8. Chapter Eight
Chapter Eight
S he wrung her hands together.
Carrie watched as Mayor Woodard walked around the shop, stopping here and there to examine the chocolates. The mayor took her time. Carrie didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.
The woman’s snow-white hair was short and stylish. Around her neck was a strand of pearls. She wore a red skirt suit with a white blouse and brown loafers with chunky soles.
Carrie’s opinion of the mayor was that she cared about appearances, but she’d make exceptions out of necessity, as was evidenced by her choice of shoes. The mayor was a fair woman and loved to help Bayberry’s residents.
The question remained of whether the mayor would find Totally Chocolate appealing. It wasn’t perfect. She’d had to cut some corners when it came to the furnishings. Still, she’d given everything a thorough makeover.
The decorations she’d picked up at yard sales and estate sales. Most of the funds she’d been able to save went toward the kitchen equipment and the display cases. The renovations had cost more than had been quoted, so she had to make up the money somewhere in the budget.
Alice leaned over and whispered, “Does she like the place?”
“I don’t know.” Carrie honestly didn’t have a clue.
Mayor Woodard maintained a stoic expression. Carrie felt as though if the mayor didn’t approve of the shop that her listing on the Happy Hearts would be removed. Brittany would probably be more than happy to comply.
Carrie approached her. “Would you care to sample some of the chocolate?”
The mayor was quiet for a moment before she nodded. “Yes. I would like that.”
Alice rushed behind the counter before Carrie could move there. Alice presented the mayor with a cheerful smile. “What can I get for you?”
The knot in Carrie’s stomach tightened. She should be doing something other than standing there wordlessly, but her mind wasn’t cooperating. She told herself to calm down. She inhaled a deep breath, held it, and then released it. She could do this. She had to do this.
“It’s chilly out,” Carrie said. “Could I interest you in some hot cocoa?”
Mayor Woodard looked at her, and for the first time since walking into the shop, she smiled. “I would like that.” She turned to her assistant, a young man named Tyler Mathers. “Would you like some?”
Tyler nodded.
“I’ll be right back.” Carrie moved behind the counter.
She walked over to the gently-used espresso machine, which she’d purchased to provide her customers with both hot cocoa and mochas. She steamed the milk and added chocolate flakes until she created a creamy, steamy concoction.
When she had two mugs filled, she topped them off with whipped cream and sprinkled them with finely ground chocolate. She moved to the table where the mayor and her assistant had taken a seat. She placed the red mugs in front of them. “Is there anything else I can get you?”
Just then Alice approached the table with two small plates in her hands. She set them on the table next to their guests. Each plate had three chocolates on them.
The mayor smiled. “This all looks wonderful. Thank you.”
Both Carrie and Alice quietly backed away. When they once more stepped behind the counter, the front door opened. Carrie mentally kicked herself for not locking it.
When Jackson stepped inside, her heart beat faster. She dismissed it as nervousness. Nothing could go wrong with this visit from the mayor.
When his brown gaze met hers, she shook her head. Her attention moved to the mayor before returning to him.
Jackson’s eyes momentarily widened when he spotted the mayor. He nodded in understanding and then quietly backed out the door.
The mayor was particularly quiet as she sampled the chocolate and then sipped her hot cocoa. Maybe her quietness was due to the fact that her phone was on the table, and it appeared to be distracting her.
Carrie couldn’t just stand there in anticipation. She grabbed a cloth and cleaned the already clean display cases.
While she worked, she wondered what Jackson had wanted. Maybe it had something to do with his mother. There was a part of her that wanted to go after him, but another part told her to stay put. This visit from the mayor could make or break her fledgling business. But her thoughts quickly returned to Jackson...
He paced.
Jackson couldn’t sit still. He had no idea what to expect from this meeting with his mother. The last time he’d seen her, she was angry with him. She was certain there was nothing wrong with her, but she’d conceded to go to the treatment to prove to him that she was right.
He wouldn’t be surprised if he had been summoned to take her home. And if that were the case, he had no idea what he’d do next. His mother couldn’t go back to her old ways. She would lose her home.
He paced back and forth in the small room. When his phone rang, he turned it off. He didn’t want to be disturbed when he spoke to his mother. The truth of the matter was that he didn’t even know what to say to his mother after their boisterous argument when he’d tried to reason with her about her problem—a problem she refused to admit existed.
He heard the jiggle of the door handle and the merest creak as the door opened. Jackson spun around.
His mother stood in the doorway. In that moment, he felt like his seven-year-old self, seeing his mother for the first time after she’d returned from Wyoming, where she’d cared for her gravely ill sister. It had felt like she’d been gone a lifetime, just as her stay in this place felt like forever.
His seven-year-old self wanted to rush to her and envelop her in a great big hug. He wanted her to run her hand over his hair as she spoke reassuring words. He wanted her to say that there had been some sort of grave error and that she didn’t have a gambling addiction—that she hadn’t sold off family heirlooms so she could get more money to gamble with. She’d even pawned her diamond engagement ring—the one she’d promised him when he got married. He told himself it was just a piece of jewelry—something that could be replaced. But the ring had been his grandmother’s before it was his mother’s. It was a keepsake he’d hoped to be able to pass on to his child. Now it was gone like so many other cherished mementoes.
A wave of conflicting emotions collided within him, leaving him nauseous. He swallowed hard. He told himself to let that stuff go and be present in this moment. His mother was ill, and she was getting help. It was all that mattered in this moment.
He studied her, noticing her hair was styled differently—in a straight, off-to-the-side kind of way instead of her usual curls. Her cheeks were hallowed, as though she’d lost weight. There were faint shadows under her eyes. Had she looked this way when he’d brought her there a couple of weeks ago? Had the shadows been hidden beneath her makeup, which she wasn’t wearing now?
He walked in her direction, but as their prior encounter flashed through his mind with its contentious undertones, he stopped short. “How are you doing?”
He didn’t know what sort of answer he expected. The breath hitched in his lungs as he stared at his mother, watching for any sign of a reaction.
“I’m doing better,” she said. “Thanks to you.”
The pent-up breath whooshed from his lungs. He wasn’t sure their relationship would ever be the same after this, but this was a good start. His eyes grew misty. He blinked repeatedly.
“Well, don’t just stand there.” His mother held her arms out to him. “Come give me a hug.”
That was all the invitation he needed. He approached his mother and wrapped his arms around her. He didn’t know how long they stood there in a comfortable silence as though reassuring each other that the love was still there.
When they sat down at a nearby table, he said, “I’m so sorry.”
Her gaze searched his. “What do you have to be sorry for?”
At last, he could say all of the things that had been building up within him. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I’m sorry I moved so far away. I’m sorry I didn’t know that you were depressed. I’m sorry—”
She held up a hand, silencing him. “You have nothing to be sorry about.”
“But if I had been here, this wouldn’t have happened.”
She shook her head. “I could have hidden it from you just like I hid it from my closest friends. I even hid the problem from myself by telling myself that I was only going to the casino one more time—just to win back my losses. I can’t even tell you how many times I told myself that lie.”
He was impressed that she was so much better than the last time he’d seen her. “Does this mean the treatment is working?”
His mother nodded. “Thank you for bringing me here. I know I didn’t make it easy for you.”
She most certainly hadn’t made it easy, but he chose to look on the positive side of things—she was getting the help she needed. She was slowly getting back to being the mother he used to know.
They continued talking a bit. She told him about some of her counseling sessions and the various tests they’d run on her as well as starting her on anti-depressants. He talked about his time in Bayberry. He told her he was keeping busy by fixing up the old family restaurant.
He knew his mother didn’t have much time before her next group session, and he didn’t want to interfere with her new routine, but there was something he wanted to get out there so she would know that when this was all over, he wasn’t going to abandon her. “Mom, I was thinking when you get out of here that you should come live with me in London.”
Her mouth gaped. “You want me to move all the way over there?” When he nodded, she said, “But I can’t. My friends are here. My home is in Bayberry.”
“But you could make new friends and a life in London.” He suspected that she’d initially be resistant to the idea. It was a big leap, but he’d be there for her every step of the way.
Her gaze searched his. “Why do you want me to do this?”
He shrugged. “Because I miss having my mom around.”
She arched a brow, the way she’d done when he was a kid and hadn’t told her the whole truth. “If this is out of guilt, you need to stop.”
Sure, he supposed that guilt played a part in his decision. But there were so many other reasons, including the fact that she was getting older, and he didn’t want to have regrets about not spending more time with her.
There was a knock on the door. A staff member stuck her head inside to remind his mother of her group session.
His mother turned to him. She leaned over and placed her hand on his arm and gave a squeeze. “Thank you for the offer, but I’m not leaving Bayberry. It’s my home. And stop blaming yourself for the mess I’ve made of my life. It had nothing to do with you. And now it’s up to me to fix it. You need to go back to London before you don’t have a job to go back to.”
“They’re fine without me.” He chose to ignore the memories of the countless phone calls he’d received since he’d been in Bayberry. “I’m needed here right now.”
His mother stood. She stepped over to him and leaned over to place a kiss on his cheek. “I definitely did something right when I had you. I love you.”
“I love you too, Mom. Please give moving to London some thought.”
She moved to the door that stood ajar. She paused and turned back to him. “I can’t move. I hope you’ll understand.”
There was a firmness to her voice. It was a tone he hadn’t heard in a long time. But on the occasions where he’d heard it in the past, it meant his mother had made up her mind, and nothing was going to change it. So, now what was he going to do?