4. Mallory #2
Her sunglasses were perched on top of her head, pushing dark strands of hair back from her face. A too-bright smile curved her lips, and my stomach clenched with preemptive dread. She walked like she was floating an inch off the ground.
“Why do you look like that?” I asked, gazing sideways at her.
“Like what?” She popped the trunk with a cheerful little beep, reaching for the grocery bags.
I squinted at her. “Like you’re about to tell me something I’m not going to like.”
An airy, almost girlish laugh bubbled out of her as she balanced two brown bags in her hands. “Here.” She passed off the bags to me.
I took them automatically, but my attention wasn’t on groceries. It was on the way she was practically vibrating with excitement energy, sending warning bells off in my head. “You’re being weird,” I said, adjusting my grip on the bags. “Tell me what’s going on.”
She pulled out two more bags, securing them in her hold before shutting the trunk. “I met someone.”
I froze halfway up the porch steps. “What do you mean you met someone? Like a neighbor? A friend? Someone at the farmer’s market who gave you a recipe for zucchini bread?”
She snorted. “You know I don’t bake.” She gave a half shrug as she moved to the front door. “I met a guy.” For anyone other than my mom, it might not have been a big deal, but my mom…she didn’t date. Not unless the guy was a target and she planned to slice his throat.
My groan ripped straight out of my chest. “Mom. No. You promised.”
She wrinkled her nose, wiggling the key into the door. “This is different. He’s not on my list.”
“Okay,” I drew out, unconvinced. “Since when do you date?”
“I told you I was serious about starting over.” She bumped the door open with her hip, stepping into the cottage. “It’s about time for me to start living my life again. Besides, this is just a test run, feeling out the waters. No need to freak out just yet.”
I followed her inside, kicking the door shut behind me. “You want to date? Like, for real?”
“That’s what I said,” she retorted, setting her bags on the kitchen counter. “When he asked me to dinner, I thought, why the hell not, and before I overthought it, I said yes.”
“When?” I asked, dropping my grocery bags onto the counter.
“Tomorrow. It’s one date, Malibu. It’s not the end of the world.”
I wanted my mom to be happy, especially now that she didn’t have a list of names to cross off, but the idea of her with a guy after what she’d been through…
it scared me on so many levels. I wondered if she was just as scared.
“Why do I have a bad feeling about this?” I muttered, staring at the bags like they might contain answers instead of produce and carbs.
“Do you want to come with me?” She started unpacking, pulling out vegetables and setting them in the ceramic bowl we’d bought at an estate sale last week.
I gave her a drool look. “Not funny. And gross. The last thing I want to do is chaperone your date. Shouldn’t you be the one chaperoning my dates? Not that I would let you.”
A twinkle of wickedness gleamed in her eyes. “You have a date?”
“What? No.”
“But you do want to date. Have you met someone?”
I didn’t like the glint in her eyes. She saw too much, especially when it came to me. “Where and how would I meet someone?” I grumbled.
Grinning, she took her sunglasses off her head. “Try the farmer’s market.”
“Mom,” I groaned.
Her eyes were bright, earnest. “He’s the first guy I don’t actually want to kill.”
“Yet,” I added.
“Yet,” she agreed without missing a beat, pulling out a carton of eggs and checking each one for cracks.
“But even if I do end up wanting to kill him, which I won’t, I won’t actually do it.
I made you a promise.” She looked up at me, and her expression shifted into seriousness.
“I’ll never break a promise to you, Malibu. Never.”
The sincerity in her voice hit hard, and I sighed.
I wanted more than anything for my mom to be happy, truly happy.
No one deserved it more, but I’d often wondered if her past would always haunt her and get in the way of her being able to find true love or peace.
More importantly, how the hell had my mom gotten a date before I did? The woman hated the opposite sex.
Or she had. He must have made quite the impression.
“Is he taking you somewhere nice?” I asked, plucking an apple from the fruit basket.
She stopped unpacking and leaned against the counter, crossing her arms over her chest. The afternoon light came through the kitchen window behind her, making her dark hair shine and painting her profile in gold.
For just a second, she looked so young. “A place downtown. He mentioned a restaurant with a patio. Said the sunset view was worth the overpriced wine. I’m meeting him there. ”
I bit into the apple, my mind already jumping ahead, worrying about what might happen, but I could see she wanted this.
She was only ever this excited about finding her next victim.
I just wanted her to be doing this for the right reasons, not because she thought it was what I wanted.
She knew how much I desired a normal life, and it would be just like my mom to date if she thought it would make me happy.
I wanted this for her. Not for me. “You know I love you. I don’t need a daddy figure. You’re all I need.”
She came around the counter and pulled me in for a long hug. “Thanks. I needed that.” She pulled back, looking into my face. Her fingers tucked a curl stray behind my ear. “But to absolve you of the guilt I know you’d carry, I’m doing this for me. It’s time I start healing. It’s time we both did.”
I nodded. “Okay, but if he tries anything…”
“I know how to handle myself, but…I’ll make sure he’s still breathing when I drop him to the ground.”
My lips twitched, and Mom went back to unpacking groceries.
I grabbed my tote bag from where I’d abandoned it and headed for the stairs.
I should be happy for her. I wanted to be, but it felt like too many changes were happening at once.
I was sure tons of kids had to deal with their single parents dating, but did any of them have to worry that their mother would kill them?
I wasn’t ready to abandon Elmwood. Not yet.