25. Chapter 25
Chapter twenty-five
Rowan
At three am, I gave up falling asleep and went down to the kitchen. Luckily, everyone was out when I returned home last night, so I grabbed a box of tissues and shut myself in the room I shared with Poppy. After a couple hours, I sent Lauren an image of a monkey because, despite her belief that I introverted when I should extrovert, I wanted to be alone. I turned off all the lights around nine, before Mom and Chris came home. When Mom cracked open the door and peeked into the room, I pretended to sleep. Poppy didn’t sneak in until after one. I know because I’d been staring at the ceiling for hours before I heard her hearse pull into the driveway. I rolled over to face the wall, and I listened for her breaths to even before I returned to my back to stare at the ceiling again, silent tears dripping from my eyes into my ears.
It shouldn’t hurt this much. Five weeks shouldn’t be enough for anyone to break my heart, especially someone who told me he could never love me. Sometime in the night, I decided there must be something seriously wrong with me for falling in love with men who were incapable of loving me back. Sure, Brad said he loved me. Early in our relationship he said it first and kept right on saying it, including the day I caught him with Kelli. The words were empty, and a part of me wondered if I meant them either. I had nothing to compare how I felt about Brad until Cal.
The way Cal treated me sometimes, like I was the most precious person in the world, had whittled through the walls I’d built around my heart. In the short time we were together, I’d never felt so interesting or beautiful. As much as it hurt, I wasn’t even mad at him. He’d flat-out told me not to get attached. Every tear I’d cried was my own fault.
It’d taken me five minutes to drag myself out of bed and downstairs. I went slow so I wouldn’t make noise and wake Mom, but it didn’t help that my feet felt like twenty-pound weights and my legs wobbled like overcooked spaghetti. Once I finally reached the kitchen, I pulled the flour and sugar from the pantry and got to work, grateful Lauren needed me to bake, so I had something to do other than wallow in self-pity. I’d knocked out three dozen cookies and was sliding a pan of jumbo blueberry muffins into the oven when Mom shuffled into the kitchen.
“I guess you’re on baker’s hours now,” she said, pouring herself a mug of coffee from the pot I’d brewed.
“I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”
Mom shook her head. “No, I was up there debating whether I should talk to you or let you work through whatever is wrong while you baked.”
“I’m not angst baking, Mom. I’m helping Lauren. She fired her baker.”
Mom nodded. “So I heard. I was talking about the fact you were in your room with the lights out when I got home instead of spending the night at Cal’s.”
“I was tired,” I said, dumping a measuring cup of batter into a fresh muffin pan.
“And I heard you crying.”
I spun around, flinging batter onto the floor. “You did not.”
“Maybe not with my ears,” Mom said with a sad smile. “But a mother’s heart is a powerful thing. Plus, your eyes are all swollen, and your nose is red.”
I shook my head. “I’m fine. You should stop drinking that coffee and go back to bed. I know you have a wedding later today.”
Mom yawned. “I do. I have to deliver the arrangements to a resort in Meadows of Dan. I hope I can keep my eyes open for the drive.”
I let out a sigh. “What time do they need to be there?”
“Noon. The trip takes an hour and a half.”
I nodded and glanced at the cookies cooling on racks and the waiting batter. “I should have enough done by then to ride along with you.”
“Great,” Mom said with way too much energy for someone who claimed she wouldn’t be able to keep her eyes open moments before. “The arrangements are finished. Mind if I help you? I do love a good baking sprint.”
“Fine. But no music.”
Mom nodded and went to the sink to wash her hands. “I was thinking,” she said as I kneaded the dough I had rising on the counter. “Why don’t we stay over. It might be nice to get away for a bit.”
I narrowed my eyes. “And you just happen to know they have a room available?”
“I checked before I came downstairs. The night clerk offered the room at a great price for Saturday and Sunday night. I’ve always wanted to stay over.”
“You can leave Red Blossoms that long?”
“I usually take Sundays off. And we’d be back Monday before ten.”
“I don’t know, Mom. Lauren is relying on me.”
“Between the two of us, we can bake enough to supply Karma until Monday afternoon. Come on, Rowan. The resort has a spa and a fire pit and the best hiking trails. Plus, there’s an observatory where you can look at the stars. I’ve been so busy, I feel like I’ve barely seen you, and if you accept that job offer, you’ll be leaving soon.”
I blew out a breath. “You know about the job.”
“Of course,” Mom said, pulling the finished tin of muffins from the oven and sliding in a new one. “A mother’s heart hears everything.”
By ten thirty, we’d delivered enough baked goods to keep Lauren stocked until Monday, and Chris had loaded the Red Blossoms delivery van with all the flowers for the wedding.
“Want me to follow you in my car and help unload?” Chris asked as Mom and I climbed into the van.
Mom shook her head. “No, sweetie. You have training with Cal later. I can handle these on my own.”
My heart ached when I heard his name, but I busied myself arranging the snacks Mom had insisted we bring. I felt like a kid again, going on a delivery run with my mother. She’d even bought a box of Sour Patch Kids, a bag of Doritos, and two large fountain Pibbs, our standard snack selections on the rare occasions we made deliveries together once Poppy was old enough to watch Chris.
“I know you like your quiet in the mornings,” Mom said, buckling her seatbelt as I waved goodbye to Chris. “But I need my music to drive.”
I smiled, despite how exhausted and broken I felt. “It wouldn’t be a road trip without Cyndi.”
“This is a Tina Turner kind of day,” Mom said, blasting her favorite play list.
We sang along, badly, sharing snacks the entire drive, and pulled into the resort just before noon. Mom drove the van to the back entrance of an enormous structure that looked like a grain silo. At first, it seemed out of place with the overall elegance of the resort, but then I noticed all the windows in the tower.
“Is this the observatory?”
Mom nodded. “The roof opens at the top. The wedding is taking place in the Galaxy Room.”
“That’s so romantic,” I said, looking up at the tall tower.
Mom nodded. “I’ve always hoped one of you kids would get married here.”
Brad and I had eloped to Las Vegas, which wasn’t something I’d ever thought I’d do, but he convinced me he couldn’t wait another day to marry me. I told myself it was easier, but a part of me regretted not having a moment to shine. Now I think he just assumed we’d have to pay for the event ourselves and decided he’d rather not.
“There’s still time,” Mom said with a smile.
My eyes stung. “Let’s get these flowers inside before they wilt.”
Mom shook her head. “No, way. You’re sitting here until I’ve unloaded everything, and then we can check in.”
I shifted in my seat. “I’m going to take a walk to stretch my back.”
My phone rang as I admired the stunning mountain views from the resort’s lawn. I blew out a breath when I saw Lauren’s name.
“You lied,” she said.
“Technically, I texted you a monkey.”
“Which, we’d established meant you were having wild sex, not crying your eyes out because Cal’s an idiot. He was just in here with Avery, and that combined with how you looked this morning when you made the delivery makes me wonder if I should have spat in his Chai.”
“He’s just asking her to take down the negative reviews she posted.”
“Yeah, I gathered that while I made their drinks, which is the only reason I kept my spit to myself. But he avoided eye contact the whole time. Admit it, you sent me a lying monkey. I need info.”
“Please, Lauren,” I said, my throat tightening. “It hurts too much to talk about it.” Someone grabbed the phone from my hand. Mom had abandoned her flowers on a cart behind the van. “Lauren, sweetheart,” she said, after putting the call on speaker. “Rowan and I are staying at a resort in Meadows of Dan until Monday morning. If I haven’t gotten the information out of her by then, you can have a crack at her when we get back.”
“Ok, Mrs. Stevens,” Lauren said and ended the call.
“That should buy you some time.” Mom returned my phone, then gripped my shoulders. “I brought you here because I want you to think about your next step. You need to decide what you want. Not what I want or Poppy or Lauren wants, but what would make you happy. Which is why I’m driving home after I set up these arrangements and check you into your room.”
“You’re seriously leaving me here alone?” I said, looking around the picture-perfect grounds where couples and families drifted toward the golf course, trails, and tennis courts.
Mom nodded. “There’s an amazing spa where you can get a massage, or you can just order room service and watch TV.”
“This place had to cost a fortune,” I said. “You could have rented me a room at the Holiday Inn off 81 if you wanted me to sit alone and think.”
“No,” Mom said with an edge to her voice. “You deserve the best in life, Rowan. I wasn’t able to give you that when you were younger. You spent too much of your childhood taking care of Poppy, Chris, even me, on occasion. I know you gave and gave in your marriage, and it kills me that all that love and care was wasted on a man like Brad. But, baby, it’s time to stop putting everyone else first. You refused to let me help you after the accident because you wanted to protect me. Well, I refuse to let you drift into the next chapter of your life without being absolutely certain it’s what you want. Peace Falls is your home and always will be. But if it’s too small for the life you dream of, then go. If you want that big job in DC, take it, and I will help you pack with a smile on my face. But don’t do it because you think you have to prove yourself to anyone. Or because you’re running away from a man who’s too damaged to recognize love when it smacks him in his ridiculously chiseled face.”
“Mom,” I said, my voice breaking.
“I mean it, Rowan. Do not let a man stop you from being where you want to be. Whether that’s DC, Peace Falls, or anywhere else in this big world.”
She pulled me into a hug, and I sobbed on her shoulder long enough to worry about the flowers.
“You can’t ruin someone’s wedding because I’m having a breakdown,” I sniffed.
Mom handed me a rumpled tissue from her pocket and turned us to face the van, where someone had already removed the cart. “A friend of mine works here and insists on helping me bring in the arrangements.”
She blushed and cleared her throat when a silver fox of a guy pushed the cart outside and folded it into the van. He gave us both a wave before he went back inside the building.
I raised my eyebrows at Mom, but she just swatted my arm. “Let’s go. I’ll get you checked in and come back to place everything.”
After a stop at the front desk, Mom carried my bag to a gorgeous room overlooking the mountains and placed it on one of the two queen-sized beds. There were rich hardwood floors throughout and a separate sitting area by the windows with a plush couch. It was without question the nicest room I’d ever stayed in.
“This is huge,” I said. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay with me?”
Mom shook her head but let out a sigh when she peeked in the bathroom. “Promise me you’ll soak in the tub.”
I leaned into the bathroom and took in the deep soaking tub surrounded by beautiful glass tiles. It looked like something out of a luxury travel blog.
“Order whatever you want to eat,” she said, giving my shoulder a squeeze. “Do whatever you want to do. I’ll know if you don’t charge anything to the room or put something on your own card.”
“Can you afford all this?” I asked, motioning to the room.
“Honestly, yes,” she said. “I know things were tight when you were younger, and you had to take out loans for school. If you let me, I’d like to pay them back now, or help you somehow. I never could have built Red Blossoms without you taking on what you did at home. Staying here a couple nights is small by comparison. Just promise me you’ll enjoy it. Have a good cry if you need to, but then hike or swim. Eat all the desserts.”
I pulled Mom into one more hug before she left me alone to figure out what I wanted to do with the rest of my life.