Chapter 2
Ryan pulled into the driveway to see his mother’s car parked in front of the house.
“Ma?” he called out as soon as he shut off the engine. He ran up the front steps to the house and went inside to see his mother standing in the front hall. “Well, what do you think?”
“I think it’s too big for one person,” Cece said flatly. Her nose wrinkled like she smelled something rotten. “It’s pretentious.”
“It’s right on the beach!” He pointed to the wall of windows that looked out to the Atlantic Ocean. “You love the beach. All those summers we spent coming here?—”
“Cleaning.” She said it sharply, like a stop sign. “I came here to clean while you played on the beach.”
He exhaled and bit his tongue. Anything that came out of his mouth from this point on would be considered disrespectful. “Can I get your bags and take them to your room?”
She shook her head. “We don’t need this much space.” She stood, locked in place in the front hall. “This is too much.”
“Ma, it’s mine, if I want it,” he said. The realtor had set up a rent-to-buy situation. If he liked it, he could buy it; if not, he’d rent it for the rest of the summer at a very generous price.“What do you think? Live on an island?”
“Your uncle would be so proud of you,” she said, her voice cracking.
“Ma, don’t, stop,” he said, walking over to her. “This is supposed to be a dream come true, not a sad day.”
He had thought about this moment most of his career, where he would be able to give his mother a beach house. One she didn’t have to clean.
“This is for you.” He held out his hands and spun around in the space.
His mother dabbed her eyes with a tissue and looked around.
“For me?” She shook her head. “I don’t think any of this is for me.”
From down the hall, a noise startled him out of his happiness. Ainsley’s high heels clicked louder the closer she came to them. He had wanted to introduce his new girlfriend?—
“Oh, you arrived,” she said, full of pep and standing in a white bikini and a see-through coverup. She shook an empty glass bottle back and forth. “Babe, we’re out of vodka.”
His mother shot a glance at him before examining the former Miss Wisconsin holding up a bottle of Bloody Mary mix. Her head whipped back to him with her eyebrows perched high on her forehead. “Really?”
He closed his eyes. Then threw on the biggest smile possible. “Ma? Have you met Ainsley? Ainsley, this is my mother, Cecelia.”
Ainsley thrusted her free hand in his mother’s face. “I’m his girlfriend.”
His mother looked at him while shaking Ainsley’s hand.
He picked up her bags and carried them to the stairs. “We made a room just for you.”
“I picked everything out,” Ainsley said, bouncing on her toes. “I think you’ll love the blue room.”
“The blue room?” His mother’s eyebrows lifted even higher.
“Let me take your bags,” he said, waving his mother toward the staircase.
“How old is this one?” his mother whispered as she followed him up the stairs.
“Ma,” he warned, hoping Ainsley didn’t hear. “Stop.”
“What?” She shrugged as Ainsley skipped out of the front hall and back into the kitchen.
He almost said he loved her but stopped himself. If he said it, it would feel as though it was a lie. Did he really love Ainsley?
He loved her smile and her lips and those killer legs.
“Ryan!” his mother said, with her hands on her hips as she looked around the hallway. “Where’s the room?”
“Oh, sorry,” he said, shaking himself out of his thoughts. He opened the door to her room. “What do you think?”
She walked in and went straight to the balcony. The room had one of the best views in the house. She opened the balcony’s French doors, letting the air come in, and closed her eyes. He noticed a tear falling down her cheek.
“There’s a bathroom in there,” he said, pointing to the luxury bathroom. He put her luggage down beside the large walk-in closet. “It’s got a soaking tub.”
“What do I need to soak for?” she asked, but he knew she was playing with him. As a child, she’d always splurge on one thing. A home magazine, ripping out her favorite designs and putting them away in her “someday” box. Well, today was the someday.
“You deserve all the soaks,” he said, putting his arm around her shoulder. “You deserve all the things you ever wanted in a house.”
Ryan gently ushered her through the doorway to outside. The wind picked up, and she held her hair down with her hands. Her chest lifted up as she inhaled a deep breath, and she sunk her head into his chest.
“I gave you the best room in the house,” he said, hoping she was proud of him.
After years of taking care of him as a single mother, Ryan wanted to give her everything she’d ever dreamed of.
A house on the beach, after years of spending summers as a housekeeper for the island’s inn.
During the school year, she taught English.
But when his father had left them without a forwarding address, she had to make extra income.
She did whatever she could to give Ryan the best life.
And he wanted to pay her generosity back.
She looked up at him. Tears teetered on the edge of her eyelids. She forced a grin, but her chin wobbled with emotion. “You have always been a blessing in my life.”
“I know.” He squeezed her closer to him. Her petite frame seemed more frail than ever. “I want you to reconsider moving in here with me.”
“So White Bikini and I can become roommates.” She clicked her tongue. “I don’t think so.”
“Ma, she’s really nice,” he said.
“That’s what I’d tell parents when I couldn’t find anything better to say about their students.” She playfully pounded her fist into his belly. “When are you going to settle down and get serious? Or do you think this is going somewhere? Because it’s really not fair to her if you aren’t serious.”
He steered her shoulders to face out to the water. “Ma, look at this beautiful view!”
The door to the bedroom opened and hit the wall as Ainsley came into the bedroom. “Do you like the butterflies?”
Ainsley pointed to the bed that had been made by Ryan’s house cleaner.
His mother gave him the side-eye before answering. “Yes, dear, they’re nice.”
The dig went right over Ainsley’s head, who skipped out of the room. “I’m going to the store!”
“Should she be driving?”
“Um…” He wasn’t sure if she had finished off the vodka and needed more or if it was empty before she decided to make drinks.
“I’ll be right back,” he said to his mother. “Take your time unpacking. Feel free to rest. This is your room.” He pointed to the wet bar in the corner of the sitting area. “I even put in a coffee maker. Just like we used to have in our place during the summer.”
She smiled at her only son with so much love Ryan could feel it. “You thought we were rich because there was a fancy coffee maker in the hotel room.”
“We got to stay in that fancy hotel all summer.” He had thought it had been a dream come true, living on an island, swimming all day in a pool at a gorgeous hotel, eating food prepared by some of the finest chefs in the world, all the while having all the cable channels a young boy could dream about.
It had been better than any summer camp he could dream up.
He hadn’t cared that his mother had been the maid service.
He’d had no idea how bad things were for them, because his mother had never let on that they were barely getting by.
She’d never said “no” to him playing on travel teams, or on rec teams, or both of them at the same time.
She never complained about the price of gas driving to his games or the time it took away from her own life.
His mother did whatever it took to give him the best childhood possible.
She had been selfless and showed him a resilience he wished he possessed.
He couldn’t be more thankful for a mother like her.
That’s why he wanted to give her everything now.
“Unpack your stuff,” he said, tapping the top of her luggage he had bought her at Christmas. “Go lie by the pool or go for a walk at the beach.”
“By myself?” She sat on the bed. “I guess I’ll unpack.”
“When’s everybody getting here?” he asked.
From downstairs, he could hear the door open.
“Two.” His mother looked at her wrist. “It’s not even eleven and you’re worried she can’t drive?”
Cece’s eyebrows hit an all-time high on her forehead. He waited for more of her opinion of Ainsley. He already knew she didn’t like her.
But Cece said nothing to her son, her baby, her “reason for living.” She shook her head and stepped into the walk-in closet. “Why do you need all this space for your clothes?”
“I’ll just let you unpack then,” Ryan said, backing out of the room.
“Sounds good,” she said, staring at him as he snuck away. She mumbled something inaudible, but he’d heard the tone and knew not to ask what she’d said.
He pulled out his phone, when a Jeep with its top down pulled into the driveway.
He craned his neck to see three surfboard tails sticking out of the back end of the Jeep.
In the front, all he could see was a wild mess of dark brown curly hair tied together in a pink paisley scarf.
He stood in the middle of the stairwell landing, looking out the large picture window, watching the woman from the gift shop pulling out his new surfboards.
He didn’t expect her to deliver them that minute.
She easily lifted the first board out and walked it to the porch. By the time he reached the bottom of the stairs, she was lifting the second out of the back. He opened the front door as she set it next to the first one.
In the shop, he hadn’t noticed how intricate the designs on the back of the boards had been. He held out his hand to her. “They’re gorgeous.”
“Oh, hello, Mr. Mathers,” she said, wiping her hands on her shorts before shaking his hand. He couldn’t help but notice a tattoo on the inside of her left wrist. One thin line creating a silhouette of a woman’s face and then turning into the moon. “Thanks. I designed them myself.”