Single Mom’s Guide to Love (Guide to Love #2)

7. Maeve

7

maeve

I know I’m not the only mom in the world who wonders this, but I often think to myself if I’m in the higher or lower percentage who ask themselves, “Am I a bad mom?”

We all think it. I know we do, even if the Taylor Anns and Becky Lynns in the pickup line want to deny it. I have to assume I’m on the higher end of the median line. Mine is at least three times a day with an added one at the end of the night when I remember that he didn’t eat a single vegetable.

Tonight’s bad mom question comes from the front seat of my SUV as I sit in my garage as I suck up the will to exit the car and head back into real life. Don’t get me wrong, I’m tired of traveling and want to snuggle with Jayce and sleep in my own bed. But the second I step out of this vehicle, I know real life is going to smack me on the face. Packing lunches. Holiday shopping and organizing. Basketball practice for six-year-olds, which is pointless but also adorable because they just run around in a pack chasing a ball. Remembering what day of the week it is. And oh yeah, running my own business.

And actively pushing aside thoughts of a certain Brit.

Real life fucking blows.

So in the name of avoidance and procrastination, I’m going to sit here for a few more minutes, clear my head of all thoughts Logan Matthews, and get ready to get back to my life as Maeve Banks, do-it-all extraordinaire.

“Just let go, Maeve. Just let go…”

Why did my brain go back to that moment? Is it because those were the last words he said to me before I came harder than I ever have in my life? Was it because he used my name instead of that damnable nickname? He didn’t do it much, but I feel like when he did, somehow that was more intimate than the pet name.

Or am I now just forever screwed because I screwed Logan Matthews?

“Mommy!”

Jayce’s voice cuts through the quiet as he barrels into the garage. I open my eyes to see him running around to the driver’s side in his Batman footy pajamas.

“Back to reality,” I whisper to myself as I open the door. I barely have a foot out before Jayce is hugging my leg.

“Hey, buddy,” I say as I lean down to hug him. “Did you miss me?”

“So much!”

God, I really am a bad mom. How could I choose a moment for myself over this greeting? I lean down and hug him, which is more like me wrapping my arms around his neck, but it will do.

I’m home. Where I’m supposed to be.

“Jayce, what did I say about letting your mom come into the house before you tackled her?”

Hearing my sister Stella’s words only makes him squeeze my leg harder. “I was waiting forever!”

His response makes me chuckle. “Okay, buddy, how about you loosen the grip just a little so we can go inside? That way I can hug you properly.”

He does the bare minimum of my request as we start walking into my house in Brentwood, a southern suburb of Nashville. I realize I still need to get my bags out of the SUV, but that’s clearly going to be an after-Jayce-goes-to-bed task. Or in reality, a tomorrow morning task, when I realize I need my makeup.

“Thanks again,” I say to Stella as Jayce finally lets go of my leg to run back into the living room. He might be excited to see me, but not excited enough to stay away from his favorite movie of all time, Lego Batman . “This really helped me out.”

Stella waves me off as she starts gathering her things into her white and pink monogrammed tote. “It was no problem. Emmett’s working on a design anyway, and he says I distract him. Which is not my fault.”

I lift an eyebrow at my baby sister. “Really? You don’t do anything that your boyfriend would find distracting? It’s all him and his fragile male willpower?”

She pretends to think about it before her smirk gives her away. “Fine. Maybe sometimes I happen to walk by in just one of his T-shirts. And I might accidentally drop my phone. And sometimes it slides under the table so I have to crawl under. And?—”

“That’s enough!” I yell, holding up my hands in surrender. I might love that my sister is finally in a loving and healthy—and apparently very active—relationship, but I don’t always need to hear the details. Especially with my six-year-old in listening range.

“Sorry,” Stella singsongs, though judging by the smirk on her face, she really isn’t. “So, how was your trip?”

I feel my cheeks flush the second she brings it up. Shit. My face needs to quit giving me away. I feel like I’ve blushed more in the past forty-eight hours than in my entire life.

“Fine,” I choke out, striving for casual but sounding like I’m strangling.

Judging by Stella’s arched eyebrow and head tilt, she doesn’t believe me. “Fine? Really? That’s it?”

“Yup.”

I move to start putting things away in kitchen cabinets that don’t need to be put away, all in the name of turning my back to my youngest sister so she can’t see my traitorous face.

“Nothing happened? At all? Your cheeks are just getting red because you’re warm in here?”

Why is she pressing so hard?

“Nope,” I say, feeling more confident to turn back to Stella. “Nothing exciting. Speaking, decorating, black leather sectionals. Same ol’, same ol’.”

Stella’s face grows a little sad. “That’s really it?”

“Sorry to disappoint,” I reply as I pour myself a glass of water. “Were you expecting more?”

I do feel bad lying to my sister, but I’m barely able to admit to myself what I did, let alone voice it out loud. Also, telling one sister means I’m telling the other two, and I’m not ready for that conversation. Maybe ever.

“I don’t know,” she says. “I mean, you were gone for ten days. Well, eleven with the delay. I was maybe hoping there’d be some report of a drink with a guy at a bar. Or maybe an impromptu dinner with a fellow designer at a five-star restaurant that just happened to be on a patio looking out over the ocean.”

“It’s November,” I deadpan. “And I went to Atlanta. There is no ocean.”

“You know what I mean.”

“No, my dear sister, I don’t.”

She looks into the living room, I’m assuming to make sure Jayce isn’t coming in. “Maeve, I know I’m not the sister to give advice, or to tell you how to live your life.”

“No, because I’m that sister.”

And that’s not tooting my horn, that’s the truth. Out of the four Banks sisters, we all have our roles in the family. I equate them to the duties we’d have if we ever needed to dispose of a body.

Stella is the one who will dig the hole and ask questions later.

Quinn is likely the reason the body needs buried in the first place.

Ainsley is the eternal optimist who, while driving to bury said body, is spouting off all the reasons why this is a good thing and we aren’t bad people.

And me? I plan the disposal and call the lawyer and make sure we have alibis set up. Oh, I also called our brother Simon to make sure he paid off whoever needs to be bribed.

That’s how it goes. So Stella here, trying to give me advice, is really throwing my world off its axis.

“I know you are. And you always will be. I’m just saying that maybe it’s time you start living a little. Using your work trips to have some no-strings-attached fun? Might not be the worst idea…”

She had to say it like that, didn’t she? Just that slight mention of no-strings fun immediately transports me back to the penthouse suite where I had exactly that. Where I forgot my responsibilities. Where I was selfish for one night.

“There!”

Goddamn it, is there some medication that will stop my chronic blushing?

“There what?” I try to play stupid, which doesn’t work.

“Why are your cheeks on fire? Maeve Banks, what are you not telling me?”

I’ve never been a good bullshitter. In fact, I’ve been told my bluntness is both a gift and a curse. But I’m not ready to tell Stella yet. For now I want to keep this just for me.

Even if just for a little while longer…

“Okay, something did happen.” I barely have the words out before Stella squeals so loud the neighbor’s dogs start barking. “But! I’m not ready to talk about it yet.”

I nod toward the living room where Jayce is still content watching television, feeling only slightly bad that I used my kid to get out of this conversation. Chalk it up to my bad mom score of the day. Though I argue that if you don’t use your kids to get out of stuff, what are you even doing with your life?

“Ugh, fine,” Stella groans. “I’ll drop this for now.”

“And please, don’t tell Quinn and Ainsley. I’ll tell…eventually. Just not yet.”

She nods in understanding, like only a sister can.

“I get it,” she says. “Oh the days of secrecy…”

I laugh as Stella talks about the days of her secret relationship like it was some huge saga. It was a month, tops.

“Thanks,” I say. “And not just for keeping this secret, but for watching Jayce. I don’t know what I would’ve done without all of you.”

I’ve been traveling more for work over the past six months, and each time I go out of town, it takes every person in my arsenal to make it happen. And then when you add on a night like last night, it’s a scramble. Josh had had him for his normal Sunday and Monday schedule when I first left. Since he owns a bar—and it’s pretty successful since he opened it with country mega star Walker Boone—Fridays and Saturdays are tough, which I understand. After that, my parents took over, staying at my house for the week so he could be on his school routine. Stella and Ainsley took over on rotation for the weekend and the beginning of this week, because it was easier for them than for Josh to change his work schedule.

Or so he said.

“It was my pleasure,” Stella says. “Bye, Jayce!”

My son comes running back in the room, wrapping his tiny arms around Stella’s waist as she bends over to return the hug. “Bye, Aunt Tella.”

“Love you,” she says, kissing his forehead before looking back at me. “Love you too.”

I nod. “Right back at ya.”

As Stella exits my house I look over to the clock and see that it’s now close to seven. I’m guessing Jayce already ate dinner, and I’m trying to remember if I’ve had anything since this morning when I got to the airport before the coffee shops even opened. My stomach takes that cue to let out a loud groan, which I ignore. It’s almost time for Jayce to wind down for bed, and I need a few minutes with my boy before I tuck him in.

“So, Lego Batman , again?” I ask as I sit on the couch, making sure to grab my phone so I don’t have to get up if it goes off. And because we’ve done this a thousand times, Jayce climbs up and snuggles into my side.

“It’s the best.”

Neither of us say anything as the movie plays, which is on par for us. Jayce is one of those kids who doesn’t need to talk all the time.

He gets that from me.

The fact that he’s super hero and video game obsessed? That’s from his dad.

I hear a tiny snore from Jayce. I look down, and yup, my boy is out. He’s somehow slid down my side so he’s now lying on my lap, his thumb by his mouth, which he still does from time to time. It’s adorable—a little signal that, yes, he’s growing up, but he’s still my baby.

My eyes were starting to get heavy as well when my phone dings, startling me so much I nearly wake Jayce as I scramble to grab it. As soon as my eyes focus on the device I see a notification of an email from my favorite maybe-not-so-real assistant, Katherine Smith.

“What does she want now?” I mumble as I click open the alert.

To: Maeve Banks, Banks Interiors

From: Katherine Smith

Subject: Re: Reschedule?

Ms. Banks,

Sorry about the confusion, but it turns out the client will be available to meet tomorrow afternoon at the designated time. Directions and an address are attached to this correspondence. If for some reason you have already booked another appointment, please let us know your next availability, and we will move all of our meetings to make it happen. We look forward to meeting with you and thank you again for your cooperation.

Best,

Katherine Smith

I roll my eyes, wondering if this is finally going to happen. The cancellations and the reschedulings have been going on for months now. And while this might be the closest we’ve ever gotten to it happening, I’m still not holding my breath.

No, we’ll wait and see.

And until then, I’m going to sleep on my very expensive, comfortable couch with my son resting peacefully on my lap. And for just these few moments, I’ll relish in the fact that I’m not a bad mom.

Just a very tired one.