53. Garrett
Chapter Fifty-Three
GARRETT
E mma’s mother’s house was the tiniest two-story structure he had ever seen. It stood in the middle of a crowded block with homemade concrete sidewalks.
It was an odd layout for a residential area. So many homes set so closely together next to the roads while the woods stretched out behind them as if they were huddling together for protection against the elements.
Or more like the people who built these houses wanted to save some cash when they tapped into the city water lines. That was the only explanation for putting two streets worth of houses into one.
He spun in a circle, taking in the whole neighborhood. It probably hadn’t looked so bad when they were new, but now, fifty years on, the clear signs of economic depression made for a grim little enclave.
The white wood paneling of each home was overdue for a paint job. Compared to the neighbor’s houses, the Mendez home was in great shape, with a green patch of grass and no clutter in sight.
No HOA around here, he thought, noting the broken-down Honda on the dead lawn a few houses down. But he smiled at Emma when she turned to check his reaction, all the while making a mental note to check the crime stats for this neighborhood .
His wife would be devastated if something happened to her mother and little sister. Fortunately, she was too excited to notice his less-than-enthusiastic reaction to their surroundings.
“Why are we going through the side door?” he asked as she skirted the neat square of grass in front of the house to walk up the cracked concrete driveway.
“It’s the kitchen,” she said, waving him on impatiently. Emma fairly skipped up the steps, she was so excited.
He followed more sedately, determined to keep an open mind. He had to make a good first impression.
Sunlight streamed through a two-panel slider window on the left, illuminating a dated but scrupulously clean kitchen in white and yellow tile. But the crowded kitchen counters and cracked linoleum didn’t detract from its overall cheerfulness.
The kitchen table was pine, with two chairs on one end and a cushioned bench on the other. A dark-haired woman sat on one of the chairs, a pile of papers in front of her.
Emma threw her arms out. “Mom.”
Mariana Mendez turned around. She was a touch gray now at the temples and she might have gained a couple of pounds, but other than that she hadn’t aged a day from their school days.
When she saw Emma, the tight expression on her face eased, the line between her brows disappearing. She jumped up to hug her oldest daughter, giving Garrett an unobstructed view of the documents on the table.
It was a pile of bills.
He hung back during the mother-daughter reunion. Squeals and warm hugs were exchanged. For a few moments, he let his mind drift. Would his mother have hugged him like that after a long absence?
She would have, right?
Phil’s greetings were warm enough, he supposed. As for his father— not a hugger.
“I’m so glad you made it,” Mariana said, finally breaking away. “I wasn’t sure your boss would give you the days off so I didn’t tell Stella you were coming. She’s going to be so surprised.”
“Oh, well, I have more days than I thought.” Emma twisted to give him a meaningful look, a silent warning not to contradict her. “Garrett, this is my mom. Mom, this is Garrett.”
Stepping forward, he set their overnight bags down on the floor. He stuck out his hand. “Thank you so much for having us.”
Mariana nodded, smiling vaguely as if she didn’t know what to make of him. “You’re welcome. Thanks for bringing my baby home.”
Emma snickered. “I am your grown daughter. Your baby is the birthday girl. Is she still at school?”
“Nope.” Mariana pointed straight up.
Emma beamed and pulled away, twisting and squeezing his arm. “I’m going to say hi to Stella. I’ll be right back.”
She practically ran out of the room. The sound of pounding footsteps rose as if she was running up a flight of stairs. Then he heard her walking directly overhead. A much younger-sounding feminine squeal followed.
Garrett smiled at Emma’s eagerness. When he turned to Mariana, she was watching him, a crease between her brows.
Damn. She looked a lot like her daughter when she did that.
Be harmless . “Thanks so much for letting me tag along with Emma for the weekend.”
“Oh, it’s fine,” she said, scrutinizing him as if he was a puzzle piece that didn’t fit. “Always happy to welcome one of Em’s friends. I hope you’re okay on the cot. I, uh, didn’t expect you to be so tall.”
Well, there went the hope that Emma had prepared her mother since their talk.
Garrett was suddenly seeing a weekend of separate beds in his immediate future. That was not happening. He had to nip this in the bud.
“Thanks. Although, I should add that technically, we’re more than friends. She did mention getting married, didn’t she?”
The smile dropped off Mariana’s face. “Yes. For the health insurance.”
You handle tense negotiations all the time. Be polite but direct .
“It’s, um, it’s not about the insurance anymore. Although we might wait for Emma to come back down before we continue.”
Well, that was smooth. He didn’t want to have this conversation without Emma.
“Oh.” Mariana’s expression softened as she put two and two together. “You’re a real couple. That’s great. Emma hasn’t dated anyone since…”
“Since the accident.”
Mariana looked relieved. “Oh, good. I wasn’t sure you knew.”
He shrugged haplessly, fervently wishing his wife had prepped her mom a little better. “The fact she didn’t remember me was kind of a dead giveaway.”
Mariana crossed her arms, muttering something under her breath. The frown was back. “I thought you looked familiar. Are you from here?”
“I am… you actually worked for my aunt Philomena for a little while.”
Recognition filtered, settling into the grooves of Mariana’s mouth. This was not happiness to see him.
“You’re a Martin,” she said.
This was delivered in the same tone as someone announcing, ‘Oh, you’re a Nazi.’
Well, shit . This conversation was happening now. For some reason, he’d always assumed Emma would be here to act as a shield.
He cleared his throat. “Yeah. My mom was Iris Martin. Technically, I’m a Chapman.”
Judging from her expression, this might have been worse, although he couldn’t see why.
“I see,” she mumbled.
He rubbed his temple, uncertain how to proceed. His mother-in-law was the woman his aunt blamed for the end of her marriage.
Garrett had been old enough when they broke up to know it wasn’t that simple, but this was still excruciatingly uncomfortable.
Regardless of what Phil would say, he had to build a cordial relationship with this woman.
“We didn’t formally meet before,” he began. “But I saw you around town a lot. You and Emma. You were at our high school production of Much Ado about Nothing —because of the two grades she skipped, we were in a lot of the same classes.”
Her head drew back, pivoting to look in the direction Emma had gone when a particularly loud squeal filtered downstairs.
“You were in the play?” she asked.
Garrett put his hands in his pockets, trying to switch gears and steer the conversation away from the contentious topic of his family.
“Yeah, I was Don John and Emma was a great Beatrice.” He broke off. “I know Emma hasn’t been all that receptive to reconnecting with anyone she knew before the accident, so the fact she married someone from Verdant Falls must be kind of a shock. There’s a funny story about that. Well, sort of funny, depending on your point of view…”
He trailed off when the sound of thunder signaled Emma coming back down the stairs. For a small woman, she could make a racket.
Of course, that could have had something to do with the ricketiness of the structure. Even the child following her sounded like a pint-sized elephant trailing in her wake.
Add a building inspection to the to-do list. He’d pay for the contractor himself.
Emma burst into the kitchen a moment later, holding the hand of an adorable dark-haired girl dressed in a green sweater dress with a tulle skirt.
“Garrett, I want you to meet my baby sister, Stella.”
Prepared to be charmed by a pint-sized Emma, Garrett looked down. He took one look at the child staring up at him with her big brown eyes and felt all his blood drain to his feet.
Holy shit . Stella was the spitting image of his mother.