the lies coming out of my mouth. Because it sure felt like the world was officially over.
“I just want you to have someone, Mom. And I really felt like Weston might have been that someone,” she said, another tear slipping free.
I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close. Now, here was a person I’d never had a problem hugging. My sweet girl.
I rocked her against me and let out a long breath. I thought Weston might have been my person, too, but it was all just too much. Him. Me. Fire.
“I have you,” I said, breathing her in.
She shook her head slowly. “I won’t always be here, Mom. I’m going to leave and go away to school and one day you’ll be here by yourself and I can’t stand the thought of that.”
I looked down into her wet eyes, feeling my own start to leak. “It’s not your job to worry about me, baby. It’s my job to worry about you. And I know that you’ll leave one day. And I’ll be sad, but I’ll also know that I did my job and I did it well. Because you’re doing what you should be doing, which is living a life of your own. You understand what I’m saying?”
“I do,” she said. “But I’d feel a lot better leaving you knowing you weren’t alone. Knowing you had someone to look out for you.”
I smiled softly. “I know, baby, but I think I’m going to be okay being alone. Besides, even when you’re all grown up and married with children of your own, you’ll still come to see your old mom, right?” I laughed out, trying to lighten the mood.
I expected that maybe she’d laugh, too. Only she surprised me by burying her face in my body and sobbing.
Shocked, I pulled her closer. “Honey, don’t cry. You can still message Weston if you want to talk to him.” I tried to soothe her.
Holy shit. She was having a similar reaction to Miranda when I’d told her. She hadn’t been happy either and she’d tried to talk me out of it, but eventually given up and supported me like a good friend.
She cried harder. “God. I’m not crying about you and Weston, Mom.”
I guessed I wasn’t very good at keeping up with the very quick subject changes of teens. But I had a feeling whatever this was about was the very thing that had been bothering her for months. The very thing she’d been keeping from me.
“Oh, precious. Just tell me what’s wrong and I can help you fix it. Is it something to do with Prisha? We can’t continue on like this. Let me help you.” I kissed the top of her sweet-smelling head.
