27. Chapter 28
Chapter 28
CHARLOTTE
N early twelve hours later, one grocery run, two take-out pizzas, and hours of playing cards, Chris helps me put the finishing touches on my mother’s makeshift bedroom in the den. Everything except my twin bed is pushed against the perimeter of the room, and though it might not be perfect, it’s functional and will make life a lot easier until her knee heals.
“I can’t believe my mother sat there and played cards with us all afternoon,” I say with a shake of the head. I can’t even remember the last time we played a game together, so when Chris suggested it shortly after lunch, I thought for sure she’d shut him down.
Imagine my shock when she not only said yes but actually seemed excited by the idea. Then again, it’s Chris we’re talking about. I’m not sure there’s a female in a thousand-mile radius immune to his charms, and in the short amount of time he’s been here, he seems to have wrapped my mother around one of his very talented fingers.
“Do you think we can move this end table beside the bed for a nightstand?” I ask, and no sooner than the words leave my mouth does Chis lift the end table above his head and place it beside the bed.
“Show off,” I mutter.
“What good are muscles, baby, if you don’t put them to work.” Chris winks, flexing a bicep while I laugh, a blush creeping into my cheeks at the thought of how those muscles felt when he was hovering above me, flexing and bunching beneath my palms.
Pushing back my thoughts, I begin to strip the sheets from the bed, rolling them into a ball and handing them to Chris who is sporting a dopey grin. “What?” I ask as I start dressing it with fresh linens.
“I was just thinking I might want to keep these.” He raises the ball of pink cotton. “You know, to commemorate the best day of my life.”
I roll my eyes, chucking a pillow at him he catches with ease. “You’re such a man.”
With a laugh, he closes the gap between us and places the pillow at the head of the bed while I adjust the comforter. “You sure you want to stay here this week?” he asks, watching me.
“It’s only one week,” I say with a sigh. “And this way, I can make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid. If I go back to school tonight, or even in the morning, all I’ll do is worry about her. Commuting for one week won’t kill me.”
He reaches out and pulls me to him while his hands slide up my arms. “And you’re sure you’re okay sleeping on the couch?”
“It’ll be easier,” I say, which is the truth. What I don’t say is the thought of staying in my parents’ old bed gives me hives.
“Well, as much as I wish I could convince you to come back with me, I understand. I hate leaving you without a car, though.”
“I’ll use hers. Seriously,” I add when he gives me a skeptical look. “I’ll be fine.”
“Just remember everything we talked about,” he says, his tone firm. “We’ve arranged for more groceries and meds to be delivered, and once you’re gone next week, your neighbor will take her to therapy. No need to worry, right?”
“Right.” As long as I can convince my mother to go back to therapy in the first place.
“And in the meantime, I’m going to talk to my cousin April.”
“The physical therapist?” He mentioned her this morning when we were talking about how to help my mother.
“I’m sure she’d be more than happy to help you with some weekly sessions at home once your mom is ready.”
“Are you sure? That’s a lot to ask, and?”
Chris silences me with a kiss. “She’s family, and family helps family.”
“But I’m not family,” I say, worrying my lip with my teeth.
“ Yet.” For a moment, I think he’s referring to us and marriage, but then he smirks and adds, “Come March, when our parents get hitched, you will be.”
“Hilarious.” I poke him in the ribs, but he catches my hand.
“Remember, you don’t need to do it all. You have help, Lettie, people who care.”
With a sigh, I melt into him, soaking up every last touch before he has to leave. I know he’d stay with me longer if I asked him to, but I don’t want to be selfish when he’s already given me so much.
His arms tighten around me, and we stay like that, wrapped up in each other’s arms until he drops a kiss on my head and pulls away.
“You have to go,” I say, hating that it’s true.
“Yeah.”
“Come on, then,” I say with a sigh as I tug him from the room. “My mother will kill me if you don’t give her a proper goodbye.”
Chris smirks, his expression smug as I lead him down the hall and into the living room. My mother sits on the couch where we left her nearly an hour ago to set up her makeshift bedroom, sipping a cup of tea.
When she sees us, her cheeks turn a rosy pink, her expression brighter than I’ve seen it in a long time. She sets her cup of tea down on the coffee table in front of her, and looks like a whole new person than the one she was last night. “Are you kids finished?” she asks, her gaze bouncing between us.
“We’re finished,” I tell her as we round the couch.
“We’ve got you all set up in the den,” Chris says, taking a seat in the chair across from her. “Once your knee heals, I’ll come back and move the bed back up to Lettie’s room, but for now, it’ll be great not having to worry about stairs.”
My mother nods, offering up a rare smile. “Thank you.” Her gaze bounces over to me. “Both of you,” she says, and I nearly double over from shock at the words. In all my years of trying to help pull her from her depression, I’m not sure I’ve ever heard her say it.
“And that’s my cue to leave,” Chris says, slapping his hands against his legs.
“Already?” Mom glances up at me for confirmation, and I offer her a sad smile, no happier than she is at the prospect of his absence. “Why don’t I make you a cup of coffee for the road?” she asks, rising to her feet.
My brows rise as I gape at her. Who is this woman and where did she put my mother?
For weeks, she’s done the bare minimum even for herself, and here she is offering Chris a coffee.
“That’s not necessary, really,” Chris says. “It’ll just keep me up, and I have an early practice in the morning.” We exchange a private smile, and I know he’s thinking back to the same thing I am?to that night at Java the Hutt right after we had dinner with my father.
“Well, okay, if I can’t convince you to take a coffee, at least take some pizza with you. Charlotte and I will never finish it.” Mom motions toward the coffee table where the remnants of a pepperoni pizza sit.
“That’s okay,” he says, rising to his feet.
“No, really,” my mother insists.
They go back and forth like this a few times before I reach down and snatch the cardboard box off the coffee table, then shove it in his arms. “You know you want to,” I say with a knowing grin.
He takes it, his fingers lingering over mine when he sighs in a way I know has nothing to do with taking the pizza. “Fine. I do tend to get hungry on the road.”
I smile, hating to say goodbye as my mother rises to her feet with the help of her crutches, and he scoops her up in a hug before turning to me. Wordlessly, I put my hand in his and walk him to the door.
Knowing we have an audience, our goodbye is chaste as he pulls me in for a hug and a quick peck on the mouth. “See you back at school?”
I nod. “I’ll text you tomorrow.” Between football and classes, catching each other during the day before I head home after class will be tough, but we’ll make it work.
Once he’s gone, I turn around and join my mother on the couch, unable to hide my smile. “He’s lovely,” Mom says to me.
“You like him?” I ask, even though that much is obvious. Still, I so rarely get her approval.
“He’s wonderful.” Emotion flickers through her dark gaze as she sinks back into the couch with her cup of tea. “The two of you remind me so much of me and your father when we were that age.”
Her words prickle, and though I try to shake them off, they stick like glue.
I release a stilted laugh, more than a little uncomfortable with the comparison. “Oh, I don’t know about that. Didn’t you and Dad know each other when you were kids?”
Mom hums, staring off into space as if remembering. “Yes, but we didn’t really date until college. Besides, young love looks the same on everyone. I still remember how your father pursued me. Part of me just couldn’t fathom why he wanted me, you know? He was so suave and handsome, and all the girls wanted him. There’s something special about being chosen by someone like that, about feeling seen in that way. So, when I finally gave in, that was it for me. I fell hard, and there was no going back.”
I shift, her words pricking under my skin like thorns.
Chris and I are not my father and mother. I know that. Just like I know there is no room for comparison, but as I sit there across from her, watching the glow of happiness fade from her cheeks, I can’t help but feel like she’s sending me a message?a warning?that she and I are the same, and if I don’t watch, I’ll end up just like her.