Chapter 23 Mazzie
Mazzie
My legs were shaky as I stepped out of Lucas’s truck.
I took in the sprawling ranch-style house with its wraparound porch and rocking chairs that looked perfect for a relaxing night with a glass of sweet tea.
Nothing was relaxing about meeting Lucas’s mom, though.
I was definitely having second thoughts, thinking it was way too soon to meet the parents.
Then again, I’d kind of met his father already.
At least Mr. Allen had come to my rescue.
Mrs. Allen might be pushing me off a cliff.
The neighborhood felt worlds away from Lakemont—wide lots with plenty of breathing room, a hint of smoky barbecue drifting in the air from someone’s backyard, and a dog barking in the distance.
Lucas rounded the hood of his truck. “You were supposed to let me open your door.”
“I am a big girl,” I teased, smoothing my damp palms down my short skirt that Bailey had let me borrow.
He held out his hand. “So what? My job is to treat you like a queen.”
I couldn’t argue with that. I was digging how he doted on me like I was a precious jewel.
“You’re tense,” he said, guiding me along the brick path that led to the weathered porch.
“I’m about to be grilled by my boyfriend’s mother.”
“She doesn’t bite.” His reassurance fell flat as he pressed his hand harder into my back.
The door swung open and shook me into full-on panic mode.
Priscilla Allen stood framed in the doorway in her pale-blue dress and pearl earrings, her posture perfect. “There you are.” Her honey-sweet voice had an undercurrent I couldn’t quite place. “I was beginning to worry.”
Lucas kissed her on the cheek. “Sorry, Mom. Traffic.”
Her hazel eyes flicked to mine, and I felt the weight of judgement in her gaze. “Mazzie, so lovely to finally meet the woman who stole my son’s heart.”
“Thank you for having me, Mrs. Allen,” I managed, my voice steadier than I felt.
“Please, call me Priscilla.” She ushered me inside, her hand briefly touching my arm. “I hope you like pot roast. It was always Lucas’s favorite growing up.”
The home smelled of the savory meat, suddenly making my hunger pangs come to life. “Pot roast sounds amazing.”
My mom’s idea of cooking was frozen meals or her mac and cheese out of the box. Though I made spaghetti and meatballs, which was Kaylee’s favorite, whenever I had time.
“I need to check on the roast.” Priscilla hurried to the kitchen in the far right of the open floor plan.
The layout of the interior of the house was L-shaped—family room, dining area, and an airy kitchen with white cabinets and gray-and-white countertops.
The design was modest, tasteful, and inviting.
Nothing fancy. Nothing expensive. Though I hadn’t expected anything as elaborate as the Armstrong mansion.
After all, Mr. Allen had gambled away the family money.
Lucas pecked me on the temple. “See. Nothing to worry about.”
I begged to differ. With the pleasantries out of the way, I had no doubt the million questions would come soon enough.
I set my bag on a table in the foyer, then we joined his mom in the kitchen.
While Lucas pulled out a water pitcher from the fridge, I took a moment to look around.
A sliding glass door opened onto a deck, and beyond the inviting space were tall oak trees and a lush backyard that stretched toward the fence that surrounded it.
Pulling my gaze inside, I glanced at the family photos on the wall over the fireplace—Lucas in his football uniform through the years, he and his mom in front of the Christmas tree, and other pictures of a group of people.
None of the photos were of his father, which I guessed shouldn’t have surprised me.
“Your home is beautiful, Priscilla.”
She removed a large roast pan from the oven. “Thank you. It’s not much, but it’s ours. Please, have a seat at the table. We’re about ready to eat.”
“Can I help with anything?” I asked, moving toward the rectangular glass dining table, which was set with plates and silverware.
“You’re sweet, but you’re my guest,” she said.
Lucas carried the pitcher of water over to the table. “You can sit by me.” He pulled out my chair, giving me a warm smile. “I’ll be right back.”
He dashed off through an arched doorway that led to a hall.
Mrs. Allen busied herself spooning the potatoes, carrots, and meat onto a serving dish. “So, Mazzie, Lucas tells me you’re studying to be a doctor.”
“Yes, ma’am. Emergency medicine. The human body fascinates me.”
“I’m impressed.” She brought the platter of food to the table. “I also hear that you’re on track to graduate next year magma cum laude.”
I sat prim and proper. “Yes, ma’am.”
Getting through my senior year, however, was going to be harder than ever.
I would have to study for MCATs, fill out medical school applications, and deal with more difficult course work.
If my mom was released from jail, I might be working three jobs instead of two.
I might be taking care of her again, if she reverted to her old ways.
“I’m extremely pleased that you’re tutoring Lucas. He isn’t one to struggle with his subjects, but he’s never been good at writing papers, and I worry about his scholarship.”
No pressure there. “He’ll do fine,” I felt compelled to say.
She placed the rolls and the butter on the table then slid into the chair across from me. “Mazzie, if I may be honest, Lucas is the most important person to me—”
Here we go. I held up my hand. I needed to speak my mind before she gave me the third degree. “Please, Mrs. Allen, if I may. I know I’m here for you to see what I’m all about and if I’m good enough for your son. But frankly, that’s for Lucas to decide.”
She unfolded her napkin and placed it in her lap. “Then what will you do when he’s in the NFL?”
Cry. Scream. Sulk.
“Frankly, he and I just started dating. So talking about a future together is premature. Not only that, I have my own path to forge. It will take me years to get my medical license, and nothing will stop me.” I held my chin up despite the pesky nerves dousing my hunger pangs.
Dealing with my mom might slow me down, but I would not change my goals because of my feelings for Lucas or any man. I was not my mother.
Lucas returned, breaking the tension mounting between his mom and me. “What are you two talking about?” He eased into a chair beside me, his gaze suspect and his shoulders tense.
“Just how much I adore Mazzie,” Priscilla said with conviction. “Tough, speaks her mind, and sounds to me like she doesn’t take any flak from anyone.”
As if that was what Lucas needed to hear, he relaxed his shoulders. “I knew you would, Mom.”
I slid my hand onto his thigh as if to say, I can handle your mother.
Mrs. Allen offered me a large spoon. “Dig in.”
The next hour went by without a hitch as we talked about school, my mom, my sister, the upcoming games left in the season, and everything but Mr. Allen. I felt as though he was the elephant in the room that needed to be addressed, but I wasn’t about to bring him up.
“Do you think your mom will be released?” Priscilla asked. She hadn’t reacted poorly or become judgy when I’d told her my mom was in jail.
There were a lot of parallels between the Allen family and mine. Both families struggled to deal with the mistakes of loved ones. Those struggles had affected Lucas and me in different ways, but in the end, I believed we’d both become better people.
I shrugged. “My gut says she’ll probably do at least six months because of both charges.”
“If there’s any help you need,” Priscilla said, “I’m here. And bless Mrs. Armstrong for taking Kaylee.”
Lucas squeezed my hand underneath the table, seeing me tear up.
“I appreciate you, Priscilla.” I set my fork down and wiped my mouth with a napkin. “May I use the bathroom?”
I needed to compose myself before I started bawling, and I felt like I had a piece of meat in my teeth.
“First door on the right down the hallway.” She pointed to the arched doorway that Lucas had disappeared through earlier.
I grabbed my purse from the foyer, went into the bathroom, then dug out my floss. I wiped a smidge of mascara from the corner of my eye before I flossed my teeth. As I was finishing up, my phone pinged.
I traded the floss for my phone.
Bails
Checking to see how you’re doing.
Surprisingly, his mom is awesome. I didn’t think I would like her as much as I do.
Bails
I told you she was nice. I’m taking Kaylee to the mall. My mom gave her money to buy some new sneakers. Are you good with that?
It was still odd for me to accept the good things Mrs. Armstrong did for Kaylee and me, but I needed to get over my pride.
For sure. Your mom is now Kaylee’s temporary guardian, so I can’t argue. But I can take Kaylee tomorrow.
Bails
Nonsense. I love shopping. You don’t.
I love ya. But don’t you have plans with Erik?
Bails
We’ll talk later about that. Have fun.
I imagined she’d told Erik how she was feeling about their relationship.
Kiss Kaylee for me.
I dumped my cell in my bag, hiked it over myself in cross-body fashion, and headed back to Lucas and his mom. As I reached the end of the hallway, I heard my name.
“Mazzie is lovely, son,” Priscilla said. “I don’t feel like she’s the type to want that football fame that some girls are after.”
Lucas chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. “She’s nothing like any woman I’ve met, Mom. I love her.”
“Son, she’s perfect for you. Don’t let her slip away.” Priscilla’s tone held that maternal certainty that I wished my mother had.
Warmth spread through my chest that Priscilla really liked me.
“I can see you two walking down the aisle and making beautiful babies. You know I want grandkids.”
My breath stuttered. The hallway suddenly felt smaller. The walls, closer. Wedding? Grandkids? What in the freaking world? Lucas and I had recently poured out our feelings, and the I love yous were fresh and new. By no means were we ready to talk about the future or marriage.
“Mom, you’re getting way ahead of things,” Lucas said, easing that stinging pain in my lungs.
The doorbell rang, loud and insistent, and I jumped like I’d been caught red-handed.
“I’ll get it,” Lucas said, his footsteps already heading my way.
I bolted back into the bathroom, my heart punching my ribs. I didn’t want Lucas to catch me eavesdropping. Still, my implant needed to be replaced quickly because getting pregnant wasn’t an option for the foreseeable future—even if his mom wanted grandkids.
“What the hell are you doing here, Kurtis?” Lucas’s voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. “Who gave you the black eye?”
I stood close to the door, and once again, I was eavesdropping.
Priscilla squeaked out a high-pitched noise. “Oh my. Get in here. You’re letting out all the cool air.”
“Let me guess.” Lucas’s voice was tight as though he was ready to snap. “You owe someone money, and you don’t have it, which is why you're here.”
“I don’t need a lecture from my son,” Kurtis fired back, his tone caustic and defensive. “And no. I’m here to talk to your mother about the divorce.”
“I thought you two already discussed that,” Lucas said.
“Lucas,” Priscilla said, her tone dripping with a forced sweetness. “Why don’t you check on Mazzie? She’s been in the bathroom a long time.”
Forcing my feet to move, I scurried out of the bathroom then slowed my steps, taking inventory of their family tension.
Lucas stood rigid near the fabric bench along the wall, his broad shoulders hunching up to his ears. Kurtis hovered just inside by the door, the ugly black eye a stark reminder of his troubles.
Priscilla positioned herself between the two men like a referee in a boxing match.
While Lucas mostly resembled his mom, he had the same stubborn jaw as his father and the same fire in his eyes.
I cleared my throat, hoping to break up the family drama. Lord knew I had enough of my own, and I had on a few occasions broken up arguments between my mom and my dad, whenever he was in town.
Kurtis regarded me. “Nice to see you, Mazzie.”
“Likewise. I never thanked you for helping me with Josh.”
Lucas let out a low growl while his father flinched at Josh’s name. That was odd on Kurtis’s part. Though maybe not if his black eye was backlash for sticking up for me. I wouldn’t put it past Josh to beat up Kurtis for interfering in our little quarrel that night at the casino.
Lucas’s reaction was totally normal. He still couldn’t let go of the fact that Josh had shown up at my house.
Kurtis whisked a hand through his thin crop of hair. “You’re welcome.”
“Lucas, can you take me home?” I was ready to blow this pop stand.
“That’s a good idea.” Priscilla was as stiff as a board.
No one could blame her for wanting us to leave. Her son and husband were seconds from taking swings at each other, or at least Lucas’s clenched hands painted that picture.
“I’m not leaving you alone with him.” Lucas stabbed a finger at his father. “And I thought you were getting help for your addiction.”
“He is,” Priscilla said. “I’m helping him look for a good program.”
“Are you paying for it too?” Lucas asked.
“Son, your business right now is to pass your classes, play football, and graduate.” A firm side of Priscilla sprang up like a wildflowers in a field.
“Mrs. Allen, thank you for dinner. It was lovely.”
As I headed toward the door, Kurtis opened it.
I held out my hand to Lucas. “Come on, Lucas.” The least I could do was soothe my boyfriend’s anger somehow.
We were inside Lucas’s truck and halfway down his street when he sighed. “Do you think Josh gave my father that black eye because he helped you?”
“The thought did cross my mind,” I said. “Or your dad owes someone money. That’s a possibility too.”
“I swear if he tries to take money from my mom, I will kill him. But it’s time I talk to Josh.”
“For what?” Horror etched my tone.
“He’s looking for you. And I want to know why. And also if he gave my father that black eye.”
I leaned over the console and rested my hand on his thigh. “Babe, so what if Josh punched your dad? It’s not our business. As far as what Josh wants with me, it doesn’t matter. I’m with you.”
“It does matter if he won’t leave you alone.” A muscle ticked in his jaw.
“I haven’t seen Josh since the night at the casino. I haven’t even seen him on campus. And if I do, then I’ll find out what he wants. But I’m not poking the bear. If I reach out to him, he’ll take that as a sign that I care, and I don’t. Please, Lucas, let this go with Josh.”
His eyes glinted with fire. “Fine.”
I pursed my lips. “Promise me. You don’t need to jeopardize your football future. It’s not worth it.”
He gripped the wheel, knuckles turning white. “I promise.” His tone wasn’t convincing.
I sat back, flicking my gaze outside the passenger window, praying Lucas held his promise. Sure, he was broader and bigger than Josh, but Josh fought dirty.