Chapter 2 #2
Still, there’s no reason to go full force toxic waste. For all I know, this man could be trying to help. Probably not, but I’ll give it the slim benefit of the doubt. “Can I get you a coffee?”
Liam cuts in front of the larger, older guy. Grizzly Bear Central has about four inches on my son and he’s about two feet wider. “Cruz doesn’t—that is, sure. Yes. Thanks, Mom. Whatever you make is fine.”
Cruz. Of course his name is Cruz. That’s the perfect asshole name.
I dip down and get the milk and cream out of the fridge. This, I can do. I’m good at this. The world could be ending, and I’d be in here making coffee, and it would somehow feel right. “Allergies or intolerances?”
“Not that I know of.” Liam keeps answering for the goon. Maybe the guy’s not much of a talker. Maybe he prefers crushing skulls, knocking people out cold, and other general thuggery to polite human interaction.
“Sorry. My mom hates most men due to the fact that my sperm donor was a total asshole.”
My eyes nearly cross. I rip the milk away from the steamer. “Liam! I don’t hate men.”
“She has a type that she extra dislikes. Jocks are number one. Bikers number two. Guys with lifted trucks, three. Guys in suits, four.”
Jesus Christ! “That might be true,” I tell Liam, holding out his cappuccino in one of my funky shop mugs. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t treat people with respect. That’s important.”
“I think that trust shouldn’t be given until it’s earned.” Liam’s eyes wander over the shelves of fun mugs behind me. They’re just as eccentric as my sweater collection.
“That’s a great policy, until you have to work in customer service.
The customer might not always be right, but it takes a lot for me to kick them out and not take their money.
Fortunately for the world, there’s this thing called the internet.
Great marketing tool. Unfortunately for the world, there’s this thing called the internet. Great bad review tool.”
I glance over at Cruz. I’m surprised to see his lips twitch. “Cappuccino okay?”
He nods, and I get right to work, paying attention to what I’m doing so I don’t have to go straight into a writhing, messy nest of intrusive thoughts.
If Liam can sass me, that’s a good thing.
There were times in the past when he’d been so sick with nerves after doing something wrong and having to tell me, even though I was never a hard parent to talk to and was never angry or sharp with him, that he was almost non-verbal.
I don’t know what the big guy’s deal is.
Can he talk? Does he just not like to? I don’t want to admit it, but when it comes to men, Liam’s right.
It’s not that one bad apple spoiled everything for me.
It’s more than I wanted to focus on raising my son and giving him everything I could.
That didn’t involve me having time to date random guys, hoping to find a winner in a pool of ones who were usually…
not. I realized early on that whoever I dated meant that eventually, I’d have to introduce them to Liam.
I wasn’t more protective than the next parent, but that never sat well with me.
I didn’t want Liam to get attached to someone and then have things not work out.
I didn’t want to put Liam into a position, where someone could hurt him.
So, other than a few dates over the years, most of the time it was just us and we were happy.
It felt like we were building something that was entirely ours.
It might not be everyone’s dream, but having some money set aside, being my own boss, and putting Liam through college were the only things I ever truly wanted.
To me, this place is home and it’s a big fucking deal.
I finish two cappuccinos. I slide one across the counter for Cruz and take the other for myself.
I don’t want to say that my eyes linger a little bit too long when Cruz steps forward and his jacket parts to reveal a t-shirt stretched tight over a massive, hard chest, but I’m also not into lying to myself.
I fully confess that the only times I ever take notice of a man, it’s always the wrong kind, walking bundle of red flags edition.
I don’t think I have a type, but if I did, it would be all the men that are totally fucking wrong in the wrongest of wrong ways.
Yet another reason that never dating again and not having to go through all the drama and bullshit is appealing.
I never even considered getting back up on that horse after Liam moved to Seattle to work a year before college.
I hated being an empty nester. Hated the silence of not having him in our little apartment on top of the shop.
I started listening to podcasts and audiobooks instead.
I wasn’t going to go out and find someone just because I was sort of…
lonely. Liam not being at home, didn’t free me up to do anything.
I still work just as much, and I can make myself happy.
Liam moving was an adjustment. That was all.
“Mom?”
I realize that I’m standing here, frozen and staring at nothing. “Sorry.”
“Will you please sit down?”
“I’d rather stand.”
Liam inhales deeply, his cheeks getting a little red. “That’s rude.”
“What’s rude is coming in here and switching my open sign off during business hours.”
“This is important. It couldn’t wait. You’re not going to like what I have to say. You’re not going to like it a whole lot. So… please. Come here.” Liam sits down in the book nook corner. He pats the spot beside him on the couch. “Please.”
I walk over, but my body feels numb and there’s a rush in my ears that makes me feel a little bit faint. I clutch my mug as though it’s a lifeline.
Cruz takes one of the chairs across from us, though his huge frame causes the poor piece of furniture to do some very animated groaning.
“Okay…” Liam says as soon as Cruz is seated and shoots him a loaded look.
Liam’s eyes track to me and there’s so much there, guilt, worry, sorrow—that my stomach churns and my chest tightens.
“I’m going to explain everything. You’re going to be mad and upset and you’re going to be disappointed.
I get that. Let me finish and you can be all those things at the end once we get there, okay? ”
I swallow hard and vow that I won’t interrupt.
Not now, when I want to remind Liam that I’ve never raised my voice.
I’ve never even punished him without talking to him about what was happening first. I’ve tried to be fair.
To be an adult and still be someone he can love and trust. I’ve tried to protect him without being restrictive.
I’ve tried to explain that I’m human and I have emotions too, so that he can understand why I might be hurt, or disappointed in some of his decisions.
I’ve also explained that I’ve made plenty of my own mistakes, and that I’ve wounded and disappointed myself too.
“Okay.”
It’s a dreary day behind us, drizzling, the drops collecting on the windowpanes.
There’s a green truck parked down the street, but close enough to the front of the café that it might belong to Cruz.
Liam drove his old car into work this morning.
That’s one bonus of him working at a shop.
His high school first car is in better condition than it’s ever been.
I didn’t see it pull up, and I doubt it’s parked around back.
Some twinge in my stomach tells me that Cruz gave Liam a ride.
Maybe that’s how they know each other. I’ve driven by the garage Liam works at multiple times, always in the evening when I’m out doing errands, since it’s pretty much the only time I have off.
Another twinge coils in my stomach. Motherly warning. Concern. Worry. It spools out and turns into apprehension long before I drop into my seat and take a fortifying breath to fill up my burning lungs. Liam waits for me to brace myself, and then he starts talking.