Four, Can’t Help Falling in Love

Four

Lexi was craving a pastrami sandwich by the time she got home. Since she was in charge of the shopping and hadn’t had a chance to hit the store this week, that craving would go unsatisfied. She did, however, take a few minutes to center herself after parting ways with her gorgeous rescuer. She even placed an online order for groceries to be picked up tomorrow. Multitasking, the greatest workout of all.

Letting herself into the house, she listened for sounds that her mother was awake. Gwen Danby spent a lot of time sleeping. It was just one item on the long list of things that worried Lexi about her mom.

Her childhood home, a two-story basement entry, could be described on one of those reality fixer-upper shows as “full of potential.” A person just needed a boatload of money and some skill to return it to its formerly charming, not-run-down state.

Lexi tossed her bag on the entryway table, hung her faded jean jacket, and took the stairs up. The second floor was mostly open, with the living area straight ahead, the dining area to the left and an archway through there to the kitchen.

To the right of the stairs, there was a hallway with three bedrooms, a bathroom, and another entrance to the kitchen. It was easy to see her mom wasn’t in the living room. As usual, a stack of romance books sat precariously piled on the table beside her favorite lounger in front of an old-school brick fireplace. There were more on the floor and probably a bunch on hold at the library waiting for Lexi to pick them up.

Lexi’s stomach rumbled audibly. Damn. She really wanted that sandwich. Tomorrow. If she remembered to pick up the groceries.

“Lex? Is that you?” her mom’s soft singsong voice called from down the hallway. Lexi headed that way. Should she cancel with Will? Of course she should. What was she thinking going to a party with people she wasn’t even friends with anymore? It wasn’t like showing up with a guy she barely knew was going to make her fit in again. Anywhere. No matter how good he looked. Or sweet and funny he seemed.

When she entered the space that used to be her dad’s office, some of the tension in her shoulders loosened. Gwen’s most animated moments were when she worked on her miniatures. Scene after scene of moments she’d read decorated the walls of shelves. Story snippets. Lexi could lose herself looking at them as easily as her mother got lost in making them.

When Lexi was restless or couldn’t sleep, she’d come in here to focus on the intricate details of the creations, labeled neatly by the book that inspired them. The Kiss Quotient by Helen Hoang, Twice Shy by Sarah Hogle, Happily Ever After by Nora Roberts, and so many more. Lexi hadn’t read all of the books, but the miniatures shared the essence of the moments that really tugged at her mother’s dented heart. While it was an outlet—an amazing one at that—Gwen often leaned on the activity like a crutch to keep to herself, avoid social engagements, and focus on something other than missing her husband.

“Hi, honey,” her mom said without lifting her head.

“Hey.” Lexi wandered in, noting that her mom hadn’t changed out of the pajama bottoms or ancient Eagles T-shirt she’d been wearing when Lexi left that morning. “What are you working on?”

“Dinner scene from the book I’m reading. He reaches for her hand across the table and she just tells him absolutely everything. Like he released something inside of her, you know? It was adorable. Reminded me of my first date with your dad.” The table was strewn with tools, miniature pieces, clay, paints, brushes—everything a craft enthusiast could imagine.

Lexi’s heart flinched. She squeezed her mom’s shoulder, knowing where this was headed. It seemed she was destined to get stuck in the past today. Who are you kidding? Your past and present have merged forevermore.

“We went to see the Eagles. First and best concert I’ve ever been to. Oh, sweetie, Don Henley has the most beautiful voice.” Gwen used the tiniest of tools to manipulate the clay. Usually, Lexi’s mom bought miniature items she found at craft stores, like tables, benches, books, fruits, vegetables, little glasses that looked like they held liquid, and so much more, to create her scenes; for the characters, she often made her own. “We sang along to every single song and then went to this diner after. We had apple pie and I felt like I could tell him anything. This scene, it just got me, you know?”

She knew her parents’ story. All too well. They’d also shared a chocolate vanilla milkshake. When the band’s “Peaceful, Easy Feeling” came over the speakers, they’d declared it their song and never spent another night apart. Until.

The mixture of sadness and wistfulness in her mother’s tone dug beneath the crack in Lexi’s heart that never quite healed.

“Have you eaten today?” Lexi asked when her mother fell silent. Lexi couldn’t count how many times she’d heard the first-date story.

“Don’t mom me.” Gwen set her tool down, rolled her shoulders, and spun around on her chair. Her once dark hair had liberal streaks of pale gray, almost white. The tiny-framed glasses she wore to see things up close were perched too far down her nose. She removed them with a deep sigh.

“Don’t give me reason to,” Lexi reminded her. When Lexi did anything even slightly mom-like, Gwen brought out her I’m serious tone. In truth, she loved the way little flickers of her mom’s old self came through when she told Lexi to knock it off.

“Have you eaten today?” Her mom’s brows arched. She stood and stretched her hands over her head. Despite the drawstring being cinched, the pajama bottoms hung loose on her waist.

“Well played. Why don’t I make us something?” Do it. You’re stuck in as much of a rut as she is. “I’m going to go out for a while tonight.” Lead by example. Another old favorite among Coach’s sayings.

Her mom lowered her arms, a small smile gracing her lips.

“That’s good, honey. That makes me happy. You should get out more. You spend all your time working or here. It’s not healthy.”

The weight of irony in her mother’s words sat like an angry gorilla beating its fists on Lexi’s chest. She shook off the feeling, the pressure. Lexi rolled her eyes as she turned and headed for the kitchen. “Don’t mom me.”

“That’s my job. You’re almost thirty. You shouldn’t live at home.” Her mom followed behind.

“I’m twenty-five.” She couldn’t argue with the rest. She shouldn’t live at home and if she thought her mother would pay her bills, feed herself, and remember to pull herself out of bed on the bad days, Lexi would move out. Though Gwen’s depression wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been during the first year following her husband’s death, Lexi still did most of the things that were necessary to keep them afloat.

“Almost twenty-six. I was married to your dad by that age. For four years,” Gwen reminded her, taking a seat at the breakfast bar.

Lexi rooted through the fridge, found some eggs, ham, and cheese. Omelets would do. Not pastrami, but she’d settled for less.

“Make you a deal: You get out more, I’ll get out more. Besides, times have changed. People don’t get married so young anymore.”

Though it wasn’t stopping her former classmates apparently. Lena couldn’t have been much older than any of them and she was making partner in her law firm.

Maybe Lena didn’t have everything fall apart. Or maybe others were better than her at rebuilding. “I placed a grocery order. Why don’t you come with me to pick it up tomorrow? Stop for a piece of pie.”

Her mom shook her head. “I’m reading tomorrow. I wouldn’t mind a nice walk, though. By the river, maybe?”

Lexi snorted. “You’re reading every day, Mom.” She only picked activities that kept her in Lexi’s company or her own. “Come on. Just the store then, for the ride. Twenty minutes round trip. Didn’t you just say it’s healthy to get out of the house?” She grabbed a pan from one of the lower cupboards, set it on the stove.

When her phone buzzed in her pocket, she ignored it in the hope of Gwen actually changing her stance on getting out more.

“Where are you going tonight?” Gwen asked. Small steps.

“I ran into a couple girls from high school. Do you remember Jackie?”

Lexi grabbed a bowl, a whisk, and some spices. Her mom’s brows were furrowed when she set the items on the countertop across from her. “Here. You do this part while I cut the ham.”

“She was another runner, right? Not like you but she did track with you. She used to come over after school?” Gwen cracked the eggs, added some spices, and picked up the whisk, moving it around the bowl. If there was one thing her mom had a firm grasp on, it was the past.

“Right. Well, she’s getting married.” Lexi started chopping the ham across from her mom. Gwen was pretty absentminded about eating but once Lexi got things going, she chipped in. “She’s having an engagement party.”

“That’s nice that you’re going. You should bring a gift.”

Lexi stopped chopping, irritated by the idea that not only had she been roped into the party but she might have to spend money she didn’t have. She hadn’t thought of that.

Gwen watched her carefully. “Just something small, Lexi. Doesn’t have to be expensive.” She pushed the whisked eggs toward Lexi. When she wasn’t lost in memories or busy with her miniatures, Gwen was pretty astute at reading people’s moods. Too bad she hadn’t been great at recognizing her husband’s money problems. He’d hid it well, and Gwen had been happy to defer to him.

Washing her hands at the sink then drying them, she set a hand on Lexi’s shoulder as she walked by. “I’m glad you’re getting out more, sweetie. Call me when it’s ready.”

Lexi closed her eyes, pressing her palms flat to the cool counter. She counted to ten, breathing in and out slowly. Focus on what you can control. She set about making a meal that she’d eat alone. She’d leave her mom’s in the fridge because Gwen would fall back into the scene she was creating and not want to stop again.

Doing her best not to let the events of the day take her legs out from under her, Lexi grabbed a soda and her freshly made omelet, taking the seat her mother had vacated.

Since she was alone, again, she pulled her phone out of her pocket as she took a huge bite of her eggs. New texts were on her screen, making Lexi smile her first real smile in hours.