Chapter 14
CHAPTER 14
Raffo bounded down the stairs transformed, excitement replacing her earlier tension. Yet Dylan’s own anxiety lingered because Connor’s perfectly ordinary phone call had left her feeling like the worst mother on the planet.
“Good news?” Despite feeling guilty, Dylan couldn’t help but mirror Raffo’s smile.
“The best. I’m going to have a show in the number one art gallery in Chicago this fall. It’s like a dream.”
Dylan was so happy for Raffo to get some good news for a change. Yet, she stopped herself from getting up to hug her—she was barely wearing any clothes.
“That is so well-deserved. Congratulations.”
Raffo pumped her fist. “Fuck, yeah. It’s really great.”
“How was Con?”
“Good, I think. I didn’t really ask, to be honest. He was over the moon about the news. He wanted to call me as soon as he heard.” A shadow crossed Raffo’s face. “Don’t worry. I didn’t give away that you’re here, but, um, I would really prefer if I didn’t have to do that again. If I didn’t have to pretend like that.”
“I know, Raffo. I’m so sorry. Thank you for… keeping my secret.”
“Why is it so difficult for you to tell him? Connor’s a great guy with lots of empathy and it’s not like you lost his money.”
“As a parent, it’s hard to admit a stupid mistake like that to your child. And I don’t want him to worry about me.” Or lose respect for me .
“Being a parent doesn’t make you any less human, nor immune to making mistakes. Connor will be so much more upset that you lied to him about being in Europe than about you making a bad investment.”
“I know but I just… need this time. Time for myself, without having to worry about Connor and what he thinks of me, but also about what I’m going to do next. I need time to decide and once I’ve made my decision, if I choose to sell, I need time to say goodbye to this house.”
“It’s not for me to push you, I know that,” Raffo said. “Nor to question your reasons for being here and for not telling Con, but… Dylan, surely you know that he will not think any less of you. I’ve only just met you and I already know, in every cell of my body, that you are an amazing person. I can say that with confidence because I know Connor very well. That buys you some credit. You’re not some shitty parent who never tried and never did anything right, only to lose a bunch of money on top of everything else. You raised a wonderful son who will understand this, because of how you brought him up.”
Dylan was moved by Raffo’s kind words, but guilt still gnawed at her. Losing half a million dollars wasn’t just financially devastating—it had shaken her to her core. She might have two properties, but her savings account was empty. She had gambled, and lost—not only money, but a lot of self-esteem as well. It forced her to take stock of herself and of her life—and the decision to quit her job.
“Thanks,” Dylan said, feeling rather inadequate again. “Let me get you some fresh coffee.” Sometimes, going into automatic mom-mode was the easiest, most comforting, thing to do—even though her own son hadn’t needed hands-on mothering in a long time.
“I’ll get the coffee,” Raffo said. “You sit. Take a load off.” Raffo was still dressed in what passed for her pajamas, showing a lot of skin—although not nearly as much as Dylan, she realized. Dylan had been about to jump into the lake, to give her body a jolt of energy to start the day with, but she’d rather sit here drinking coffee with Raffo instead.
Dylan finally dove into the lake an hour later, after Raffo had left for another hike. She pushed through the water trying to burn off the restless energy that had arrived with her unexpected house guest. Dylan had taken to the lake every day since she’d arrived, but she hadn’t felt this urge to move her body, to exhaust it, before Raffo had arrived.
She tried focusing on her stroke—the rhythm of her arms cutting through the water, the steady kick of her feet—but her thoughts kept circling back to Raffo. To Raffo’s mother. To Mia and the open relationship and the new woman who looked like a Scandinavian beach volleyball player. To Raffo’s question last night about the two women Dylan had been with. She’d Googled Alex this morning, before Raffo had gotten up. She was a professor at the University of Chicago—probably close to retirement age. Chicago made Dylan think about the news Raffo had received from Connor, and that started her brain up in the wrong direction again. Dylan hoped Raffo would only get good news from now on. Her tears last night had been heartbreaking. To see Raffo crumble like that had touched her deeply. Raffo had shed a tear on the first evening as well—Mia clearly had done a number on her—but last night’s torrent had been different. Everything about last night had been different. The conversation deeper, the vibe more intense, the connection between them more profound—as though the two of them being in this house together worked as a pressure cooker for their emotions.
As Dylan swam back to the house, she figured it was only logical that her thoughts kept drifting back to Raffo because they were in this emotional pressure cooker together. They were each dealing with their own turmoil, but being able to share it with each other so unexpectedly, brought them closer together.
As she caught sight of the house, which would be very difficult for her to part with—especially after this particular stay, no matter its reasons—Dylan could only hope that Raffo would get her painting mojo back soon. She was absolutely dying to find out what that painting of her would look like. And every time she thought about Raffo, so deliciously awkwardly, asking her permission to paint a topless picture of Dylan, it brought a smile to her face—which was not ideal while swimming. Still smiling, Dylan coughed up some water, as she approached the pier of the house she would have to sell.