46. Chapter 46
46
S pending the day with Leann puts an extra pep in my step. Something about her gives me energy I didn’t realize I was lacking. It’s as if she’s breathed new life into me, which feels wrong, but that’s the only explanation for what has happened.
We ate the lunch I brought with me; we sat and drank ice tea, took a walk down the street, and now I’m making dinner while we wait for Colt to get here.
“Did you have a good childhood, Libby?” Leann is full of questions. Most of the day was spent with her telling me all about Colt as a child, which I loved. So I suppose this question was inevitable, but it still causes me to stop mid-stir and consider how I answer it.
Do I tell her the truth? Should I sugar coat it? Make it vague? Nobody wants to sit at a pity party.
“Cancer doesn’t give me superpowers, dear. I can’t hear your thoughts.” For being someone who has a disease eating away at their body, she is full of quick wits. And it pulls a smile from me every time, making it impossible to get lost in my own head.
“It was typical, I think.” Everyone has problems growing up. Some are just worse than others. In the grand scheme of things, I think I had it pretty good. There weren’t any deaths. I wasn’t homeless. I was lucky enough to have friends and an escape when things got too bad.
Leann cocks a brow. “You think?” She is just like her son. Or I suppose I know where Colt gets his need for directness.
“Sure.” I shrug my shoulders and get back to stirring the gravy I’m making. “Nobody has an uneventful childhood, right?”
She stays quiet, so I peek over my shoulder and find her studying me with her face resting in her hand. “Tell me about yours.” It’s not fair that every question she asks is essentially a dying woman’s request. You’re obligated to give her anything she wants. Even if she weren’t, though, I have a feeling she would have me opening up, regardless. Talking to Leann is the easiest conversation I’ve ever had.
“Okay,” I say, pointing the spoon at her. “But you aren’t allowed to pity me.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
I turn the burner off and slide a sheet of biscuits into the oven before resting my hip against the counter. Crossing my arms, I brace for the impact of the memories that are going to come crashing in as soon as I open this door.
“My dad wasn’t a nice guy. He liked to yell and beat on my mom a lot. Sometimes he’d lay into me too, or lock me out at night if I put up too much of a fight. But I’d just go to my friend’s house. Actually, it’s Tyson’s sister, Blake.”
“He’s a good boy,” is all she says and waits for me to continue.
I smile and wonder if she knows about his sweet tooth. “That’s pretty much it. My dad left when I was seventeen and I haven’t seen him since.”
“And your mom?” She’s nothing like you .
“I talk to her a few times a year, but we aren’t close.” I wonder how different my life would be if I had a mom like Leann Gibson. If I’d grown up in a loving home.
“I see.” Her mouth twists slightly, and she nods her head. “Well, honey, I hate to say it, but that’s a shitty childhood.” I choke out a laugh at her uncensored words. “But don’t worry, I don’t pity you.” The promise is written in her eyes. “But only because I know that you’re right where you’re meant to be.” The backs of my eyes threaten to burn again just as the front door opens.
The front door creaks open and a moment later Colt walks into the kitchen, gracing us with his warm smile. “What are you two talking about?” He tips my face up and brushes his lips against mine.
“Just how I’ve been waiting for Libby here to come along,” Leann answers for the both of us.
“You aren’t the only one.” Colt’s smile sobers as his eyes burn into mine. He’s serious . The room closes in and suddenly we are all alone. Colt brushes the backs of his fingers down my arm before wrapping them around my own. His eyes dance between mine, silently asking me if I feel it, too. And I do. How in every other life, every version of existence, we still find each other. It’s always been him. It’s always been us. I feel every bit of it.
“Were you able to get a lot done at work?" His mom snaps us out of our bubble.
Colt clears his throat. “Uh, yeah. The job we’re working on now is just about done.” His tone is light-hearted, but I still catch the shadows on his face and the way his jaw clenches. His whole demeanor changes, but he recovers quickly. If Leann notices, she doesn’t say anything.
The timer on the oven goes off and Colt helps me dish up plates. “Are you okay?” I ask quietly. It’s not normal for Colt to seem so on edge.
He gives me a tight smile. “I’m okay.”
“Anything happen at work?” I can feel it in the air. Something is off.
Colt gets three forks from a drawer and places them on the plates. “No Libs, everything is good.” He grabs two of the plates and sets them on the table before coming back to grab the last one. I place my hand on top of his just before he takes it.
“I’m here if you need to talk about anything. You know that, right?”
He smiles again, but it still doesn’t match his eyes. “Of course,” he says, and kisses my forehead.
We spend the rest of the evening retelling Colt all the stories I got to hear about him today. The bit of cheek that peeks out from the top of his beard turns pink with each one. But he listens intently as we laugh about them all over again. And by the end, I can’t help but wonder if this is what it’s like to fall in love. The real way — unconditionally.