Chapter 19
and you’re here because…
Hannah
“Well, well, well. How the turn tables.”
Mom meets my wry smile and pushes the door wide, gesturing for me to come inside. “Har, har,” she says.
I toe off my heels, toss my purse on the entry table. “I’m just saying, you asked me to come over. Feels like a milestone moment. Core memory material.”
Rowan wanted to see me tonight. There’s so much I need to tell him about the time I’ve spent with Norm.
When I saw the weight he’d been carrying all these years, the guilt punched me right in the gut.
It was selfish of me to keep my relationship with his grandfather a secret, and I wish I could go back and start over. Do things right.
I was ready to say yes to his invitation, but then Mom asked me over to watch Dirty Dancing and eat pizza. This almost never happens—I knew I couldn’t pass it up.
Rowan understood without complaint. We made plans to see each other tomorrow instead.
Mom deserves an explanation about Norm too.
She’d gotten to know him some on the occasions she accompanied me to the VFW.
I don’t know if I want to open the full can of worms that was Rowan and my night together all those years ago, but she at least deserves to know the truth about the connection between the two.
I scrounge up an old college sweatshirt from Mom’s closet and layer it over my work clothes. Folding my hair into a clip, I find Mom on the living room couch. A frozen pizza fresh out of the oven sits on the coffee table, a bowl of popcorn nearby, movie queued up on the screen.
“My gosh, you really pulled out all the stops tonight. I regret to inform you you’re not really my type.” I plop down on the sofa and grab two pieces of pizza. “But I’d love it if we could remain friends.”
She chuckles and slides me a bottle of water. “I thought a mom-daughter movie night was in order.”
I eye her sidelong. “Uh huh, I call BS.”
“My daughter the comedian.”
“I’ll have you know, I gave up a night with a handsome, tattooed soldier for this.” I pass her a slice.
Her face drops. I hide my smile around a bite. “Rowan?” she asks.
Mouth full, I nod.
“Oh, honey, I’m sorry. Please, go. You don’t have to—”
“Mom,” I laugh. “It’s fine. I’ll see him tomorrow.”
Hesitation lines her features like she’s not sure if she should laugh with me. I drop her gaze and dust the crumbs off my hands, nonchalant.
“So…you guys hit it off? Last night, after…everything?”
I set my face into a neutral expression, ignoring the way my blood runs cold. The events of last night are not up for discussion.
“Is that why you invited me over? To fish for more details about what happened?” She matches my stare with an unrepentant one of her own. “Because I already told you I’m fine.”
“I won’t apologize for being concerned about your well-being.”
“That is rich coming from you.”
Her head jerks back. You’d think I offended her, but I can read my mother like a book. It’s not offense. It’s hurt.
The sight softens my indignation. “Mom,” I say evenly.
“I’ll make you a deal. You tell me you’re fine and you don’t want me over here or calling to check up on you all the time, and now I’m asking you for the same.
If I say I’m fine and I don’t wanna talk about it, then that’s it. You have to let that be it.”
“Haddy, it’s not the same th—”
“That’s the deal, Mom.”
Her eyes lock mine in a dare. A challenge to push back, to negotiate the terms.
“I’ll agree on one condition.” I fold my arms and wait for her to continue. “If you’re ever not fine anymore, I want you to promise to tell me.”
My brows furrow. “Mom, if I’m ever not okay you’re always my first call.” She nods. I breathe deep, forcing down my own concern. For her. “Am I yours?”
Her frail hand reaches for mine, the wear and tear of the past eight years evident in the weak grip and pallid skin. “Always, sweetheart.”
“Okay, then.”
We spend a few moments in companionable silence as the heaviness dissolves.
“So,” she finally says around a bite. “Am I allowed to ask about Rowan?”
She tiptoes back into the gray area, chewing at the pace of a sloth. I’d laugh if the situation wasn’t serious.
“Actually, there’s something I need to tell you.” Mom sets her pizza aside and shifts on the couch to face me. “Norm passed away last week.”
Her face twitches in confusion for a moment before she places the name. “Oh no! How?”
“Rowan said it was a heart attack.”
“How does Rowan know—”
“He’s Norm’s grandson.” I look away, voice dipping. “I met Rowan the night I ran out on my wedding.” I swallow. “He introduced me to Norm.”
Mom tries so hard not to smile, but the sparkle in her eyes can’t be hidden.
“Rowan was the one you left with.” Not a question, a hopeful acknowledgment laced with awe.
An understanding she’s waited five years to feel.
That aha moment when the last Tetris piece clicks into position and a tower of barriers falls away.
“Yeah,” I breathe.
Despite the ruined dress, tattered heart, and soul-level ache when I left the next morning, the night of my failed vows was the best night of my life.
All because of a handsome stranger on a motorcycle who saw me through my worst and introduced me to his grandfather who went on to become one of my favorite people.
Everything about those twelve fateful hours felt like a tiny treasure best kept hidden in my heart, tucked in the corner where the world couldn’t touch it. Because if too many hands gained access to it, the polish might wear off and the magic would be lost forever.
“And the mystery of the Sunday afternoon chess matches with the Golden Boys is finally revealed,” she says with a victorious fist in the air.
I snicker in confirmation and grab two more slices.
“Do I finally get the tale of what you did that night?”
Sighing, I toss the pizza back on the tray and sink into couch. “I don’t know, Mom. It was all so…” I shake my head, eyes glued to the ceiling while I search for words.
Mom nudges my foot. “So what?”
My head falls to the side and I meet her gaze.
“How do you explain something that by any measure was entirely insignificant but wholly unforgettable all at once?” A soft smile pulls up one side of her mouth.
“It felt easier to not talk about it at all because I could never make sense of it.” I shrug.
“And Norm averaged about fifteen words a month so I knew he’d never say anything. ”
She laughs. Together, we stare at the television frozen on the opening credits of the movie. Neither of us move for the remote.
“And now?” Mom asks.
I pop a weary shoulder. “Now he’s leaving in two weeks.”
“To go where?”
“Back to his post, I assume. I’m not sure, though. I didn’t get a chance to ask him.”
“And you’re here because…”
I give her my best Timberlake stare.
She arches a brow. “You gonna cancel our brunch tomorrow?”
“Of course not,” I scoff. “What kind of monster do you think I am?”
“Then get outta here,” she says, kicking my foot off the couch. My mouth gapes. “I mean it. Go.” She flicks her hands toward the door. “Shoo, be gone. You can catch me up at J&J’s.”
I climb to my feet but make no real effort to stay. “Wow. From my own blood. This hurts, Mom. Hurts.” I’m already putting on my shoes and peeling off my sweatshirt.
“Yeah, you look real broken up about it.”
Using the mirror over in the entryway, I remove the hair clip and run my fingers through my loose waves. “You still gonna watch the movie?”
Mom guffaws, reaching for the remote. “Am I gonna watch the—what kind of monster do you think I am?”
She presses play and I blow her a kiss on my way out.
I open my texts once I’m inside my car.
Me
Where are you?
Three dots pop up right away. My foot taps rapidly on the floorboard.
Rowan
At my grandparents’ Boulder house. Where are you?
Me
Leaving Mom’s.
Rowan
Are you inviting yourself over?
Me
Me? I would never.
Rowan
Says the woman who practically threw herself on the back of my motorcycle five years ago.
Me
Didn’t hear you complaining.
Rowan
And you never will.
You’d also never steal someone’s sweatshirt.
Me
Nope. Never. I’m a law abiding citizen.
My cheeks hurt from smiling so dang hard.
The three dots appear, disappear, and reappear multiple times before my phone finally pings.
*Rowan has sent you a pin*
Another ping.
Rowan
Get the hell over here, runaway.